Chapter 5 - THE BREAKING POINT AT THE OFFICE
By the end of the week, the pressure cooker of the office reached its absolute limit. I had been working eighteen-hour days managing gala logistics, restructuring logistics manifests, and fielding frantic calls from international donors. It was past midnight, and the 60th floor was completely deserted except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the tapping of my keyboard. Suddenly, the heavy mahogany door of Enzo’s private office clicked open. He stepped out wearing a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing the dark ink of intricate tattoos shadowing his skin.
He walked straight to my desk, slammed a thick folder down onto the wood, and looked down at me with an expression of fierce, unrestrained exasperation. "You were supposed to be home three hours ago, Elena," he commanded, using my first name with an effortless intimacy that made my pulse spike. "I have to finish the seating chart for the Italian delegation," I retorted, exhaustion stripping away my professional filter. "If I leave now, the whole event falls apart tomorrow." In one fluid motion, Enzo reached across the desk, closed my laptop screen with a definitive snap, and leaned over me so close I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. "Let it fall apart," he growled softly, his steel-gray eyes searching my face with intense focus. "I pay you to manage my empire, Elena, not to kill yourself running a charity party. Go home, or I will carry you out myself." There was no doubt in my mind that he meant it. Defeated and utterly overwhelmed, I grabbed my coat and let him escort me down to the waiting car, realizing he was slowly dismantling every defensive wall I had built around my heart.
