LEVI'S POV
After arriving in Zurich, Switzerland, Kevin's injury turned out to be less severe than initially feared. The medical team provided a thorough report, reassuring me that he would likely make a full recovery with a month of rest. Still, the relief didn't fully dispel the tension that had settled over our group, but it was a good development
Mark, Isabella, and I arrived at the hotel early in the morning after visiting Kevin. The weariness etched on their faces and the heavy bags beneath their eyes spoke volumes. Despite their exhaustion, duty called, and I wasted no time in setting tasks for the team.
As Isabella was closing her door, I stopped her, holding it open with a gentle yet firm grip. "Complete the new public relations report tonight," I instructed, my tone conveying the importance of the task.
"Yes, boss," she replied, her voice tinged with a mixture of exhaustion and determination.
"Good night, then," I said, offering a brief nod of acknowledgment.
"Good night, sir," she responded before closing the door with a soft click.
Though I wanted to speak with her further, to offer words of encouragement or perhaps delve into the details of the report, I sensed her nervousness, a tempting aura that seemed to emanate from her every pore.
But I've been too selfish with her so I let her be, though I wanted more.
Respecting her need for space, I refrained from pressing further, instead opting to stand outside her door for a moment longer, my thoughts swirling with a mixture of concern and anticipation.
After she shut the door, I leaned in ever so slightly, straining to catch any sound from within. The silence was broken only by the faint hum of the hotel's ventilation system and the distant murmur of voices from the hallway. Then, like a whisper carried on the wind, I heard it—the soft click-clack of Isabella's fingers dancing across the keys of her laptop.
Isabella deserved a promotion, of that there was no doubt. Her dedication, her unwavering commitment to excellence—these were qualities that set her apart, that marked her as a rising star within our organization. And yet, as much as I longed to reward her for her efforts, I knew that now was not the time. To do so would risk inviting resentment, jealousy, perhaps even sabotage from those less deserving of her talents.
No, the time would come, of that I was certain. But for now, I would bide my time, watching and waiting, nurturing the seed of potential that lay within her until the moment was right to let it bloom. And she will blossom under my care, I will
make sure of it.
~~~~
I woke to the morning light filtering through the curtains, thoughts of Isabella already filling my mind. There was an urgency to have her by my side, not just for the work that awaited us but for her presence, which seemed to bring clarity to even the most chaotic of situations. After my morning routine, I reached for my phone and dialed her number, eager to set our plans in motion for the day and to be close to her.
"Good morning, sir," her voice, still tinged with sleep, greeted me.
"It's 8 in the morning. Are you still asleep?" I inquired, noting the hint of amusement in my tone.
"Sorry, sir, just waking up," she admitted.
I couldn't help but smile at her honesty. It was a trait I valued in her, one that spoke to her integrity and reliability. Although, when I'm Mr L she lies to me, but I'm willing to let that pass.
"Meet me at the lounge in one hour," I instructed before ending the call, already making my way to the private lounge I had meticulously crafted within the confines of the hotel.
As I settled into the plush surroundings of the lounge, my MacBook open before me, I couldn't help but appreciate the quiet sophistication of the space. Every detail had been tailored to my tastes, from the luxurious furnishings to the state-of-the-art soundproofing that ensured our conversations remained private. It's one of my very worthy investments.
Exactly one hour later, Isabella entered the room, her presence commanding attention despite the weariness that lingered in the lines of her face. Dressed in a simple yet elegant grey gown that accentuated her curves, she exuded a quiet confidence that I found irresistible. Her hair cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, a subtle reminder of the woman beneath the professional facade. A beautiful, sensual woman who I need to fuck so bad till she loses consciousness.
I cleared my throat as she took her seat across from me, my gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than strictly necessary. "Is the report ready?" I asked, my tone businesslike yet tinged with a hint of warmth. The more time I spend with her, the more difficult it gets to pretend to be uncaring of her.
"Yes, sir," she replied, her eyes focused on the screen of her laptop. It was a familiar sight, her unwavering dedication to her work never failing to impress me. Though part of me longed for her undivided attention, I knew better than to disrupt her concentration.
She was growing to be a force to be reckoned with, and I had no doubt that she would deliver nothing short of excellence.
"Send it," I instructed, allowing her to immerse herself in the task at hand. There would be time later for more personal matters. For now, our focus remained on the work that lay before us.
As Isabella hit the send button, I couldn't help but marvel at the progress she had made. "This is better than before," I remarked, my gaze finally lifting from the screen to meet hers. Despite her habitual nervousness, a bright smile graced her lips, illuminating her face with a newfound pride.
Indeed, I was proud of her.
"There's still room for improvement though," I added, not wanting her to become complacent in her efforts. It was a delicate balance, pushing her to strive for excellence while also ensuring she felt valued and appreciated.
"Okay, sir. I'll keep working hard," she replied, her determination evident in the steely resolve of her voice.
"Good. I'll make some corrections and send them to you," I assured her, already mentally mapping out the changes that would elevate the report to new heights.
With a few deft keystrokes, I made the necessary modifications before forwarding the document back to Isabella for her review.
"Publish it," I instructed, eager to see the culmination of our efforts come to fruition. There was a sense of satisfaction in knowing that our hard work was finally paying off, yet a part of me longed for the day when the demands of business would fade into the background, leaving behind only the quiet moments shared between us.
As my phone began to ring, I glanced at the caller ID to see Mark's name flashing on the screen. With a resigned sigh, I rose from my seat, knowing that duty called once more.
"Be fast," I said to Isabella, a pang of regret tugging at my heart as I tore myself away from her side. Though I cherished every moment spent in her company, there were responsibilities that could not be ignored, no matter how much I wished otherwise.
~~~
After Isabella's swift action in publishing the news, the crisis that had loomed over us dissipated like morning mist beneath the sun. With the announcement released, the whispers of the team's demise for the season proved to be nothing more than self-defeating rumors. Though Kelvin's absence left a void in our operations, investors found solace in the reassurance that he would soon return, overseeing the work of his subordinates while he recuperated. It was a temporary setback, nothing more, and one that we were more than capable of weathering together.
I was more than grateful that nothing too serious happened to Kelvin because he's like family too, it's not just about the business,
Yet, as the dust settled and the storm clouds of uncertainty dispersed, a new threat emerged. Rumors began to circulate that my overnight visit to check on Kevin's injury was a calculated move to pressure Kelvin into returning to our Swiss operations prematurely, before he had fully recovered. It was a malicious insinuation, one that threatened to undermine the trust and confidence we had worked so hard to cultivate among our investors and partners.
"Do we need to respond to these rumors?" Mark inquired, his brow furrowed with concern as we sat in the lounge watching the newscaster cast aspersions on me, our company's future hanging in the balance.
"No, it's not important. They'll die down once Kelvin is well enough to set the record straight," I replied, though my mind churned with thoughts of the rivals who sought to sabotage our success. "The rivals have their claws in the media, but I'll silence them," I declared, a steely determination lacing my words.
"You need to, sir," Mark agreed, his voice filled with conviction as he voiced the urgency of the situation.
The following day, as we returned to Italy after completing our assignment, I found myself restless, unable to shake the weight of responsibility that hung heavy on my shoulders. With no time to spare, I boarded a plane bound for Japan, my thoughts consumed by the task ahead—negotiating modifications to the engine for the upcoming season with our supplier.
As the miles stretched out beneath the wings of the aircraft, an ocean of emotions raged within me. Memories of my past threatened to resurface, clawing at the edges of my consciousness, but I pushed them aside with practiced ease. There was no room for sentimentality, not when the stakes were so high.
Yet, amidst the chaos of my thoughts, one name persisted, refusing to be ignored. Isabella. With a resigned sigh, I reached for my phone, fingers hesitating over the keys as I composed a message.
Me: I miss you.
I quickly sent the message on WhatsApp before I changed my mind.
Now I wait for her reply.