Page 63 of Malicious Claim (Dark Inheritance #1)

Aesthetique Solestrides.

The following morning, Leila got into the back of Makros' limo, going with him to his shoe company. She rested her head on the window, her eyes puffy from lack of sleep.

Makros looked at her, seeing how subdued she was.

"Something wrong?" he asked, his tone soft but laced with interest.

Leila sighed before answering, her voice almost a whisper. "I couldn't sleep. Not after seeing your late wife's room."

Makros kept his gaze on her, surprised at her reaction. "I did not think that it would move you so deeply," he breathed. "Don't worry, the room will be cleared upon our return."

Leila did not turn her gaze away from the window. "It is not important whether or not the room is cleared," she breathed. "But I do feel for you. what my family has done to you."

Makros' expression softened to a look of shock. "Yeah, me too," he replied bluntly.

The remainder of the ride was quiet. Leila dozed in and out of wakefulness, her body fighting against exhaustion, until she eventually succumbed to the fatigue and slept soundly.

Makros watched her face while she slept, noticing the serenity, near-angelic expression she bore. But underneath all that beauty, he knew there was a tempest wrapped in flames awaiting to break through.

The car stopped, and Leila opened her eyes. She blinked for a moment in confusion, and then quickly reviewed her location. They were there.

Before them stood a massive building, sleek and modern, climbing up against the Athenian skyline. There were laborers atop it, some repairing it, others painting it with white paint. The company was still recovering from the fire.

They exited the car and Leila gazed up at the giant letters plastered on the face of the building.

She tried to read it again, narrowing her eyes, willing herself to focus. But the letters blurred and shifted. She tried to pronounce it aloud, but only a stutter came out.

Makros was watching her closely. "Aesthetique Solestrides," he said, his voice steady. "You're struggling to read it?"

Leila paused, her throat tightening. "I have. dyslexia," she muttered.

His gaze didn't waver. A slow realization crossed his face, though he said nothing right away. Instead, he looked up at the sign himself, then exhaled through his nose. "We'll change it."

Leila blinked. "What?"

He turned to his secretary, who had been waiting by the entrance. "I want a new design. Something simple." Then, with a smirk, "Put a shoe logo. And rename it to something she'll recognize immediately."

Leila's heart beat faster. Had he gone and renamed his company and changed the logo for her sake? She didn't know if she liked that.

Inside, the conference room was filled with waiting staff. They had gathered, waiting for Makros' verdict, waiting for his expertise. They rose as soon as he and Leila appeared.

Makros took the head of the table and waved for them to sit down. Leila and his secretary, Kim, sat closest to him.

Kim nudged a stack of papers towards him, some designs by the company's top designers. There was one shoe design per page, all lean and stylish, crafted with attention to detail.

Leila watched as Makros flipped through them, his expression unreadable. He dismissed some of the sketches at once, barely taking a moment's glance at them. He stopped on others, tracing his finger along the paper before setting them aside. Once he was done, he had picked only three from the rest.

He passed them to Leila silently.

She hesitated, gazing at him, but he only raised an eyebrow as if to say, Well what do you think?

She took the papers and looked over the designs. They were good—great, actually but as her eyes swept through the rejected ones, one drawing caught her attention.

She grabbed it before she could think better of it. "This one."

Makros stiffened. "That wasn't in my choice."

Leila averted his gaze, her heart pounding faster. She hadn't meant to discredit him whatsoever. She simply felt this one was the better choice. "I know. But it should be," she said earnestly.

Silence hung between them. And then, to her surprise, Kim nodded. "She has great taste. This design is very unique. It blends classic with modern and it's something we haven't tried in this collection."

Leila held up the paper more confidently and focused Makros' attention on certain aspects.

"Look at this heel. It's smooth and beautiful, but the balance is off.

If we just make it slightly thicker at the bottom, it will be steadier without losing its beauty.

And this strap...it's a little awry. If we adjust its angle so it will wrap around the ankle instead of cutting across the top of the foot, it will stretch the leg out. It'll be more flattering, more secure."

The staff watched her in surprise.

Then, one of the designers leaned in, adjusting his glasses. "She's right," he said, nodding toward the sketch. "A thicker base would improve weight distribution. We've had issues with similar designs where the heel was too slim."

Another designer, a woman with short, jet-black hair, added, "And the strap adjustment, it's a small change, but it shifts the entire look. It'll make the shoe feel more sophisticated. Plus, it adds support."

There was a murmur of agreement in the room. Some of the employees glanced at one another in surprise they hadn't considered it.

Kim tapped her pen on the table, glancing at Makros. "The adjustments are minor but effective. It wouldn't be holding up production."

Makros leaned back in his chair, hands folded together as he scanned the design. His expression was neutral, but his eyes flashed in Leila's direction, assessing her.

Then, with a slight nod of his head, he replied. "Make the changes."

Leila laid down the paper, still having her heart racing too fast. She wasn't certain if she had just overstepped or impressed him.

Makros didn't say a word to her, but during the remainder of the meeting, she caught him looking at her.