Page 40 of His Son's Ex

I step inside, the large windows offering an impressive view of New York’s skyline. A spacious desk faces the window while empty bookshelves line the walls, waiting for me to fill them with reference books and manuals. A state-of-the-art workstation hums quietly off one end of the desk, monitors arranged in a multi-display setup that practically calls to me.

This is it.

A swirl of excitement shoots through my veins. This is the position I’ve always dreamed about—head of cybersecurity at a top-tier company. The challenges will be immense. Thecompensation mind-blowing. The environment? Potentially lethal if I slip up, given who truly runs this show.

But I’m up to the task and I can’t wait to get started.

Dropping my portfolio on the desk, I spend the morning settling in by running initial diagnostics on the system, customizing my workstation, and reviewing the company’s current cybersecurity framework. My mind is alive with possibilities, but a low-level tension settles beneath the surface, a constant awareness that this organization is more than it seems and Dante is more than just my boss.

Twice, I see him striding through the hall with subordinates trailing behind like eager disciples. He doesn’t glance my way, but I feel his presence, a gravitational pull that sets my nerves on edge.

My belly jumps every time I recall the night we spent together. Memories flash of the heat of his body, the low rumble of his voice, the sheer force of his desire.

I can’t let that distract me, but how am I supposed to ignore it?

The hours blur by as I go through orientation. A rush of IT policies, cryptographic standards, and corporate documentation being thrown at me. I meet my new team—a handful of cybersecurity analysts—all talented, all politely curious about me.

More than a few of them are at least twice my age, no doubt wondering why their new boss looks young enough to be theirdaughter. But if they have misgivings, they wisely keep them to themselves.

By late afternoon, I’ve compiled a rough outline of my recommendations—all advanced points such as intrusion detection systems, anomaly-based threat modeling, and implementing honeypot servers. My head buzzes with ideas, eager to push the envelope.

Around six, Janine appears at my door. “Ms. Smith, Mr. Bellacino would like to see you. He mentioned it’s your final meeting of the day.”

My heart kicks up a notch. “All right. Did he say what it’s regarding?”

She shakes her head. “Only that he wants an update on your initial assessment.”

So much for a gentle ramp-up.

Nodding, I gather my notes, double-check my suit jacket, and head to the top executive suite, which happens to be the only office without glass walls. Dante obviously values his privacy.

When I reach his door, I pause to compose myself and take a deep breath. I knock.

“Enter.”

Heat skitters across my skin as I open the door.

Dante stands at his desk, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled mid-forearm. The orange glow of the setting sun spills through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, painting the office in a wash of warm, copper light. The view alone is breathtaking, andthe sight of him steals my focus—broad shoulders, strong arms, the top button of his shirt undone revealing his sexy collarbone.

His eyes gleam as they lock onto me. “Eva.”

I force a polite smile. “Sir.”

He smirks.

Damn it.

Clearing my throat, I step forward, holding out my notes. “You wanted an update on my findings?”

He motions me closer. “Have a seat. We have a lot to discuss.”

I settle into the chair across from him, ignoring the flicker of memory that surfaces of our night together.

Dante leans against the desk, arms folded. “Tell me what you’ve got.”

I inhale, flipping open my folder. “Your existing system is robust, but it’s geared toward standard threats such as ransomware and basic phishing attempts. That won’t cut it if you face a persistent or top-tier threat. We need something more—“I twirl my hand, looking for the right word.

He cocks an eyebrow. “Aggressive?”