Page 72 of The Veiling

“So,” I smirked, “I see you found a few things you liked.”

“I did, thank you.”

“Of course, bella.” I checked my watch, ready to offer her food.

Mr. Greco. Grace’s voice came from the desk phone intercom.

I backed away from Isabelle, lurching to my desk. “Yes?”

There’s a Mr. Carlos Ortega here for a meeting.

I lifted my gaze to Isabelle, repeating the name in my head. “I don’t have a meeting with that person today.”

He said he’s actually here to speak with Miss Isabelle.

Isabelle’s mouth fell agape, and her eyes widened.

“I’ll go meet with him in the conference room.”

“No, it’s okay.” Isabelle took a step forward.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Trust me.”

“Okay.” I pressed the mic. “Send him in, Grace.”

Isabelle hurried to my side, and we waited. A few moments later, the door pushed open. A tall, slender man stepped in carrying a briefcase in one hand and a brown fedora in the other.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Greco, Miss Ayala.” He held his hat up next to the coat rack. “May I?”

Sliding my hands in my pockets, I nodded. Noah stepped in, followed by Joseph. They moved to each side, guarding the only exit and closed the door. Isabelle inched a little closer to me as the man sauntered over.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“Well,” he gestured to one of the chairs in front of my desk, “may I sit?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you.” He sat down. “I’m Mr. Felipe Ayala’s attorney and—”

“Get out,” I spat.

“But, sir—”

“Whatever you’re here for, we don’t want to entertain it.”

“Wait,” Isabelle interjected, holding a hand up. “I know him.”

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am, you do but I haven’t seen you in many years.”

“Why are you here?”

I cocked a brow, watching Isabelle calmly speak to the man who mentioned the name of the one person she hated.

“It seems your uncle has had anunfortunate accidentand has passed away.”

Isabelle rested her hands on her hips. “Mr. Ortega, you know I never liked him.”

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