23. Graham

"Fire every single last one of them. Now!" I growl into my phone pacing the length of my office.

An hour ago, a press statement was released that our company would be launching a new product that would change the face of modern technology as we know it. We have no such product in development, but apparently, our company's servers were hacked by one of our major competitors to undermine us. That shouldn't be possible. Our firewalls are impenetrable. Or at least I thought they were.

But someone in the IT department slipped up. They missed a vulnerability in our firewall and were able to slip through our systems, sending out the fake statement from our own servers. It's a fucking disaster.

Taylor rushes into my office just as I settle in front of my laptop. It's 7 p.m. She got off work two hours ago and I'm surprised she came back.

"Hey," I murmur, powering on my laptop.

"I saw the press statement. How are we going to take care of damage control?"

"PR is already working on a counter statement. But it's fucking embarrassing that we were hacked like that. I'm sure it'll have adverse effects on our sales," I say angrily.

The computer comes on and I reach for the side of my table, grabbing my glasses. Taylor stops short at the sight of them, her brown eyes resting on my face for a second, but she doesn't comment on it.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Right now, I'm going to try to track down and delete every copy of the press statement. If you could please handle my phone calls in the meantime?" I ask her, gesturing at my phone that's already blowing up. "If it's reporters, tell them the news is fake. If my father calls, tell him I'm already handling it. Don't pick up my personal calls otherwise."

Taylor nods, grabbing the phone and walking out of the office to give me space to work. I spend the next two hours painstakingly tracking down every website the press statement was leaked to, crashing them with a carefully placed virus or two.

Soon enough, I'm satisfied that I've killed any further news on the press statement. It's already out there and I'm sure people will have seen it, but our PR team released a statement urging the public not to believe any news of a product launch. We just launched a catalog of gadgets earlier in the year. Already having something else lined up and ready to go is ludicrous.

I call for Taylor to return into my office with my phone once I'm done. She does, and I don't miss the forced innocent expression on her face.

"Who called?" I ask, accepting the phone.

"A few reporters," she replies.

"And?"

Her cheeks flush. She tosses her brown hair over her shoulder, her expression intentionally blank. "A woman who referred to herself as your girlfriend. I told her you were busy," Taylor states.

My eyebrows rise. I scroll through my call log, finding that Isabella really had called thirty minutes ago.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Taylor? I told you not to answer any personal calls," I say angrily.

She rolls her eyes. "When did you start using glasses?"

"What?" I grit out.

"The glasses. You acted like I drowned your cat when I suggested you start using them. What changed your mind?"

Isabella did. She found out a couple of days ago when she saw me squinting at my phone. I told her why I was hesitant to get prescription glasses and she called me an idiot. She got me an appointment with an ophthalmologist the next day.

"That's none of your concern," I snap.

"It was her, wasn't it? Isabella," Taylor spits. And her anger is so confusing, I'm a little taken aback.

"What the hell is going on with you?"

Taylor's brows furrow, her expression growing even more charged. "Do you even know why I'm here, Graham? Why I started working for you? Why I followed you to New York?"

"No. I'll admit I was curious but I didn't give a fuck enough to ask."

"You're such an asshole. I'm here because of your father," she announces.

I lean back in my chair and take a deep steadying breath. "Explain," I prompt.

"When my father found out that your brother was stepping down and that you were set to inherit the company, he decided he wanted our families to be in-laws. He knew I used to have a stupid crush on you years ago so he thought it would be perfect. He talked to your father about it and your father agreed that a match between us would be ideal," Taylor informs me.

My jaw is clenched so tight, I'm worried it'll break.

"Your father knew you'd fight it if he suggested we get married outright, so they concocted a plan whereby I took a position as your secretary. I was supposed to try to seduce you," she says, looking a little embarrassed. "But you were so cold. It only took me a couple of weeks to realize you had no interest. And it was so frustrating. I tried to quit, but your father wouldn't let me. He told me to keep trying."

"I see," I say when she finishes.

Taylor falters. "That's it? ‘You see'?"

"Yes. I'm sorry they put you in this stupid situation but, this is never going to happen. I'm sure you'll find a great guy but I'm not him. And despite what any of them say, you have my permission to quit. Actually, you can tell them I fired you if it makes it better." My voice is measured, tension coiling within its depth. She stares at me confused for a beat. "Also, if you ever talk to Isabella again without my permission again, you'll regret it."

Her eyes well up with tears and I look away. She leaves a second later, slamming my office door behind her. Once she's gone, I take a few minutes to calm myself down.

I would say I'm surprised that my father would pull this shit, but I'm really not. It's exactly the kind of thing he would do. My jaw is still a little clenched when I call Isabella to explain.

She picks up on the second ring,

"Hey."

"So, your secretary is answering your personal phone now?" Isabella questions, her tone possessive.

My lips twitch as I fight back a smile. "What did she say?"

"I asked where you were and she claimed you were busy. When I asked who she was, she told me it was none of my concern," Isabella scoffs. "She made it sound like you had just finished screwing her and had only stepped out for a second to take care of something."

"You didn't believe her?" I ask.

"You wouldn't cheat on me, Graham. And if you did, I'd cut your balls off," Isabella states confidently.

And fuck if that doesn't make her infinitely sexier. She knows I'm hers, completely.

"Well yes, it was my secretary, her name's Taylor," I inform her.

"And why was Taylor acting like a jealous girlfriend?"

I groan softly, "It's a long story, baby. I'll explain later. Why did you call earlier?"

"I saw that something was going on with your company and I was just checking in to make sure you were good."

My heart warms. "Yeah, I'm good. I took care of it."

"Okay, then. It's getting pretty late. Go home, Graham."

"I will. Also, I'm going to D.C. tomorrow," I inform her.

"When will you be back?"

"Tomorrow," I reply. I don't plan to be there for long. Just one quick conversation with my father.

"You're going to fly there and back in one day?" Isabella asks.

"Yeah. I have this thing called a private jet, darling. Makes traveling so much easier," I drawl.

"I know you have a private jet. That's the problem," she states before going off on a tangent about how the emissions from private jets contribute to climate change.

I listen attentively as she scolds me for exacerbating the problem and there's a smile on my face the entire time. Fuck, I love her.

The knowledge settles deep within me. There's no denying it. And I'll be damned if I let anyone ever keep me away from her.

My father doesn't blink as I stride into his office the next afternoon. Sure, he was informed I was around, and I was only allowed to see him because he gave permission that I could. But still he could at least pretend to be curious about why I'm here.

I take a seat in front of his desk, trying to affect some calmness that I really don't feel. The more I think about what he was trying to pull with Taylor, the angrier I get.

"Well?" he asks, when I continue to be silent. "You're here for a reason, Graham, spit it out."

I clench my fists. "I'm not like you, Father," I begin. He raises an eyebrow at the statement. "I'm not going to sleep with a woman simply because she's my secretary."

He's unfazed by that pronouncement.

"I didn't expect you to sleep with her because of that. I expected you to begin a relationship with her because she's young and beautiful and available. And even better, she comes from a family that building an alliance with would be extremely beneficial to our empire. Not a family that could only endanger it," he states, leveling me with a cold, hard look.

I glare at him. "You know about Isabella." It's not a question.

My father scoffs before withdrawing an envelope. He starts to pull out several pictures, placing them on the desk between us. My jaw tightens as I stare at Isabella and me at different moments. The two of us on a date at a restaurant, me seeing her off the next morning after she spends the night at my place. Several shots of us during our happiest moments.

"You had me followed?' I growl.

"I had you watched. Because I couldn't trust you to make good decisions in New York. You couldn't even try to hide your relationship with this girl. Do you understand how hard it was for me to prevent it from leaking to the press?"

"It can leak, I don't care," I state.

My father slams his hand on the table. "Be careful about what you say, Graham. You're already on thin ice. The woman is in the mafia! Do you not understand the implications of that?! First, your brother pulls this shit, and now you? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I'm momentarily taken aback by his use of the word "fuck." Only momentarily, though.

"We can choose our families. And let's be honest, I'm in an infinitely better position than Xander was in. Isabella's not a member of the outfit. We can't choose the families we're born into."

"Do you really think that matters? As long as she has the last name Russo, people will make assumptions of her and cast judgment on her. How do you think the board will react to you dating a woman like that?"

"I don't care," I say stubbornly.

"Don't be stupid, Graham. You can still turn this around. I had no choice but to accept your brother's wife because he already had a child with her. You've known this woman for a few months. It's not too late. End your relationship. As soon as possible."

My jaw grinds. "I'm not going to do that, Father."

"Why not?"

"Because I love her," I answer easily. "Isabella's not going anywhere because I'm in love with her."

His eyes flicker with rage. "If you go down this route, you'll lose everything, Graham," he threatens. "You worked so hard this past year and you're going to throw it all away for a woman. If you insist on continuing this relationship, I'll have no choice but to fire you from your position as vice president."

I knew it was coming, but my stomach still hollows out at the pronouncement nonetheless.

"She's worth it," I say fiercely, getting to my feet.

The ground beneath me feels a little unsteady as I walk out of his office. I'm turning my back on one of the most important things in my life. But I take comfort in the knowledge that I'm doing it for her.

Before leaving the building, I stop at Mikayla's office. My sister is more than a little surprised to see me. Her surprise turns to shock when I tell her what's going on.

"Inheriting the company's your dream, Gray," she murmurs, and I can see the fear in her expression.

Guilt presses into my stomach. I was supposed to be her ticket out of here.

"Isabella's my dream now," I say softly.

My sister shuts her eyes, rubbing her forehead. "That was so disgustingly sappy, Graham," she says, making a face.

I smile. "But you get it, right? You understand why I'm doing this?"

"Yeah, yeah. Both my brothers are ditching me because they've found the loves of their lives. Thanks a lot," she states before sighing. "I'm happy for you, though. You deserve this. I can't wait to meet her."

"Thanks, Kay."

I return to New York, feeling a little uneasy but knowing that ultimately, I made the right choice. Isabella's at the penthouse when I get home. She and my mom are hanging out in the living room. But she stands up and gives me a hug as soon as I arrive.

"Hey," she says softly, running a hand through my hair. "Are you okay?'

"Yeah, fine," I assure her.

My eyes meet my mom's and I can tell she knows what's going on. Maybe my dad already called. I shake my head to prevent her from asking in front of Isabella. I'll tell her when I'm ready.

"Not that I mind, but what are you doing here, baby?" I ask, threading my hand through her brown hair.

She sighs before muttering something about annoying cousins under her breath. "Enzo asked me to invite you over for lunch tomorrow."

My eyebrows rise. "Really?"

"Yeah. He has apparently lost all patience and would like to meet my boyfriend. It's so annoying when he tries to act like my father."

She might not say it, but I get the feeling she secretly likes it. Also, she's one to talk considering she mothers every single person she meets.

"Can you make time for lunch tomorrow?" she asks.

Well, I'm about to be out of a job so it shouldn't be too hard. I don't say that, though.

"Of course, Sunshine. Lunch with your family sounds like the perfect way to spend an afternoon."

Her eyes narrow. "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

I chuckle. "I'm not. I'd actually like to meet your cousin. And see where you live. Maybe you'll show me your bedroom when I'm there and we can get down and dirty between the sheets." I lower my voice on the last part so my mother doesn't hear.

Isabella smirks. "Maybe," she agrees.

I grin, pulling her into my arms. I look at my mother with a small smile. "We're going to head upstairs, Mom. I'm pretty tired."

She offers us a small wave. "You kids have fun."

I slip my hand into Isabella's, leading her up the stairs. I kiss her as soon as we're in my bedroom, needing to be inside of her more than anything else.

We practically rip each other's clothes off and then I'm sliding inside of her. I'm a little rougher than usual, but judging by Isabella's moans, she doesn't mind. I finish her off in record time before groaning softly as I come inside of her.

Breathing heavily, I lay beside her. Isabella stares at me for a long moment. Her hand reaches up to brush some strands of my hair from my face.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she questions, her voice soft.

"I'm fine, baby," I reply before pulling her closer, toward my chest.

We fall asleep like that, with me holding on to her. I'm more than a little worried about what she'll say when she finds out what's going on with my father.

The next day, we're getting dressed for lunch together. I'm knotting my tie when Isabella steps forward to help me out with it. Her eyes are narrowed in a glare that has me arching an eyebrow.

"What's up?"

"What happened when you went to D.C.? And if you say nothing and tell me you're okay one more time, I'll choke you with this tie," she threatens.

I stare at her. "Anyone ever tell you violence is never the answer?"

"Once or twice," she confirms.

"You're lucky I find it hot," I say with a grin, trying to distract her.

She's unfortunately not so easily distracted. Her hands tighten around the tie, and choking me slightly in the process.

"Alright, fine. I'll tell you," I state and she releases me immediately, blue eyes curious. "I went to talk to my father. He found out about us."

Her eyes widen. "What did he say?"

"We have lunch with your family in an hour, Isabella. I'll tell you after." She looks like she's about to protest, but I shake my head. "Come on, baby. Just give me this. It doesn't even really matter. I'll tell you later, okay?"

"Fine," she grits out before starting to work on my tie.

I stay still as she knots it, my eyes making a slow descent over her face. I take in the curve of her mouth and the tiny beauty mark on the side of it. By now, I know every single inch of her body.

I also know that every single inch is mine. And I'll do whatever it takes to protect what's mine.