𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒. 𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈. 𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓈.
Isabella Leighton, a 23-year-old aspiring lawyer, unexpectedly lands a job working for the most prominent CEO in New York. While she doesn't align with his lifestyle, the generous sa...
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ASHER
The biting wind had started to intensify, making my cheeks and hands go completely stiff. Despite agreeing to let me take her home, Isabella remained rooted to her spot on the sidewalk.
I shifted to the opposite side of the car, carefully opening the door for her. I moved aside, granting her access to step inside. "Thank you," she said with one of her swift smiles.
As I settled into the seat, the car was already warming up, and before I could even consider fastening my seatbelt, my phone started to ring.
"Petrov," I calmly answered, making adjustments to the air conditioning settings. I noticed Isabella had her gaze fixed out the window, attentively observing the passing strangers.
My wife's words deepened the headache I already had. "You've got one month, Asher," she declared, her voice unwavering. "One month to secure legal representation, or I'll win the case without a trial."
"Understood," I replied, avoiding the futile argument I knew would follow. I couldn't be bothered to deal with her at that moment.
Without a moment's delay, I ended the call and placed my cellphone back into my suit jacket pocket, silencing it.
My gaze stayed locked on the road ahead as I reached over and fastened my seatbelt.
"Everything alright?" Isabella's question diverted my attention from the road. I nodded, opting not to delve into the details of the entire situation.
It wasn't her concern, or anyone else's, for that matter, and I preferred to keep it to myself. I was grateful that Kady wanted a divorce, but the legal process was complicated.
"Here," I retrieved my phone from my pocket once again, launching the navigation app. "Enter your address." After a brief moment, she handed my phone back, and the GPS indicated a twenty-minute drive.
I noticed her seatbelt was undone as I glanced over at her, prompting me to remind her. "Seatbelt," I said, and our eyes met, leading to a brief moment of locked gazes.
"What?"
Realizing she hadn't heard me, I extended across the center console and pulled her seatbelt across her chest, securely fastening it for her.
"Oh," she whispered softly. "Thank you." My hand remained for a moment on the buckle, close to her hip, as she averted her gaze, returning her attention to the passersby.
Throughout the entire drive, my attention remained fixed on the road ahead, never wavering. My hand maintained a firm grip on the steering wheel, while the other rested on my thigh.
