The husband she never wanted

9

Alessia didn't like the building before she even stepped inside. Everything looked expensive.

Not in the obvious way people usually try to show off wealth. There were no gold decorations. No ridiculous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. No giant sculptures standing in the middle of the lobby demanding attention.

Everything looked expensive because it was effortless.

The marble floors reflected the overhead lights without a single mark on them. The furniture looked like it had been selected by someone who charged obscene amounts of money simply for having opinions. Even the air smelled expensive.

Alessia didn't know how air could smell expensive. Yet somehow it did. People moved through the lobby quietly, speaking in low voices while carrying folders, tablets and cups of coffee. Nobody appeared rushed. Nobody appeared stressed.

It felt unnatural. Like an entire building had been trained not to embarrass itself.

The bodyguards led her toward the reception desk before stopping. One of the women behind it immediately stood. She recognized the men accompanying her.

That alone was enough to annoy her.

The receptionist offered a professional smile. The kind that looked rehearsed. Practiced. Like she'd spent years perfecting the exact angle and duration.

"Miss Moretti."

Alessia resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Apparently everybody in this building already knew who she was.

"Mr. Alvan is expecting you." Of course, he was. The receptionist gestured toward a seating area nearby.

"If you'd like to wait, he'll see you shortly." Alessia nodded before walking toward the chairs. The place somehow managed to feel both crowded and empty at the same time. People existed everywhere, yet nobody seemed to actually interact with one another. Conversations were short. Movements were efficient. Every person looked as though they had somewhere important to be.

The entire building reminded her of Damien. Cold. Organized. Controlled. She already hated it.

"This definitely looks like his kind of place."

The comment slipped out before she could stop it. One of the bodyguards pretended not to hear. Coward. With a sigh, she dropped into one of the chairs and crossed her legs. The wait wasn't long.

Five minutes at most. Still enough time to make her imagination run wild. By the time the receptionist approached again, Alessia had already mentally rehearsed at least three different arguments and two possible exits.

"Miss Moretti?" She immediately stood.

"Yeah?" The woman smiled politely.

"This way." Alessia followed her through a set of security doors and into another section of the building. Eventually they reached the end of the hallway.

Large double doors stood ahead. Dark wood. Minimalist. Intimidating in the same way everything else in the building seemed determined to be. The assistant stopped.

She knocked once before opening the door slightly.

"She's here." A voice came from inside. Deep. Calm. Annoyingly familiar.

"Send her in."

The assistant stepped aside.

The office door swung open.

Alessia squared her shoulders.

If Damien Alvan thought this conversation was going to be easy, he was about to have a very disappointing afternoon.