Grey's POV

I watched as her lips curled into a frown, defiance flashing in her eyes

I had expected nothing.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded like she owned the place.

She was about to slam the door, but I stopped it with my hand and a foot forward, blocking the threshold.

"I was clear with my instructions, Ms. Anderson," I said, my voice low.

I could feel my heart racing as I pinned my eyes on her, the dark sunglasses I wore, now the only thing that stopped me from looking like a fool.

Sara Anderson looked good. I knew how to pass a compliment when it was deserving. Only that compliments to women like Sara were never meant to be worded. Just secretly expressed.

I stepped further into the room, scanning it: velvet couches, a half-empty bottle of merlot, the city's skyline glinting beyond the window.

"I don't care whatever -" I stopped and faced her, swiftly to catch the scowl on her face. "- whoever you conned last night. You should be in Carlos Alvarez's estate right now, trying to convince him..." I stared at her form in the lingerie for an unholy three seconds, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin. "...however possible."

She seemed to pick up the hint from the tone of my voice because her scowl melted into a smile. But then, she sauntered up to me, the friendly smile metamorphosing into something seductive, dangerous, and strangely, setting my blood on fire.

She placed a hand on my chest and it seemed like time froze. And suddenly, we were in another universe where she could command my attention without consequence.

She brought her lips to my ear and whispered softly.

"Should I demonstrate?"

My body stiffened, a rush of heat that betrayed years of dormancy. I grabbed her hand off my chest, backing away from her as far as possible. I cleared my throat and straightened my suit, hoping it would do the same to my mind.

"Luca - my PA would be communicating directly with you," I said, my voice clipped. "You cannot make the mistake of being seen with me or talking to me."

The frown had returned to her face. She nodded and flicked an invisible speck off her lingerie. My eyes moved impulsively to her form. With the way the fabric curled around her figure, it left little for the imagination and more for my unravelling control. Whoever she had worn this for, hadn't stood a chance.

"I can handle myself," she said cooly, locking her eyes with mine.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Grey," she continued. "But I'm usually a bad hostess to men who send me on deadly missions. I'll be in the shower. The door is over there." She pointed at the door. "Use it when you want to leave."

I was about to say something but her hands were already on the straps of her lingerie, pulling it enough to expose her cleavage.

I turned away impulsively.

"Have a good day, Evelyn Rodriguez. I expect good news by evening."

But as I took the elevator and walked back to my car, I couldn't stop thinking about her in that lingerie. I could almost swear that she was someone I knew..

But men like me had nothing to do with women like her. I was already in the car when I realised I hadn't made her sign the contract as I had tasked myself while stepping out of the car a few minutes ago.

"Drive," I told Luca instead.

My heart hadn't raced like this in years, not since Anne. Yet Sara was the kind of woman I avoided: cunning, untamed, a threat to my carefully built walls.

She was the kind of woman I avoided.

"I need a follow up on Sara Anderson," I told Luca.

"Yes, sir," came his reply.

"Ensure she gets to Carlos' estate today, dressed appropriately. Go shopping. Find something perfect. I hope you understand?"

He nodded. "Yes, sire," he replied with a steady voice.

I leaned back, closing my eyes. But when the grainy thought of Sara's semi nude form wasn't terrorising my thoughts, it was the doctor's diagnosis that afflicted my mind.

After building a successful empire all over America and spreading to its environs, my greatest desire was having an heir - mine - that would inherit everything. That I would train just like my father had trained me. But my life seemed to have ended the very day Anne died. Meeting with the doctor today had only sealed my worst fears.

I had no one.

And everything I owned was going to go for charity the moment I was six feet under.

But maybe I refused to believe that final sentencing. Maybe that was why I was still bent on chasing Carlos Alvarez out of my city.

Today, I felt my heart race and even skip a beat. Maybe more would follow in the coming days.

Maybe a woman like Sara Anderson could stir me up in ways I haven't felt in a long time.

"Change of plans," I said, leaning forward. "Take me to the best boutique around. I'll be doing the shopping myself."

"Yes, sire."

La Vie en Luxe was one of the best in Manhattan. As I stepped out of the car, I noticed the camera flashes from the paparazzi. I could imagine the news asking if Thomas Grey was in love again. Only a man in love would shop at La Vie en Luxe.

Only that I wasn't.

My gaze was solid as I stepped into the luxurious space and the moment I saw the purple dress, I knew it would be perfect for her. My chest tightened with the demonizing thought that I wouldn't be able to see her in the dress. But as I ran my hand through the fabric, I felt the palpitations of my heart again. It felt too strange, too good.

I exchanged the gown for a swipe of my card. The bill read in thousands of dollars. But I stepped out as a satisfied man. I dropped the bag in the passenger seat and returned to the back seat.

"Start the car," I instructed Luca. "Return to Milton."

Maybe Sara Anderson was more than a tool to crush Alvarez. Maybe she was the spark to wake me from this half-life..

Sara's POV

My head screamed, but I twisted my lips into a scowl, feigning disgust as I eyed the La Vie en Luxe bag on the Milton lounge's velvet sofa.

"I assumed you had a good taste," I said, my voice dripping with disdain and eyeing the bag like I didn't want to pull out whatever dress was sitting inside. "La Vie en Luxe? Is that the best you can do?"

I heard him growl, low and sharp.

Were my words hurting? Too bad I can't take it back.

"Besides," I said, sauntering away from the bag and hiding my excitement. "I can't go for an interview wearing that. How would Carlos hire a woman who wears a dress from La Vie en Luxe? He's hiring a PA, not a runway model."

I already had plans for the gown. There was a political set up meeting in Manhattan next weekend. Governors, politicians, senators - my kind of men. They would be in attendance. It would be the perfect cloak for Evelyn Rodriguez. And maybe I'll make enough money to pay for the stupid diamond necklace and run far away from the monster he was taking me to.

"What do you suggest I do with it?" He asked. "Return it?"

I spun too fast, forgetting an important rule.

Never show interest.

I bit down my lips and shrugged. "Whatever suits you."

He was gazing at me in a way that made the room feel smaller.

"A date," he blurted.

He stepped closer, repeating, "A date," as if daring me to challenge him.

"We can't be seen together. Remember?"

I knew I had an indelible effect on people, but was j already leaving those marks on Thomas Grey?

Wouldn't it be ironic to watch him fall for me?

I was smirking. But then I stopped. For the sake of the secret I held, it would be better to keep a safe distance from him.

"At my penthouse," he pressed, unrelenting. "Luca will bring you. I expect good news and useful information - actionable intel about Carlos' operation during the date."

I just wanted him gone. He was taking too much space.

I grabbed a worn-out brunette wig, brushing it with deliberate nonchalance. Irene Peters was taking shape in my mind: mousy, spectacled, ponytail, loose jeans, faded top. No seduction for Alvarez-just efficiency. Get in, get the intel, get out. Grey, too, would be a quick exit.

"Fine," I responded, voice flat. "Don't expect too much. I have a habit of disappointing people."

His frown sent my heart in flutters. "No disappointments, Sara."

I slid the wig over my head and placed the spectacles on my nose. The perfect PA look.

Something was missing. I strode to the bathroom for a cheap lipgloss I had bought from a shop. By the time I returned, Thomas Grey was gone.

I stared at my reflection while applying the gloss. "Well, good riddance."

The moment my eyes caught the luxury bag from the mirror, I abandoned everything and ran to it. It was a purple gown.

Purple!

Perfect.

It was almost as though I had whispered the details into his ears. Or like Grey had plucked it from my dreams. I pulled the gown to my chest and stared at my reflection, smiling audaciously. I could already see myself in the meeting, shaking hands, and swiping cards. Thanks to Thomas Grey, I was set for the weekend meeting.

As if on cue, the door clicked and Sean stepped in.

I twirled around with the dress pressed against my body.

"Trey Houston got you this?" He asked, tone laced with unbridled jealousy, his eyes narrowing.

I tossed the gown onto the bed. "Wrong guess."

His eyes followed the gown and lingered on it. "That must be worth something. Nothing less than a thousand."

I pulled a pair of jeans to my waist. "Nothing like good, old money."

"Who's the fish?"

I knew what he would say when I mentioned Thomas's name.

"Thomas Grey."

"The Thomas Grey?"

"He wants a date."

Sean frowned. "What does he want?"

I threw a long sleeved shirt over my body. "I'll be finding out. Trust me."

"Are you gonna sleep with him...again?"

I rolled my eyes. "That is never going to happen. Thomas and I are like opposite sides of a magnet."

"You attract?" He raised a brow.

I scoffed. "Is that what they do?" I glanced at my reflection smugly and faced Sean. "I guess we're same side of a magnet then."

I stepped out of the room. No one recognised me to be the rich heiress who had stepped in last night. Not even the concierge.

Only Sara Anderson could pull that.

I took a cab and drummed my fingers against my purse nervously. My fake ID was in the purse with fake certificates to go. Carlos was a big threat to Thomas Grey for him to go this far.

Too bad I was the victim for his stupid plan.

The cab stopped me a few blocks from Carlos' apartment. No one dares to go a yard close. Not with the hulking, grim-faced men standing around and now watching me as I played the Irene Peters act.

Pay attention!

I tried to brush my tangling wig with my fingers and almost stumbled over a scooter parked carelessly. I cursed angrily and hoped my act was going well. Irene would have been a smoker but I love my lungs too much.

I stopped in front of one of the men who had been watching me with a stare as cold as steel.

"Carlos Alvarez's house?" I asked, pointing to the large gate that clearly led to his mansion, looming ahead like that gate you don't pass through in a horror movie.

"Who are you?"

"Irene....Irene Peters." I fumbled with my purse reaching for an ID, perfectly ignoring his sharp reflex as he tucked his hand into his pocket for a gun.

Thomas Grey was trying to kill me.

I pushed the ID to his face. "See? There's an interview here, isn't there?"

"How did you know?"

I rolled my eyes. "How did you get your job? I can't start telling you my sources, can I now? Is that Carlos Alvarez's house? I need this job to pay off a lot of debt."

He returned the ID card to me, turning away and speaking into an earpiece. His face softened when he faced me.

"Irene Peters," he said. "The boss has been waiting for you."

Sara's POV

My knees were wobbling as I stood before the iron gates of Carlos Alvarez's estate.

How was I going to get out of this mess?

If I was Evelyn Rodriguez, I could handle it. But Irene Peters?

I barely knew her.

I was just discovering who the hell she is.

And I didn't even create her.

"Why are you still standing?" I heard the man say. "Don't you want that job anymore?"

I did. And I didn't.

Damn it!

I wouldn't be standing here if I had simply walked out of that mall. I had overstayed my welcome and now I was paying a huge price for my mistake.

"Did - did you say he was expecting me?"

The man threw a glance at his partner beside him and they burst into a fit of mocking roar.

"Who the hell do you think you are? How can Carlos Alvarez know you?" He sneered. "If you're here for the interview, you should get in now."

At least, that was relieving. I straightened and adjusted my wig. That was one thing about Irene Peters. The wig. It was always clumsily arranged. Then I poked my spectacles closer to my eyes.

"Have a good day gentlemen," channeling Irene's awkward bravado.

Because Evelyn Rodriguez would never.

But, easy does it. I was back to my act.

The gate loomed, its iron spikes a silent threat. Beyond it, the sprawling estate radiated menace, twisting my stomach into knots..

But this was my shot at freedom. Grey's words echoed: Get me what I want, and the necklace is yours. Millions in diamonds, enough to vanish with Sophie and Sam.

That was all I needed to think about right now.

I pushed the gate and stepped into the winding road that felt like a descent into hell. A golf cart idled nearby, its driver a grim-faced man who didn't bother looking at me.

"I'm here for the -"

He started the vehicle without saying a word, cutting me off.

Rude!

I scrambled to catch up, nearly tripping in my scuffed loafers. If he was having a bad day, he should try to be in my shoes. I couldn't even be bothered by his attitude. Not when I was still regretting my decision to come here. But the mansion loomed ahead, its facade, cold and imposing, a silent warning of the man inside.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and alighted from the golf cart. There were armed men all over the place. Who else would have armed men around him this much if not a mafia boss? Even the president didn't need this much security.

My pulse hammered as I approached the entrance, where another guard blocked my path.

"ID," the man in the entrance grunted as I attempted to walk past him.

I fished it from my pocket and flashed it before him. He nodded, made a curt hand signal - that was when I saw the sniper - and shifted for me to move in. My heart palpitations tripled. I had just seen a man dressed in black, belly-down on a tower, his rifle trained on me. One wrong move, and I'd be a memory.

How the hell was I going to do this?

I moved on with false confidence, scanning the room for anyone. It was empty. No candidates. No chatter.

Wasn't there supposed to be an interview going on? I had expected to see a room full of candidates but all I saw was a table, set with food and fruits, because the scent of the food was the first thing that welcomed me into the large luxurious space.

"Hello?" I called, my voice echoing. "Anyone?"

I didn't move. All I could think of was that sniper. I imagined this gun was still pointed at me. A wrong move and I'll be history.

"It's ...Irene. Irene Peters. I came for the interview."

Silence was the only response I got.

I considered bolting now that I had the opportunity, and telling Grey the job fell through, that he'd need another way to earn his damn necklace. But before I could move, a voice sliced through the quiet.

"Irene Peters..."

I turned swiftly as I heard my alias being called, heart lurching. A few feet from me was the legendary Carlos Alvarez, staring at me like he could read my soul, peel off the façade I wore, his presence filling the room like a storm. I adjusted my hair and fumbled for my ID in my pocket.

"Y-yes. I heard there's an interview."

He didn't speak. Only stared for an uncomfortable long three seconds, like he could read my mind, before dropping the leg that was crossed against his knees. He dropped his crossed arms and walked towards me, each step deliberate, a far cry from the beating of my heart against my chest.

"What are your qualifications?"

He was uncomfortably close to him, his cologne, spicy and expensive, invading my space.. Carlos Alvarez, the infamous mafia boss in my hair space. All I could think in that moment was why the hell I had agreed to this in the first place. He raised his hand to my face and I held my breath. This was it.

He was going to call out my bluff at this moment. Maybe I have been unfortunate this time again and maybe - just maybe - if I confessed before he spoke, he would pardon me. I was coerced.

I shut my eyes as his hand closed up to my face, expecting a slap. But instead, I felt a brush against my forehead.

"Don't you have a good conditioner?" I heard, his voice was low and amused like he had never seen a hair that bad.

I threw my eyes open, torn between horror and amusement.

"Don't you know how to answer a question?" He asked, arching a brow.

Right. The Irene Peters act. Clumsy and desperate.

"I-I...I'll get one today," I mumbled, cringing at my own stutter.

His gaze remained on me. Green eyes, watching me. And when the gaze left my eyes, they fell on my body. Faded jeans and shapeless top. Shapeless enough to kill any imagination.

"You can't work for me dressed like this."

Good. That was what I wanted to hear. I didn't qualify. Coming here was a mistake and now I had an answer to give Thomas Grey.

I nodded curtly, suppressing the smile forming from my lips, and turned to go.

But then his voice stopped me.

"Where are you going?" He demanded.l, his voice cold and sharp with authority.

I paused, said a prayer for the first time in a long time, and faced him. He had a scowl on his face like he found me amusing and I was a puzzle he badly wanted to solve. I wanted to be anything but amusing.

"I don't fit," I replied, voice breaking.

He chuckled softly, tossing his dark curls. "Prove to me, Irene Peters, why I should hire you."