Sara's POV

Who didn't know Elysia's court?

I had been here twice under different aliases and I had walked with an air of confidence like I owned the place. Well, back then, I had Frank Tower's credit card.

But now, I scruffled behind Pat, fighting to keep my act, while my eyes roamed around the room already looking for the perfect ten outfits from the lines of rack that held nothing but the best

I have been here before so I knew exactly where I was going.

Pat was speaking to the sales manager when I walked to the exclusive lounge. I knew I shouldn't be doing it. But I couldn't help it. A con artist never refuses an opportunity. Not one that came with this packaging.

Carlos, with all his menace, might just be a cloud with a silver lining.

A black gown caught my attention, its fabric shimmering like midnight. Beside it was the price tag. That was not my problem.

I never check.

I plucked it from the hanger, draping it over my body, imagining how it would hug my curves.

"No...no," the sales manager said the moment she saw me, her voice cutting through my reverie. She rushed towards me with Pat standing and gawking incredulously. "You can't touch that."

I tightened my grip on the how, flaring with a deviance that didn't suit Irene.. "Why?" I demanded.

I didn't need to be timid before Pat. Only Carlos Alvarez deserved that.

"I have been given a blank cheque to get whatever I want." I thrust the gown towards her. "You think I am not worth it?"

I unclasped it before she could say anything and the gown fell on the ground. It hit the floor with a soft thud.

A thousand dollars sound..

Two shrieks echoed. Pat's gasp and the manager's cry. The sales manager rushed to retrieve the gown but I stepped on it, ripping it.

"Irene!" Pat's voice was sharp, her eyes wide with horror.

"What have you done?!" the manager wailed, clutching the ruined dress.

I faced Pat who was watching the scene, teary eyes and beyond appalled.

"You said it, didn't you?" I snapped at her. "I'm the face of Carlos Alvarez. How dare she treat me this way?"

She shook her head with trembling voice. "That dress is worth thousands of dollars, Irene. You can't abuse the boss's generosity."

That was why she was stuck in a mini skirt and an automated voice at her age because of her lack of ambition, thinking Carlos was doing the best for her.

Blah blah blah...

I would have made enough money to own a private yacht if I had been her.

I rolled my eyes and pointed at the gown that was now resting on the sales manager's hand as she talked to security on the phone.

"That doesn't count," I said, unfazed. "I'll begin my picking if you don't mind."

I saw her face turn pale. Had she thought I was some saint? For someone who worked for Carlos Alvarez, she should be accustomed to cruelty.

Why pretend?

I moved to the cloth rack and was reaching for another dress when I heard a male voice.

"Ma'am," it said.

I ignored it. That was surely the security man she was calling.

But when I felt his hand against my back, I became enraged.

"How dare you?!" I demanded, seething.

Evelyn was dying to come to the surface. I wanted so badly to tell them off about how I was a billionaire disguised in poor clothing and...

Stick to the plot, Sara. Please.

This was going to be too hard.

"I did nothing wrong," I added, my voice dropping. The police man who had been taken aback by my outburst suddenly grew courage.

""You were reported for damaging a dress." he said.

I scoffed. "That's not what happened -"

"I'm sorry ma'am. But you'll have to leave."

Who would believe a lady in faded jeans?

I bit my lips and stared at him defiantly. "I'll be back."

The ride back to Alvarez's estate was quiet. Pat kept stealing glances at me with palpable judgement. She must have misjudged me initially

They always did.

Well, at least, I wouldn't be getting any more advice from her.

But as soon as we arrived, her mouth became a running faucet without control as she spilled everything to Carlos Alvarez. She was in the next room. But I could hear everything from the hall.

"...made a mess of a dress worth hundreds of dollars. We're lucky that they aren't demanding payment."

I heard fist slapping a desk and my heart lurched.

Okay.

Maybe I had gone way too far.

Did I forget that I was working for Carlos Alvarez? The Carlos Alvarez that had a snipper trained on me as I walked into his domain?

My throat suddenly became dry and I strained my ears to hear what he wanted to say.

Anything.

But nothing.

Then I heard his voice. Calm but angry. He was on a call. I didn't have the courage to move closer to the office to hear what he was saying. My heart was racing. Today could as well be my last day alive.

And my twins? Who would take care of them?

I bit my lips to stop the tears and my hands from trembling

Calm down, Sara. You've got this.

But I've got nothing but trouble. A very big trouble at that.

I had secured a job I didn't want and somehow found a way to provoke my boss a few hours later. And not just any boss.

Carlos Alvarez.

I reached for my phone. Maybe I should let Sean know that I wasn't returning back and he had to swear to me that he would take care of my twins and keep them away from their father.

Or maybe, it would be best if he knew. He would take care of them. But he had to promise. No step mother.

How the hell was I going to arrange all that right now? Thomas Grey didn't even know I had twins for him.

My life is pretty messed up, I know.

I fumbled for my phone, trying to find Sean's contact. Where the hell was it?

I stopped.

Take a deep breath, Sara.

Carlos was still on the call and I had no idea if it was a call for my execution. But I had time. Time to arrange for my departure.

I inhaled and exhaled deeply.

My eyes flew to the phone screen and I found his name. I had forgotten I hadn't saved his name as Sean in my state of anxiety.

My relationship with Sean - it was difficult to define. But right now, he identified as my babe.

I was about to hit call when footsteps echoed from the office. Heavy, deliberate. Carlos was coming for me.

Carlos' POV

I was mad. Raving mad.

How dare she?

I slammed the phone against its cradle, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot, and stormed out of the office.

She flinched when she saw me. Irene Peters..

I knew she was fiery when I saw her. It was always easy to identify them.

But right now, whatever fire she had shown at Elysian Court had vanished, and she was back to the cowardly lady who had begged for a job.

I tightened my lips and closed the distance between us. She stood up as I neared her.

"I can explain," she offered.

I stopped. "Begin."

I saw her fidgeting with her fingers and searching for the right words.

"The lady treated me like trash just because I was dressed in faded jeans. I didn't mean to tear the dress. I stepped on it accidentally as she tried to pick it from the floor."

I could tell that she was lying.

She was perfect.

Perfect for me.

Irene Peters could keep a straight face and lie. She was a performer.

"I know I shouldn't have -"

I raised my hand, stopping her mid sentence. Then I stepped closer, close enough to catch the faint floral notes of her cheap cologne. It was maddening, how it drew me in, made me want to lean closer, and smell her every time.

"I told you to get ten free dresses," I started. "Where are they?"

She was visibly shaking. The way her eyes danced whenever I was up close to her was amusing. Whoever she was, she was an enigma.

And she had caught my attention in a way few ever did.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I caused a scene, and they threw me out."

"Threw you out?" My voice sharpened, anger flaring anew. "Did they know I was your sponsor?"

She nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor.

I grabbed her wrist and she let out a gasp in the quiet. "How could you? How could you let them ridicule you? A ridicule to you is like a ridicule to me. How could you let that happen?"

Her eyes danced with fear, and I relished it. Fear was power, and I wielded it like a blade. I tugged her toward the exit, her steps stumbling behind me.

She sat like a cornered animal in the limo, barely breathing. When the vehicle started, I placed a hand on her thigh.

She flinched.

My plan had been to calm her down but I had succeeded in frightening her more.

I took my hand off her body and reached for a flute, pouring chilled champagne, with deliberate calm and expertise, into it. I stretched the full cup towards her.

"For you."

She stared at the flute with a longing her eyes couldn't hide. But she shook her head.

"I couldn't."

"I insist."

She accepted the cup, her fingers brushing mine, took a sip, and dropped it while I watched her, a smile forming from the corner of my mouth. Then she set the flute down too quickly, as if afraid to indulge.

"Who do you think I'm angry at?" I asked her, leaning back. "You or the sales manager?"

She croaked her reply. "Me."

I folded my arms. "Why?"

"I made a mess of your reputation."

I straightened, now serious. "She made a mess of my reputation," I corrected.

The limo came to a stop outside Elysian Court and I stepped out, holding the door for her. But she took the other door, avoiding me. When she rounded the car, I grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

"Never leave me hanging when I open a door for you. Understood?"

She nodded frighteningly and I released her wrist with a shove. The last thing she wanted was to get me mad. I was already livid enough to shut Elysian Court for good.

No one had the audacity to challenge me.

The moment I stepped into the corridors of Elysian Court, whispers flew around and feet scurried away like roaches under a spotlight. My security details fanned behind me and stopped right in front of the entrance.

Irene was walking behind me, back to her frightened state.

Maybe it was better that way. My attempt to ease her in the limo had been a mistake. She had mistaken it for weakness.

The double doors of the building parted automatically and I stepped in and the store manager appeared, her face paling at my sight.

"M-Mr. Alvarez," the store manager stuttered.

I was in no mood to talk. One raise of my hand and one of my men appeared.

"A disrespect to my staff is a disrespect to me," I said, blowing hot. "This will be your last day as manager of this store. I need you to submit your resignation letter before the end of today to your boss."

She nodded without hesitation. My handyman appeared beside her.

"He'll escort you out...after you've rendered your last service. " I turned to face Irene, who was hiding a smirk. "...to my personal assistant."

"Right away, ma'am," she said, genuflecting, while I nested on one of the couches.

Irene vanished with the trembling woman and I focused on the bottle of Merlot sitting beside me. It was taking forever but when Irene stepped out in one of the dresses she had picked, she took my breath away. For a few seconds, all I did was gawk, flute midway towards my mouth.

It was more than the dress. It was the confidence she carried, the spark in her eyes. The defiance. The one I had sensed earlier, now blazing openly, with every step she took towards me. She had completely transformed from a drab nobody to someone who could capture my attention.

And she was still on that unconditioned hair.

I set my flute down and stood up, completely drawn by her presence. Now I saw her eyes, saw the sparks they carried, and even saw the defiance.

"You look...ravishing," I said.

She bowed meekly, her voice soft. "Thank you, Mr. Alvarez."

"Carlos," I responded without hesitation.

No woman had unraveled me like this in years. What was it about her? She was beneath my world, a nobody in faded jeans, yet she held my attention like a hypnotist.

"Carlos," she repeated, half smiling. "It seems you like this," she continued. "Then you'll like the rest I've bought."

Certainly. It looked like she had a good taste but was too poor to afford them.

"Leave this on," I told her, glancing at the time strapped to my wrist. "We have to go now."

I was expecting some shipment and I had to prepare for their arrival.

She nodded and walked to my side. I caught the reflection of the two of us, standing beside each other, from a show glass, her elegance matching my power.

We were like a match made in heaven.

Only that men like me didn't have soulmates. We didn't have a heart. Only control.

So I took my eyes off the reflection and started towards the exit. When we got to the car, she asked. "When will I be returning home today?"

A frown appeared on my face before I spoke. "Never. You'll live with me now."

Sara's POV

Lying on the soft plush bed didn't make the thought of seeing that sniper all so scary anymore.

If anything, I knew I was safely guarded.

It's not everyday you see a billionaire with a hired sniper.

And the cherry on top?

I had just strutted before the mirror in ten luxurious dresses, each one a masterpiece from Elysian Court. Maybe working for a mafia boss had its perks.

I was beyond thrilled. My eyes moved to the ceiling. No more the squeaky noise of Sean's fan. The ceiling had nothing but a big chandelier. One that was adorned with precious crystals..

I was sure they would fetch a fortune.

My phone buzzed beside me and I hoped it wasn't Thomas. He wasn't turning me into the canary that would serenade him to sleep now, was he?

It was Sean.

"Babe," his masculine voice filled my ear.

But his masculinity had not been able to afford me this life. Sean had been a part of my life when I was struggling. A sudden orphan with no roof above her head. He had taken me in, and maybe, in the beginning I had fallen in love. But our relationship was scarcely about love these days.

It was survival.

"When will you be back?" He continued when I didn't respond.

His question made me snort.

Back? Never.

He could enjoy the hotel room for the six days left, and hopefully, my sponsor wouldn't come knocking.

"You deal with Trey if he comes, okay?" I said, reeling with excitement.

"Deal with -? What do you mean? Where the hell are you? You promised some fun tonight."

"You'll still have some fun, Sean," I shot back. "You get the whole room to yourself. No lady would reject a man who's in a lounge. You can get one for six days or one for each day."

"Where the fuck are you?!"

I stood up and sauntered towards the welcome bottle of wine Pat had dropped before leaving, my feet soft against the warm rug lying on the floor. It had been a great joy seeing her scowl while she served me.

Now she knew my place.

I uncorked it while Sean waited for a response. He must have heard the pouring glug of the rich liquid because his tone shifted.

"You're still at Alvarez's?"

I set down the cup with a dramatic sigh. At least, in this space - my space - I can live my dream life.

"Where else would I be, Sean? In your rusty apartment?"

I could see him shaking his head and biting his lower lips. He always does that when he thinks I'm making a mistake - which I was sure is going through his mind presently.

"You're making a mistake, Sara-"

"It's Irene," I fired. "Don't ruin this for me."

"How much is he paying you to accept to stay in his house?"

About that...

I eyed the contract letter that was now resting on a table. Earlier, it had arrived with my bottle of wine. And the only fascinating thing there was the figures.

I threw my head to the head rest of the chair and crossed my leg. I could assume at night that I was actually a sore heir, having the time of her life. With a private sniper to safeguard me. A gift from my father.

"You have no idea," I purred.

"Tell me," he insisted. "We're business partners after all, aren't we?"

I shot up. "Guess."

"I expect nothing but a thousand."

I drew circles on the table with a satisfying smile plastered on my face. "You would want to add an 's' to that, Sean. Did you see the pictures I sent this afternoon?"

Of course. I couldn't relish my perfect outlook this afternoon alone. I had to send a few to Sean. If I operated a social media account - which I didn't; rule of being a successful con artist - I would have posted a few.

You either be an influencer or a con artist.

And influencers are the ones jumping off roofs daily. I'd pass.

"I see why you don't want to leave."

His tone had changed suddenly. Sean was always...Sean.

"Not like I had a choice," I said. "Carlos wants me here. And yes, he told me to address him as Carlos."

"Well, don't you dare get a Carlos baby."

I choked on the drink in my mood, spluttering.

"What's that supposed to mean.?"

"Well ...you're looking all hot and staying under his roof. It took you one night to carry Thomas's kids, didn't it?"

I rolled my eyes. "Your mouth will put you in a big mess, Sean. Why am I stuck with you?"

"I'm like that toxic boyfriend you can't leave because you love chaos."

I scoffed. "No, Sean. At this point, I'm the toxic one and you're the one who can't leave."

"You're toxic, Sara. I agree."

"Irene Peters to you, Sean."

I stood up and walked to the bed. Falling on it was like falling into clouds.

"Goodnight, Sean. Make sure you enjoy that hotel room because you won't be seeing another one until this..." I lowered my voice. "...mission is over."

"Just don't sleep with Mr. Alvarez. It always starts with calling them by their first name."

I rolled my eyes. "Just like I have you baby, Sean."

"You would never have a baby for a poor man."

"My ovaries reject poverty, Sean."

I ended the call and stared at the chandelier's prisms. And then I realised. Carlos had mentioned something about a shipment and he wasn't back home.

This was the right time to start shuffling throughout the house. Carlos was away, slicing life out of some good and bad boys. And Pat was home, sulking.

All that was left here was a watchful sniper.

He couldn't be that dangerous now, could he?