Chapter 40

"Then, Daniel asked, What about the coffee—"

"Take it away. Just water for me."

"Understood."

At noon, Nathaniel attended a charity luncheon while Isabella ate alone in the corporate cafeteria. Her new colleagues maintained polite professionalism, keeping their distance. Isabella didn't mind the solitude.

She returned to her workstation after lunch. By 5 PM, she approached Dominic. "Mind reviewing this? I've nearly finished."

Dominic blinked. He scanned the files she'd sent, confusion morphing into shock as he processed the content. His jaw slackened.

"You—completed this already?" This workload typically took Sebastian ten days. Yet Isabella had not only deciphered it but perfected the assignment in under twenty-four hours.

Isabella nodded.

Dominic stared, speechless. Her solution wasn't just flawless—she'd conceptualized innovative approaches for his remaining tasks that he'd never considered.

The commotion drew other team members. One by one, they crowded around, their astonishment mirroring Dominic's.

Regaining composure, Dominic studied her. "Why aren't you pursuing a PhD?"

Isabella hesitated. "I never applied."

The irony stung—a room full of Ivy League postgraduates outshone by an undergraduate.

"Financial constraints?"

But her designer handbag and impeccable work contradicted that theory.

Isabella lowered her gaze. "Personal reasons." She offered a small smile. "Perhaps I'll reconsider graduate studies later."

After assisting several colleagues with their projects, Isabella left at 7 PM.

Nathaniel leaned against the lobby wall. "You obliterated their prejudices in one day. Earned their respect too. Not that I'm surprised."

Isabella grinned. "My treat for dinner?"

"Isn't that why I'm waiting?"

They exited together. Twenty minutes later, as they ascended the restaurant staircase, a child barreled toward them.

Isabella sidestepped, losing balance. Nathaniel's arm snapped around her waist, steadying her.

She exhaled, preparing to thank him—then froze. Alexander and Oliver stood ten feet away, watching. Oliver's eyebrows shot up; Alexander's expression darkened.

Isabella pushed Nathaniel away abruptly.

"Twist your ankle?" Nathaniel asked, oblivious to their audience.

"No."

"Good. Let's proceed."

She followed, deliberately avoiding Alexander's gaze.

Oliver whistled. "That was your wife, right?"

Alexander remained silent.

"Playing hard to get while cozying up to Nathaniel? Bold strategy to regain your attention."

Alexander's knuckles whitened around his glass. "Delusional."

"Let's go," Alexander said coldly, turning on his heel.