Page 2 of The Forbidden Billionaire Attorney

He doesn’t even flinch, just continues that stare-down like he’s trying to communicate with me telepathically. If only he knew telepathy wouldn’t penetrate the fortress around my brain when it comes to him.

“Isabella,” he repeats, slower this time, as if speaking to a particularly defiant child, “we have a certain standard we abide by. And that standard results in wins for our clients. I’m not sure where you learned how to—”

“Stanford,” I interrupt, leaning forward with a pointed look. “Ever heard of it? That’s where I graduated from—the top law school in the country. The same one your father went to.”

Adrian snorts, a sound that reeks of old-money arrogance and Ivy League rivalry. “Tied for number one, actually.” His correction comesquick, sharp like the edge of his tailored gray suit that does little to diminish the impact of his dark hair. Even his tie is a perfect shade of blue, bringing out those deep brown eyes that are currently fixed on me with a mix of irritation and something else I can’t place. It all makes him look more like a GQ cover model than a cutthroat lawyer.

“Of course you’d say that,” I scoff, the words rolling off my tongue with ease. “Yale boy through and through. Can’t stand the thought of being anything less than top dog, can you?”

The corner of his mouth twitches as if he’s fighting back a smirk or maybe a snarl—it’s hard to tell with Adrian.

“Anyway,” I continue, brushing aside his competitive jab, “to answer your question, your father was the one who taught me everything I know and apply to this day.” I lean back now, crossing my arms over my chest.

A flicker of something passes through Adrian’s eyes—surprise, maybe accusation, but it’s gone before I can dissect it.

“Thomas Cole was a mentor to me.” I let the words hang in the air between us for a moment. “He believed in my approach, and I’m pretty sure he’d agree with how I handled things today.”

“Is that so?” Adrian leans back in his chair. “You think because my father spent a few hours indulging your questions back at USC while you were an undergrad, you have insight into how he would conduct business?”

“Morethan a few hours,” I retort, standing my ground. “He made time for me because he saw my potential. He wasn’t just a brilliant lawyer, Adrian—he was a great teacher too.”

“Was he, now?” The words are clipped, his jaw tightens, and I know I’ve struck a nerve. Good. Maybe it’ll knock some sense into that thick skullof his.

“Absolutely,” I insist, my own determination mirroring his stubbornness. “And unlike some people, I appreciated his guidance.”

Adrian’s gaze narrows, and he opens his mouth, no doubt ready to launch another counterargument, but I’m not done yet.

“Maybe if you weren’t so busy trying to step out from his shadow, you’d see that.” The challenge in my voice is clear, and it’s satisfying to see him pause, caught off guard by my audacity.

Adrian’s hand comes down hard on the mahogany, a sound that might’ve made me jump if I weren’t so pissed. “You think you know my father from a few chats in his office?”

I’m on my feet now, my chair scraping back with an aggression that mirrors my mood. “He was more than willing to share his wisdom with someone who actually wanted it,” I snap back, letting the sting in my voice show.

I don’t miss the way Adrian’s nostrils flare, the muscle in his jaw ticking like a time bomb.

“Unlike some people in this room,” I add, feeling a flicker of satisfaction when his eyes flash with something fierce. He looks like he might explode, which, honestly, would be the cherry on top right about now.

My gaze drifts to the silver frame on his desk, the one holding a photo of Caleb. The kid’s got his dad’s dark hair, but thankfully not the scowl that seems etched onto Adrian’s face these days. I’ve met the little guy a few times when Adrian bothered to show up to my family’s annual Christmas party. He’s cute and sweet, the total opposite of Adrian.

“Thomas Cole was an exceptional lawyer,” I continue, locking eyes with Adrian, making sure every word hits home. “An even better person. Can’t say the same for you.”

His reaction is priceless—eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. It’s almost enough to make me smile. Almost.

“I sincerely hope Caleb doesn’t grow up to treat you like you treated your dad.” I toss the words like a grenade, watching as they land with precision.

For a moment, all the air in the room feels sucked out, leaving only the tension that crackles like static. Then, without another word, I whirl around and storm out, letting the door slam shut behind me as I leave Adrian Cole speechless.

Take that, Mr. Billionaire Lawyer.

I barrel into my office like it’s the last safe zone in a game of tag. The door slams shut with a thud, and I lean against it, trying to catch my breath. My legs feel like they’ve been put through one of those noodle-makers—twisted, stretched, and way too wobbly.

“Great job, Isabella,” I mutter to myself. “First day on the job and you’ve already committed career hara-kiri.”

I shuffle over to my desk and sit back in my chair. I’m dead meat. Adrian Cole, the man who turns boardrooms into battlefields, is probably drafting my execution order right now.

“Stanford didn’t prepare me for this,” I groan, staring up at the ceiling tiles as if they hold some sort of escape hatch from my current predicament.

The silence in my office is deafening, my own thoughts bouncing around like ping-pong balls.

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