"Hello, lovely," he greeted her, reaching out to hold her hand. However, instead of shaking hands, Hazel bowed her head and offered a polite smile. Andrew, surprised by her response, grinned.
"It's nice to meet you as well," he said, seemingly amused by Hazel's formality.
The tone of the conversation took an uncomfortable turn when Andrew remarked, "It seems Emily's leaving is now cut off from him. Are you his new one?"
Hazel, taken aback by the directness of Andrew's question, widened her eyes in discomfort. The inquiry about her relationship with her boss, posing so casually in front of her boss, caught her off guard. She pondered how to respond, aware of the need to navigate the situation diplomatically.
Hazel stammered in response. She shifted her attention from Andrew to Francisco, seeking guidance on this unexpected exchange.
Francisco, maintaining his stoic demeanor, observed the exchange between Andrew and Hazel.
"No, I am not his girlfriend. I work as his private assistant," she clarified, trying to convey professionalism.
Andrew, seemingly undeterred, responded with a cheeky smile, "Oh, I see. Then what should I call you, pretty?"
"I am..."
Before Hazel could answer, Francisco interjected, "Mr. Andrew, we need to discuss business, not about my PA."
Andrew, acknowledging Francisco's statement, continued to tease, "Oh yes, Mr. Francisco. But I find it difficult to take my eyes off your PA as well."
A mischievous grin appeared on Andrew's face as he observed Hazel.
"I must say, you always choose the best woman to go with you."
Hazel, feeling uncomfortable under Andrew's scrutiny, lowered her gaze.
Hazel, having heard the rumors about Francisco's relationships, was well aware of his reputation. The stories suggested that he treated romantic partners casually, akin to using tissue paper. However, she maintained a professional stance, knowing that she was his PA and not a romantic interest.
When Andrew, with his cheeky remarks, hinted at Francisco's possessiveness, Hazel felt an uncomfortable tension in the air. Francisco's response, simple and direct, showed his reluctance to engage further in the conversation.
"I don't like it when people look at my belongings, Mr. Andrew."
Francisco's response was visceral. His gaze turned lethal, veins pulsating in his clenched hand, and a firm jawline revealing his displeasure.
"Don't take it seriously," Andrew attempted to downplay the situation with a nonchalant statement. He continued to probe, "It seems you are so possessive of your PA."
"We ought to leave for work," Francisco declared, cutting off any further discussion. His words were straightforward, indicating his unwillingness to dwell on the matter.
Andrew gave Hazel a disdainful look before casually strolling away. As he disappeared into the crowd, Francisco turned his attention back to Hazel. Despite the recent tension, his voice softened as he addressed her.
"Hazel."
The mellifluous sound of his voice caught Hazel's attention. She shifted her gaze towards Francisco, finding a surprising shift in his demeanor. The anger that had flared up moments ago seemed to have evaporated, replaced by a more amiable tone.
"Come with me."
Without waiting for Hazel's response, Francisco gently took her hand, leading her towards a nearby room. Hazel rolled her eyes playfully as they entered.
"I need to attend an important meeting," Francisco explained, taking a seat on the sofa. Hazel settled into a chair opposite him, her inquisitive eyes fixed on her boss.
"Give me instructions, sir," she offered, ready to assist him in any way necessary.
"You are not required to attend the meeting at all, simply take as much time as needed to relax here," Francisco stated in a calm tone, his words hanging in the air like a soothing melody.
Hazel, still processing the unexpected turn of events, uttered in confusion, "I... I didn't get it."
"Because I am going there alone. Don't be bored. I will get to you quickly and it won't take too long."
As he gracefully rose from his seat and approached Hazel, a subtle tension settled in the air. Hazel's heart began to race with an inexplicable anticipation.
She looked away from him, attempting to conceal the unexpected fluttering in her chest, and asserted, "If you are considering what happened just a moment ago, sir, I am saying I can handle it."
Francisco, his signature chuckle resonating, seemed to find amusement in her attempt to assert her independence. To her surprise, he suddenly touched her chin, gently urging her to look at him. Hazel's eyes, hesitant yet curious, met the intense gaze of Francisco Hilton.
Though she felt a surge of awareness, she refrained from pulling away. Francisco's alluring voice filled the space between them, revealing a layer of protectiveness that caught her off guard.
"I know you can handle it, but I don't want anyone to look at you. And there will be a lot of unwanted guests at today's meeting," Francisco explained, his words carrying a subtle intensity.
"So stay here."
Hazel, momentarily taken aback by his unexpected concern, gradually lowered her gaze. Yet, Francisco's focus remained unwavering on her.
His thumb continued to caress her delicate chin, tracing the contours of her face with a gentleness that belied the powerful aura he exuded.
As Hazel's eyes met Francisco's intense gaze, the unspoken tension between them escalated. The air crackled with a magnetic energy, and time seemed to suspend in the intimate space they shared. It was a moment of uncharted connection, where words became superfluous, and the language of glances and touches spoke volumes.
Breaking the palpable tension, Hazel spoke, her voice cutting through the quietude.
"Sir!"
Francisco released an audible sigh, and a subtle smile played on his lips.
"Yes, you should stay here. I will be back shortly."
Hazel's eyes trailed Francisco's departure from the room, and a noticeable sigh escaped her lips, laden with a mix of emotions.
The VIP Room, a clandestine space reserved for the dealings of the underworld, became the stage for a gathering of shadowy figures. Andrew, flanked by his bodyguards, oversaw the proceedings, his attention focused on the small packets laid out on the table — packets containing the illicit substance that fueled the clandestine world of crime.