The life of a powerful woman

Scarlett Reyes had no patience for rich people—especially the ones who looked at her like she was beneath them. And the woman currently standing at the counter? She was the worst kind. Victoria Hale. Scarlett had seen her type before—powerful, entitled, and devastatingly beautiful. The kind of woman who walked into a room and expected the world to bend at her feet. Dressed in a black designer suit that hugged every inch of her tall, toned body, Victoria radiated authority. Her platinum-blonde hair was slicked back into a perfect, no-nonsense bun, and her icy blue eyes swept the café with clear disapproval, as if she regretted even breathing the same air as the people around her. Scarlett should’ve just taken her order, made her coffee, and moved on with her life. But when Victoria stepped up to the counter, barely glancing at her, and said, “Americano. Black. Extra hot,” like Scarlett was a damn machine—something inside her snapped. Scarlett crossed her arms over her chest, c*****g her hip against the counter. “Say please.” Victoria’s perfectly sculpted brows lifted, her lips parting slightly, as if she’d just been personally offended. “Excuse me?” Scarlett leaned in slightly, letting her smirk deepen. “I said, say please.” The café went silent. Even the espresso machine seemed to stop whirring, like it was holding its breath. A couple of customers subtly shifted in their seats, sensing that something dangerous was about to happen. Victoria didn’t move. Didn’t blink. But there was something new in her expression—an amused glint behind the ice. Then, she took a slow step forward, closing the space between them until the scent of her perfume wrapped around Scarlett. Expensive. Dark. Something rich and heady, like whiskey and vanilla. Her voice dropped into something low, something that sent an unwanted shiver down Scarlett’s spine. “Please.” It wasn’t a request. It was a command. A slow, deliberate test of power. Scarlett clenched her fingers around the edge of the counter, refusing to show the way her breath hitched. She wasn’t the type to get flustered, especially not by some high-and-mighty CEO who thought she could get whatever she wanted with a single word. But f**k. The way Victoria said it. Scarlett swallowed hard, forcing herself to move. She turned, grabbed a cup, and filled it with hot coffee, the warmth grounding her as she tried to ignore the way her pulse had started pounding. She slid the cup toward Victoria. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Victoria took the cup, fingers brushing against Scarlett’s just long enough to make her stomach tighten. Then, instead of leaving, she lifted the coffee to her lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip—her eyes never leaving Scarlett’s. The movement was almost obscene, the way her lips parted, the way her throat worked as she swallowed. Scarlett sucked in a breath, gripping the counter harder. Was it her imagination, or had Victoria just—no. There was no way she’d done that on purpose. Right? Victoria’s lips curled into the faintest smirk, as if she knew exactly what Scarlett was thinking. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking against the tile. Scarlett exhaled, feeling every pair of eyes in the café still locked on her. Her best friend and coworker, Mia, slid up beside her, grinning. “Holy s**t,” she whispered. “Are you trying to get yourself eaten alive?” Scarlett groaned, rubbing a hand over her face. “She’s just another rich b***h. I don’t care.” Mia gave her a look. “Uh-huh. Sure. Tell that to your face.” Scarlett scowled, shoving the next order into Mia’s hands. “Go make a latte before I fire you.” Mia snorted. “You wish you were my boss.” She winked before walking off, leaving Scarlett alone at the counter. Scarlett let out another slow breath, shaking off the lingering heat curling in her stomach. This wasn’t the last time she’d see Victoria Hale. And, god help her—she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a very, very bad one.