Chapter 4

　　Zein's Pov

　　The minute she left, I had Manol give her the message to not resume the next week anymore, but tomorrow. The sooner I claim her for myself, the better.

　　It's been years since I cared about someone other than Steven. Her little mumbles the night I had my tongue licking every ounce of innocence away for a minute, she had me.

　　She definitely had me. I didn't think I'd be swayed by someone I met in just a night. Her gorgeousness hit me so hard, I could almost ask her to be mine forever. And I'd do that. She had to be mine.

　　My secretary had slid the final stack of HR documents onto my desk, I knew I recognized her face. She definitely had the potential, and I didn't need a second look.

　　I gave the greenlight for her employment, but not without adjusting the offer. "Add fifty percent to her initial salary," I told Manol.

　　If she was going to work for me, she'd be paid properly. Especially now that I was certain I wanted her so close to me, close that she'd be unable to refuse everything I give to her.

　　"Sir, she'll be resuming tomorrow," Manol informed. "I gave her the call already to resume tomorrow instead and sent the mail of the 50% increase."

　　I smiled to myself. She ran away, but she'd be back. After all, she'd be working for me.

　　"Godfather," a familiar voice called. It was Steven. He walked in gently, smiling and held a box of stuff I knew was mine, and I was about to know why.

　　I gestured at the seat across from me. "Steven. How are you? You barely visit on days like this."

　　He sat, all eager and boyish—just like his father once was. If only he'd inherited the sense of discipline.

　　Steven's father, Gregory, had been more than a friend. He was the only man I trusted when I had nothing. And after he passed, I swore I'd take care of his boy like my own. I gave Steven more than enough. Groomed him to eventually take over—until I started getting whispers of unethical behaviors. The shareholders of the company wouldn't approve of someone like that being in charge.

　　"You're eating pancakes," Steven said, gesturing at my plate.

　　"I am," I muttered, wiping my hands. "To what do I owe this visit?"

　　He reached down beside him and placed the sleek black box on the table. "A small token of appreciation."

　　I arched my brow.

　　"Wines," he added. "And this—" he slid over a file, "—the project I secured in Boston last month."

　　For once, he did something right, or he made someone do it?

　　"And I'm hoping you can help me with something," Steven continued, watching my face carefully.

　　"What is it?"

　　He hesitated. "I… I need your help finding someone."

　　I narrowed my eyes. "Who?"

　　He shifted in his seat. "I'm going to keep that to myself, Godfather"

　　I leaned back in my chair. "And you want me to help you? How?"

　　"$50 million," Steven said without blinking.

　　I raised an eyebrow. My pen paused in mid air. "That's a steep figure. What could a man like you possibly need fifty million dollars for?"

　　He shrugged, trying to look confident, but I saw the twitch in his jaw. "I said it earlier, it's a personal investment. I need to look for someone and I'd need money. I know you can help me—"

　　I didn't say a word. I got my cheque book, tore and wrote $50m, signed it and handed it over to him.

　　His face lit up.

　　I knew for sure that was the last time I'd give him anything.

　　He stilled for a moment, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

　　He stood up with gratitude dripping from his mouth, then walked out with a spring in his step.

　　I reached for the phone on my desk and called Manol.

　　"Manol," I said as soon as he picked up. "I want someone to follow Steven. And do it quietly. Find out what he does with money and every person he meets. Do. Not. Miss. A. Detail."

　　"Yes, sir."

　　I hung up and leaned back in my chair.

　　The silence of the room settled around me, and I glanced down at the empty plate where Joann's untouched pancake sat.

　　I stood and made my way to the private quarters behind my room's office. I sat on the edge of the bed, my eyes half closed, thinking about her.

　　She was perfect I'm every way. Her sleek body, those eyes that cried for my touch the other night. Her tightness down there, and her gracious scent…

　　I made a mental note to take her shopping when she resumed—one of the best malls in the city. I wanted to see her in something of her choosing… but also something designed just for her as someone that's going to be all mine soon enough. Custom made dresses, a tailored coat. Wristwatches engraved with my company's emblem—hers alone.

　　Everything about her was going to scream that she was mine.

　　I returned to my desk and opened my laptop. A few keystrokes later, I was deep into the company's intranet, following the progress reports from various departments.

　　Everything looked solid, except for one.

　　The design department, and the construction teams. Sanchez tech was doing well, but I couldn't say the same for our design department, not the construction team either.

　　They had been struggling to finalize the concept for the President's youngest daughter's sixteenth birthday. The pressure was high, it was a 70 billion deal on the line. Publicity, international exposure and prestige were on the line….and no one had cracked it.

　　But Joann… I had a feeling she would.

　　There was something in those eyes that looked at me with precision. Sharpness, but also vision. That girl had taste, whether she realized it or not.

　　If she could solve this, if she could pitch the right design and win the President's favor…I'd know for sure what kind of gold mine I'd stumbled on.

　　I smiled to myself, my fingers brushing over the mousepad as I marked the file.