07|Text messages 

Isla’s pov.

“This is your new office, and I’ve printed out Mr. Voss’s schedule for you,” Liam, Alaric's other secretary, announced as he dropped what looked like an entire book onto the desk with a heavy thud.

My jaw nearly hit the floor.

Eyes wide, I turned to Liam, half-expecting him to burst into laughter and tell me it was all a joke. But instead, he simply flipped the book open with a practiced ease and pointed to a page.

“If you go to page 24, you’ll find the CEO likes and dislikes,” he said matter-of-factly. “For example, here, it details exactly how Mr. Voss likes his coffee—black and bland, no sugar.”

My eyes flickered to the line he was indicating, and sure enough, in bold letters, it read:

Mr. Voss likes his coffee black and bland. No sugar and absolutely no milk. Please take note of this.

I stared at the words in disbelief. What the actual hell? He didn’t really expect me to read and memorize all of this, right?

“And here,” Liam continued, completely unfazed by my shock, “you’ll find Mr. Voss’s favorite restaurants for lunch and dinner each day of the week. You’re required to memorize all of them and make reservations accordingly. Mr. Voss prefers to dine alone, so you’ll need to book the whole restaurant a day in advance. The restaurants are aware of this, but you must confirm so they can prepare ahead of time.”

I blinked, trying to process the sheer level of precision this man demanded.

“And if you go to page 65,” Liam went on, flipping through the pages, “you’ll see that Mr. Voss dislikes noise, distractions, and—most importantly—being touched without his permission. I’d advise you to be extra careful if you want to last longer than the others.”

I inhaled sharply at his words, and a bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

Remember when I mentioned that Alaric was incredibly well-known despite not being a celebrity? Well, that was because of another simple reason—he was, to put it in simple word, ruthless.

Alaric had an infamous reputation for being cold-hearted and merciless. There was a time he had completely destroyed a business partner’s entire fortune overnight just because the man had gone behind his back to strike a deal with Alaric’s biggest rival, James Voss. His half-brother.

I didn’t know all the details, but from what I had heard, it had been brutal. No one in the industry dared to cross him after that. His nickname in the business world? Black Devil.

And now, here I was, expected to work under him. The same man whose secretaries never lasted more than a week.

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to stay calm. What the hell was my father thinking ?

Oh, right. Money.

My father had sent me here for one reason—to secure a partnership with Alaric's company. I wasn’t even surprised. If it meant adding more wealth to his name, he’d probably sell me to the devil himself.

“And if you go to page 97—”

“I will read it!” I cut in quickly, stopping Liam before he could continue. At this rate, it was better to just read everything on my own than listen to him list out every single page.

“I-I'll read and memorize it. You don’t have to worry—I’m pretty quick at remembering things.” I forced a nervous smile, reaching out to cover the book before pulling it toward me.

The moment I lifted it, I nearly staggered under its weight. How big was this thing?

It felt like I was holding an entire dictionary.

Liam shifted his cold eyes to me, and for a brief moment, I felt as if I were being scrutinized under his gaze. I swallowed hard, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the way he was staring at me.

“I—” I began, nervously pushing my glasses up my nose, but he cut me off before I could finish.

“Okay. If I remember anything I forgot to add, I will inform you. Have a lovely day, Miss Isla,” he finally said, his face expressionless before giving me a slight bow.

Huh? There’s still more?

“O-of course. Thank you for your help,” I replied, returning his bow and watching as he walked out of the office, leaving me alone in silence.

The moment the door closed behind him, I exhaled a breath of relief and slumped onto the desk, my hand running through my hair in frustration. Everything was happening all at once.

Hell, my wedding had just been crashed a week ago, and now I was stuck in this mess. It felt like the whole universe was against me—especially since I had to work under Alaric.

"Oh, I’m sure it will."

His words echoed in my mind, and I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he meant by that.

Sigh. Today couldn’t possibly get any worse.

And yet, it did.

My phone dinged. Exhaling, I walked to my seat and pulled it from my pocket, glancing at the screen. Message notifications.

My frown deepened as I read the messages. It was almost amusing—of all people, the ones who had made my life hell in one way or another were the ones texting me.

Father: Don’t mess this up, Isla. You know what’s at stake. If something happens again, I won’t be as merciful—I’ll just marry you off.

Stepmother: Isla, darling, how are you? I know you don’t want to work at Voss Corporation, so when you get home, could you talk to your father and ask him to let your older sister work there instead?

Isolde: You bitch! You must be so happy, thinking you took my place, huh? Just wait—you’ll see what I’ll do to you!

Kieran: Hey, little sis. I saw that pretty blue bag you were wearing the other day. My girlfriend, Stella, loves it. Could you give it to her?

I narrowed my eyes into a glare as I tapped on the unknown number, already knowing who it was before even reading the message.

Unknown Number: Hey, baby. Please don’t block this number. I’m really sorry for what happened—I don’t know what came over me. But it’s you I love, please believe me. When you see this, please text me back so we can work this out. I can’t live without you, baby.

Ugh! The audacity of these people!

I tossed my phone onto the desk and slumped into my seat, rubbing my temples in frustration.

Everyone—every single one of them—thought they could treat me this way, as if I wasn’t human, as if I didn’t have feelings.

But I did.

The man I had given my heart to, my everything, had betrayed me like three years meant nothing to him. The family I had expected to stand by me during this time had turned their backs on me, treating me like nothing more than a servant at their beck and call.

And the worst part? No matter how many times I told myself not to expect anything from the man I called my father, some foolish part of me still clung to the hope that he cared—that, despite his hatred, there was something in him that saw me as his daughter. But each time, I was only met with disappointment.

Before I could stop it, my lips trembled, and I inhaled sharply as tears threatened to fall. But before they could, another notification lit up my phone screen.

Despite telling myself to ignore it, my hand moved on its own, swiping to see who had messaged me.

The moment my eyes landed on the name, my heart dropped.

The devil: Coffee. My office. Now.