Carlos's POV
I froze in the doorway when I spotted Amara lounging in Grace's chair behind Grace's desk. She acted like she owned the damn place while the actual owner sat across from her like some visitor, wearing the same shocked expression that must have been plastered across my face.
Amara sprang from the seat and strutted toward me with false confidence. Her sheer blouse left nothing to the imagination—I could see her pink bra underneath—and her tight skirt barely covered anything worth covering.
She planted herself directly in front of me while I stood there, still trying to wrap my head around this bizarre situation.
Relief washed over me knowing Grace wasn't entertaining another man, but confusion quickly followed. What the hell was this bitch doing in our office?
Amara stared up at me, practically salivating over what she clearly thought was God's gift to womankind.
