The devil. That's who he is in my mind-the man I ran away from six years ago, the one who shattered me. Zach Moretti ruined the last years of my university life, forcing me to flee without even finishing my degree. I never knew he was part of the mafia until his family showed up with guns, leaving a dead body of one of my friends on my front porch at the house I was renting in Italy. They threatened me, telling me to disappear from his life, insisting that a man like him could never love a woman like me, that he could never be satisfied with someone like me. And though it broke me, I listened. I ran. So what was he doing back in my life?
Chapter 1 Jessica
"Good morning!" I say to everyone in the office as soon as I walk in, plastering on a bright smile.
"Oh? You came early." My best friend and partner-in-crime, Shelly, raises an eyebrow, smirking as she sips her coffee.
I wink at her. "Yeah, new boss means being early for the first three days of the week."
She lets out a hearty laugh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. And I don't mind her teasing; Shelly knows me well. I'm always late-not just five minutes late, but thirty, forty minutes late. Honestly, I'd probably have been fired by now if it weren't for the fact that I always deliver. And no, I'm not being a boastful bitch when I say this-I'm genuinely good at what I do.
I'm Jessica, 27 years old, currently a specialist sales consultant in one of the biggest companies in Hatfield, South Africa. For the past six years, I've been living here with Shelly as my roommate in an apartment right here in Hatfield.
You're probably wondering why I'm always late when I live in the same suburb as my company. Simple: like anyone else in this world, I hate getting up early. If it were up to me, I'd sit at home binge-watching kdramas all day. But a girl's got to meet ends meet and pay the bills, right? So here I am.
I walk to my desk and place my water bottle, lunch bag, and laptop bag neatly on its surface. I settle into my chair, already mentally sorting through the pile of deadlines I need to tackle this week. Just as I'm pulling out my laptop, I catch Shelly lingering near my desk, her hands clasped behind her as she leans casually against the desk divider. Her eyes are glinting with a familiar look, and I know she's about to dish out some juicy office gossip.
"Did you hear? The new CEO is hot as hell," she says, her voice a hushed whisper, as if she's letting me in on the office's best-kept secret.
I raise an eyebrow, glancing up from my screen. "Nope. I didn't hear anything like that. But what about him?"
"Oh, Jess, he's such eye candy! And get this-the best part is that he's offering free massages exclusively for the ladies in the sales department." She wiggles her eyebrows, leaning closer with a conspiratorial grin. "Apparently, he thinks we worked the hardest and made the biggest difference for the company's success last quarter."
My brow furrows as I look back at her. "Oh? Is he sponsoring us to go to Forever Beauty for massages? That's sweet of him." I smile slightly, impressed. For a new CEO to acknowledge the team's hard work and even reward them is rare. Our last boss didn't even give us an extra lunch break. It's a good start.
Shelly lets out an amused snort, crossing her arms as she watches me with that glint of mischief still in her eyes. "What? No, he's not sending us to Forever Beauty for anything."
I pause, turning to face her more fully, a bit confused. "But you just said-"
"Yes, I said he offered free massages." She nods slowly, savoring my reaction.
"But I never said he's sending us to Forever Beauty."
"Okay..." I tilt my head, brows knitting together in confusion. "Then where else are we getting massages? Ella Beauty? HZ Spa?" I throw out names of the top spas in our area, places that charge for every luxurious second. If our CEO wants to spoil us, why not the best, right?
Shelly shakes her head, her grin widening. "Nope, nope, and nope. He offered something even more exotic than an experience at those fancy spa booths." She lets out a soft cooing noise, clearly enjoying the suspense.
I stop typing, leaning back in my chair. "Really?" Now she's got my attention. As a spa enthusiast, I'd go just about anywhere for a good massage.
"Yep. He offered... himself," she says, biting her lip in amusement, watching my reaction like she's waiting for me to explode.
I blink, my enthusiasm instantly deflating. "What?"
She squeals and bounces a little, clearly delighted. "I'm serious! At first, everyone thought he was joking. But no, turns out a few ladies took him up on the offer, and they came back raving about his 'killer' massages."