CHAPTER 5

She slows to a jog, and the image fades; the virtual reality program signals to the treadmill that the workout pre-set is complete. She detaches the VR headset from her face, turns off the clip-on fan, and hops down from the machine, grabbing her towel to dab at her sweat-soaked face as she looks out the view from the enormous windows in the residence’s gym.

It's the same view she had during her run, but she enjoys it much more from the inside than she does from the outside. That's why she uses the VR workouts instead of running through the forest in the mountains-it's just too damn cold out there for her taste, and she prefers the warmth of the indoors, thank you very much.

She's a Lima, Peru girl at heart, and she'd take the coast and hot days over the snow and cold temperatures any day of the week. But family is important to her, which is why she moved to Ridgeview Tower after her parents passed away. So she could be with her aunt, her mom's sister, instead of alone and without any family in the firm she grew up in.

The other members here find it strange she seldom runs outside with them; most of them do at least a run out there once a week. She is okay in the spring and summer or early fall. This is only her second winter living here, though, and with the Davenport Group offices being at a higher elevation than any other major corporation in the area, her ass is always frozen during the snowy months.

And her toes.

“Time?”

Isabella looks to the treadmill to check the timer. "Fifty minutes," she says to her best friend Maya as she crosses the room. "You?"

The crisp air outdoors has painted her pale cheeks pink, clear evidence of her morning run. Maya never shies from running in the forest. Isabella thinks she'd run out there in a blizzard if CEO Lucas let her. The white stripe in her otherwise black hair comes loose from her ponytail, falling into her dark gray eyes. She crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the window, smiling.

"Forty-nine minutes and one second," she says.

Isabella sighs, rolling her eyes, but walks to the whiteboard and adds a tally mark under her name. “We’re tied now.”

Maya unfolds her arms and stands up straight. “What? No way. I should be in the lead,” she exclaims as she walks to the board.

Isabella chuckles and shakes her head. Not that it matters. There is no prize, no end goal. It’s all for fun, a game she and Maya have played for the last six years, both of them challenging and pushing the other to be better, to show those who thought they couldn’t do it that they’re wrong.

“The board never lies, Shrimpy,” says Isabella.

Maya's sharp elbow jabs her in the gut, and Isabella grunts, knocked to the side by her hit. Her strength still surprises her since she's so much smaller than most women. But then again, her drive is huge, which is part of why she's so strong.

“Goddamn it,” Maya grumbles after counting up the tallies and finding that Isabella’s right.

Isabella smiles and reaches into the always fully-stocked snack bar of the gym for a bottle of water, opens it, and takes a swig as the doors open once again and CEO Lucas Davenport and COO Noah Vickers saunter in, their massive forms and commanding auras crowding the large room.

“Shrimp,” Noah says, winking a brown eye at Maya.

“Troll,” she shoots back, flipping him off, and he laughs, returning the gesture.

Lucas walks directly to Isabella, his eyes staying on her with every step. She sips her water until he reaches her, avoiding his gaze for as long as possible.

"What can I do for you, CEO Lucas?" she asks, setting the lid back onto her now-empty water bottle and tossing it into the recycling, looking at him once she's finished.

"I wanted to talk," he says, crossing his arms and stopping a foot away.

“About what?”

“You know what, Isabella?” he says.

“Want me to punch him?” Maya sends through a quiet message.

“Won’t help,” Isabella says. “Plus, you shouldn’t punch the CEO.”

Maya shrugs. “Hasn’t stopped me before.”

Isabella's lips twitch. "Sparring doesn't count."

“Doesn’t it, though?”

“Isabella.” Lucas sighs, rubbing his face. “Please?”

She shakes her head but moves a few steps from Noah and Maya, and he follows. Verbal shots are taken at the other by both of them, but Isabella blocks them out and focuses on Lucas.

“Isa, I—”

“I’m going to stop you right there, CEO,” Isabella says, holding her palm out to cut him off.

“But sweet—”

"It's Isabella," she reminds him, crossing her arms, her voice firm. "Not 'Isa.' Not 'sweetheart.' Just Isabella."

He blows out a breath but nods. "Right. Sorry. I just-habits die hard, I guess," he mutters, ruffling his sandy brown hair.

He’s typically put together, confident, but the last few times they’ve spoken he’s been a mess—barely stringing words together and unsure of his actions, his hair roughed up and his normally neat beard longer and untrimmed. There is no one to blame but himself, though. He shouldn’t have expected anything other than this outcome.

He places his hands on his hips and lets his chin drop to his chest.

Isabella sighs. “Did you actually need to discuss something with me, or was that an excuse to get me alone? Because, I swear, Lucas, I am not that—”

“I need a date for COO Adrian's wedding,” he rushes out.

Isabella lets out a harsh laugh, shaking her head as she presses her fingertips into her forehead. “You have an entire company of willing women. Ask one of them.”

She spins on her heels and struts away, but he catches her wrist, halting her. She whips around, glaring at his hand on her arm, nostrils flaring. He lets her go with the speed of one struck by lightning, but her guard is up. He's not one to get physical, but he's been more volatile recently.

“I don’t want to take any of them,” he says. “You’re the only one I want to take.”

“You only want to take me?” she asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes.”