Taste Of You

The Return

Chapter 5 – The Return

Two years later.

“The Isabelle Hart” Someone muttered as I walked into the office. “The shark is back.”

I'd taken a month's vacation away from work to tour Italy and to celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday, and now that I was back, I felt the rush of working again.

I caught my reflection in the glass wall beside the elevator and smiled inwardly. I wore a sharp blazer and a silk blouse I'd gotten from Italy which was cut low enough that a little cleavage peeked out. My hair, which was dark and straight, brushed my collarbones, framing a face that only looked soft until people remembered what my reviews could do.

Pretty, but dangerous. Exactly the balance I wanted.

Coffee in one hand and notebook tucked under my arm, I pushed open the boardroom door. When I entered, everyone seemed to sit up a little straighter.

And then I stopped dead in my tracks. What the f**k??!!

At the head of the table sat Luca Devereaux. He looked nothing like the man I'd destroyed two years ago. His charcoal suit fit his broad shoulders like glue and his silver hair was now dark and cut so low that it framed his face.

His shirt was open at the throat in a purposeful show of carelessness. He smiled at me and I forgot how to breathe.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I snapped before I could stop myself.

“Good morning to you too, Isabelle,” he said smoothly, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“Why are you here?” I replied not caring about the other people in the room who were beginning to look at us.

The managing editor cleared his throat nervously. “Perhaps we should begin—”

“Let him answer,” I cut in, my eyes still fixed on Luca.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching one arm across the table’s edge like a king surveying his court. “Because I own this magazine now. Devereaux Media acquired it last month.”

Murmurs broke out around the table as I surged forward. “You what?”

“I built an empire, Isabelle,” he said, still smiling. “It's a collection of restaurants, hotels, media houses, and this is just one of the many acquisitions, and it's one I'm most looking forward to.”

I swallowed, heat crawling up my neck. “Congratulations. I’m sure the irony isn’t lost on you.”

“Oh, it’s delicious.” His eyes swept the room. “Shall we get started?”

He stood, tall enough that the room seemed smaller, and his shoulders filled the space. He placed a folder on the table and opened it, sliding glossy pages toward us.

“This year, Devereaux Media will launch a feature series covering the full scope of my empire. The restaurants, the hotels, the investments, the expansions abroad. We want to show the world not just food, but the machinery behind it. It will run for twelve months.”

A junior editor raised her hand timidly. “Who will be writing it?”

Luca’s eyes flicked to me, “Isabelle Hart.”

The blood drained from my face. “Excuse me?”

“You’ll shadow me,” he said. “Every event, every launch, every meeting. You’ll write the story of Devereaux.”

I laughed, shaking my head from side to side. This was a bad dream I hoped to wake up from. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m always serious.”

“You want me,” I said, pointing to myself, “to follow you around for a year?”

“That’s the idea.”

I shook my head. “This is insane.”

“It’s business.” His smile widened. “And business is something you should start understanding, Isabelle.”

I slammed my notebook shut. “I’m not doing it.”

“You don’t have a choice. Either you do it, or I fire you, and trust I'll be well within my rights to.”

The room went so quiet I could hear the buzz of the overhead lights. I leaned forward, meeting his stare. “This is revenge.”

He tilted his head. “Revenge? That sounds so petty. Why would I want revenge?”

My chest burned and I fought the urge to hit something. “You want me to write puff pieces to fix your reputation?”

“No.” He stepped closer, stopping just behind my chair. I could smell his cologne. “I want you to see what you tried to kill. I want you to stand in the middle of it while I show the world I’m untouchable. And I want you to put my name on every page you write.”

I turned slightly, almost brushing his arm with my shoulder. “You think you can force me?”

He bent closer, his mouth near my ear. “Like I said, you don't have a choice, Belle.”

A shiver ran down my spine, one I hated myself for. I pushed back my chair and stood abruptly, forcing space between us. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I’ve been called worse.” The editors pretended to shuffle papers, not daring to intervene.

I crossed my arms. “You think you can trap me in this little power play. But you forget something, Luca.”

“Oh?” His eyebrow lifted, with an arrogant tilt that infuriated me.

“I don’t scare easily.”

Luca clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Well, good. Because I would be disappointed if you did, Ms. Hart.”

I didn't say anything else as the rest of the meeting unfolded. I just sat too still, my nails digging into my palm. Luca barely glanced at anyone else, I could feel his eyes digging into me.

So naturally, when the meeting ended, I quickly gathered my things, eager to leave. But I had no such luck, of course.

“Isabelle..” Luca stopped me at the door, blocking my path. “Welcome back to my world.”

I scoffed and forced a small smile. “Don't flatter yourself, big guy. I'm only here for the paycheck.”

Luca had the nerve to smile, his teeth showing. He was thoroughly enjoying this. “That's what I'm counting on. See you tomorrow….”

I walked out before he could say more, my heels striking the floor harder than necessary.