The door swung wide open, and in walked one of the Hawthorne heiresses – smart, stunning, and oozing charm. The whole room seemed to hold its breath as she entered, her secretary trailing behind – a fine young man who clearly had his act together. The tension was as clear as day, and you could practically see nerves written all over her face.
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As she steps into the grand conference room, its opulence takes her breath away. The room exudes an air of sophistication, with its sleek marble floors, high ceilings adorned with intricate chandeliers, and walls lined with ornate artwork. The ambiance is a perfect blend of elegance and business prowess.
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In a corner seat, casually reclines the smug figure of Elliot Hawthorne. Sporting an air of self-assuredness, he lounges comfortably, his posture a perfect balance between aloofness and intrigue. A cousin to Isabelle and one of the heirs to the illustrious Hawthorne Corporation, he catches her gaze with a sly grin.
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Taking advantage of the moment, he playfully leans forward, his tone dripping with playful arrogance as he mentions that he happened to be the early bird this time around. The spark in his eyes suggests he's revelling in the chance to catch her off guard, even if just for a moment.
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Something was off, she could sense it. Why else would her uncle summon the entire family into the conference hall? She turned to her brother and explained that she wasn't into the whole "early bird catches the worm" thing. She'd arrived on time, as specified. She took her seat, her mind whirling with questions about why they were all gathered here.
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But then, out of the blue, Elliot had the gall to pop up and ask her the same thing she was wondering. Like, seriously? Accusing her of being up to something? Exasperated, she shot him a look that could curdle milk, and let him know she was just as clueless as he was. In fact, she had a hunch it might be Lucas – the young heir to the Hawthorne legacy – behind whatever was going on.
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