Dangerous Poison

I shouldn’t be here.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, revealing the top floor of Castelli Enterprises. The walls, lined with black marble, gleamed under the soft light—elegant and cold, just like the man waiting for me inside. I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder, feeling my hands tremble slightly. My heart pounded as if trying to warn me to turn back. But it was too late for that.

Dante Castelli. The name alone was enough to make my stomach churn. He wasn’t just the billionaire gracing the covers of business magazines; he was the man who had destroyed everything I loved most. Two years ago, when he ruined my family’s legacy, I swore I’d never be in the same room as him again. And now, here I was, about to work for him.

“Miss Mendes,” a receptionist called, pulling me from my thoughts. Her smile was flawless, as was her uniform and perfectly arranged hair. “Mr. Castelli is expecting you.”

I nodded, trying to maintain my composure. “Thank you.”

I walked toward the glass doors leading to his office. Each step echoed in the silent corridor, a reminder of how much I didn’t belong in this world. When I pushed open the doors, there he was, standing with his back to me, staring out at the city through windows that seemed to touch the sky.

He hadn’t changed at all. The confident posture, the impeccable suit that fit him like a second skin, the air of absolute control. Even without seeing his face, I could feel the intensity of his presence.

“Olivia Mendes,” he said without turning around. His voice was deep and calm, carrying the same authority I hated and, somehow, still feared.

“Mr. Castelli,” I replied, trying to sound professional even though my throat was dry.

He turned slowly, and my heart skipped a beat. Dante Castelli was even more devastatingly handsome than I remembered. His gray eyes were sharp, as if they could see every thought I was trying to hide. His dark hair was slicked back, and his face carried that unshakable expression, like nothing in the world could faze him.

“You’re late,” he said bluntly.

I glanced at the clock. I wasn’t late, but arguing with him would be pointless. “Traffic,” I replied simply.

A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t a welcoming one. It was a smile that said he had already won, even before the game began.

“I hope this doesn’t become a habit.” He stepped around the desk, walking toward me. His movements were fluid, deliberate, like every step was calculated to intimidate.

I took a deep breath, keeping my posture straight. “I’m here to work, Mr. Castelli. Not to disappoint you.”

“Good,” he said, stopping a few feet away. “Because this project demands absolute focus. There’s no room for distractions.”

His eyes locked onto mine, as if he were testing me, waiting to see if I would crumble. But I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“Distractions won’t be a problem,” I replied firmly.

He tilted his head slightly, as if intrigued. “We’ll see.”

The rest of the meeting was a whirlwind of information—contracts, deadlines, strategies. He spoke with the precision of someone who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. But the whole time, I felt his eyes on me, analyzing every reaction, every movement.

When the meeting finally ended, he approached me and extended his hand. I hesitated for a moment before shaking it, feeling the firmness of his grip.

“Welcome to the team, Miss Mendes,” he said, his voice smooth but carrying something I couldn’t quite identify.

I quickly let go of his hand, fighting the urge to rub my fingers against my skirt. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As I left his office, I felt like I was leaving a battlefield. My heart was racing, my mind a mess. Dante Castelli was still the same cold, ruthless man, but something about him felt different. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, as if trying to unravel something even I didn’t understand.

But I couldn’t let myself be affected. I was here for one reason: to prove to myself that I was stronger now, that he no longer had power over me.

“How did it go?” Camila’s voice, my best friend, came through the phone as I entered the elevator.

“It was... intense,” I admitted, leaning against the wall.

“Intense good or intense bad?”

I sighed. “I’m still deciding.”

She laughed softly. “Remember, Isa. He’s just another client. Don’t let him get into your head.”

I wanted to agree, but I knew it wasn’t that simple. Dante had never been “just another client.” And as much as I wanted to deny it, something in me knew that working alongside him would be more complicated than I could ever imagine.

When I finally stepped out of the building and felt the fresh air on my face, I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the tension clinging to my skin.

But as I walked down the sidewalk, one question kept hammering in my mind: was I truly ready to face Dante Castelli again?

Because if there was one thing I knew about him, it was that Dante never played fair.

And this time, I wasn’t sure I’d make it out of this game unscathed.