After the meeting, as everyone filed out, Sebastian brushed past Isla.“A clever little idea,” he murmured, his voice dripping with venom.“I’m sure you had… plenty of help polishing it.”
This time, Luca was within earshot. He stopped, turning slowly to face Sebastian. The air in the corridor went cold.
“Croft,” Luca’s voice was quiet, but it carried a lethal edge.“Isla’s work speaks for itself. The next time you imply otherwise, to her or to anyone else in this building, you can clear out your desk. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
Sebastian’s face went pale. He gave a tight, jerky nod and hurried away.
Luca turned to Isla, his expression softening only slightly.“He’s a snake.”
“I can handle snakes,” Isla said, though her heart was still pounding.
“I know you can,” he replied.“But you shouldn’t have to.” He looked down the empty corridor where Sebastian had disappeared.“Going public… it has consequences. I’ve made you a target.”
“You’ve also given me you,” she said, meeting his gaze.“I’ll take the trade.”
But as they walked back to the bullpen, Isla felt a new weight on her shoulders. The battle for the beauty supplement was won, but Sebastian’s enmity was now a declared war. And in aworld built on perception, she knew a rival’s eye could be more dangerous than any failed photoshoot.
Chapter 9:
The Leak
The victory of the beauty box proposal was short-lived. The high of Anya Sharma’s approval had barely faded when the first email arrived. It was from a anonymous, encrypted address, sent to the entire Chroma staff.
The subject line was: A Question of Merit.
Attached were screenshots. Dozens of them. Private, late-night email exchanges between Isla and Luca’s work accounts. They were mostly professional—brainstorming sessions, drafts of copy, layout adjustments. But the anonymous sender had carefully curated and highlighted them.
Luca: Your layout was better.
Isla: You’re just saying that because you’re in love with me.
Luca: I’m saying it because it’s true. But yes, that too.
Another:
Isla: Sebastian’s proposal is garbage.
Luca: I know. We’ll kill it in the meeting. Your idea is brilliant.
The most damning one was a simple exchange from the night of the Felix de Winter show:
Luca: Where are you?
Isla: Rooftop. Needed air after the chaos.
Luca: Stay there. I’m coming.
The narrative was devastatingly clear: Isla Reid’s rapid rise was not due to talent, but to pillow talk. Her ideas were being greenlit not on their merit, but because she was sleeping with the boss.The private, vulnerable man she’d fallen for was being used to paint her as an opportunistic climber.
The office, which had been buzzing with gossip, fell into a stunned, judgmental silence. Isla sat at her desk, her face burning, feeling the weight of a hundred eyes. She saw the looks—the pity, the scorn, the smug satisfaction on Sebastian’s face as he pretended to look concerned.
Luca’s office door flew open. His face was a thundercloud.“Everyone, back to work,” he commanded, his voice cutting through the tension. He didn’t even look at Isla.“Isla. My office. Now.”
It was the tone of a CEO, not a lover. She stood on shaky legs and walked into his office, the glass walls feeling more like a cage than ever before.
The moment the door clicked shut, his demeanor changed. The public mask of anger fell away, replaced by a frantic concern.“Are you okay?”
“No,” she whispered, her voice trembling.“Luca, they think… everyone thinks…”
