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Chapter Seven

SHAYLA

THE KONTIDES & PARTNERSboardroom is silent except for the hum of the air conditioning and the soft tap of my fingers on the keyboard. Floor-to-ceiling windows reflect our images against the night skyline—me at one end of the glass table, Adriano at the other.

It's also nearly midnight, and even though I still have so many cases to review, I'm still dangerously distracted by the sharp line of my boss's jaw as he reads his half of the workload.

Pathetic, right?

For almost nine years, I've prided myself for being immune to the great Adriano Kontides. I'm the only girl who's known him this long andstillhaven't fallen for him. But ever since he found that my marriage—and subsequent divorce—was fake?

Everything's changed.

For thebetterworse.

I catch him looking at me all the time now, and he doesn't even have the decency to pretend that he wasn't. Or act uncomfortable at being caught. He only stares back at me with thosebeautiful brilliantblasted silver eyes of his, just staring at me like I'm suddenly something he's found worth devouring—

I'm always the one who's forced to look away like a coward in the end, and it just makes me grit my teeth every time I remember this.

Like, seriously.

What is wrong with him?

And me?

For, like, thinking and speaking, like, I've been given a role in, like, a remake ofClueless?

This has to be Adriano's fault, darn it.

And Hope's, too.

For making me actually pray when I've never ever prayed—

And talking to God when I don't even know if I want Him to be real—

And worst of all, for making me actually try to imagine who God's choice is for my bridegroom.

Ugh, just ugh.

Just rememberingwhoI saw in my mind makes me feel like slamming my head against the desk over and over.

I just have a hard time believing that my visions of my future husband—

"The notes you scribbled here," my boss suddenly says irritably. "They're completely wrong. Use a damn pencil next time so we don't need to cross anything out. It just complicates things unnecessarily."

—looked awfully like the billionaire ogre I'm stuck working overtime for at present.

"Understood, sir."

Silver eyes immediately narrow at my direction. "Don't take that tone with me."