Chapter 5

The sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains in my room, filling the space with a warm, golden glow and pulling me from the restless sleep I barely managed to get the night before.

It was a stark contrast to the room itself, which was cloaked in shades of black and dark tones. A raised platform held my king-sized bed at the center, dominating the room. In one corner, my walk-in closet stood like a hidden sanctuary, while in the opposite corner, trophies; each a reminder of my success as the best chef, lined the shelves. The room wasn't fully decorated, but it didn't need to be. It was a perfect reflection of me, of my life, unfinished, yet unmistakably mine.

The alarm blares, signaling that it's 8 a.m. and it's time to wake up. Not that I need reminding. I've been awake for a while now.

I push the covers off and swing my legs over the side of the bed, stretching my back as I glance toward the window. Still shirtless and wearing nothing but black shorts, I make my way to the kitchen. The perks of owning a chain of restaurants? I can come and go as I please, no questions asked.

Opening the glass cabinet, I hunt for a protein shake, knowing I'll need the energy for the gym.

After quickly mixing the shake and downing it, I step out of my penthouse and head towards the gym on the ground floor of the building. I need to blow off some steam, clear my head before the day fully begins. Time to push the world and myself away for a while.

After a quick shower, I get dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants, freshening up with a spritz of cologne. My brown hair is still damp from the shower, but I don't mind. I slip on my rings, my watch, and my glasses before grabbing my coat. One last glance in the mirror to make sure I don't look like I've just rolled out of bed, and then I head out the door.

I make my way to my Mercedes, get inside, and reverse out of the parking spot.

Today's a big day, I'm meeting with the owner of a prominent banquet hall in England. It's a prime location for my next restaurant branch, and after they reached out to sell, it just so happens that I was already eyeing the place. Their luck, really, I'm more than willing to take it off their hands.

Time to close another deal and expand my empire.

With that thought in mind, I pull into the parking lot and make my way towards the coffee shop they had picked for the meeting.

Rolling up my sleeves as I enter, I immediately scan the place. The moment my eyes take in the shabby décor and the mismatched tables, I cringe internally.

Seriously, they chose this place to meet? I can already feel the urge to turn around and go home.

"Sir, you're blocking the line," a voice calls from behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts. Without looking back, I step forward and head towards a vacant table, irritation simmering beneath the surface.

For a moment, my mind drifts back to last night at my restaurant. I shake my head, trying to clear the image from my thoughts. But despite myself, a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I think about her. She really is a doll.

Iliana lopez, her name as pretty as her.

She's still lingering in my mind, and I don't know whether to be annoyed or intrigued.

She was beautiful, no, beautiful doesn't do justice to describe her. She was ethereal, like something out of a dream. I can still picture her in that stunning red dress, the way it clung to her figure, the way she moved. Her light brown eyes were captivating, full of life, while her black, shiny hair was tied up in a messy bun that somehow made her look even more alluring. Sharp collarbones, a button nose, and those red lips; they looked like cherries, so tempting I could almost taste them. And her legs, long and toned, her thighs holding a lot of my attention.

But it wasn't just her looks. No, she had quite the mouth on her, too. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind, to challenge me. And that, I found... dare I say adorable.

I shake my head in disbelief. Adorable? What is wrong with me? Since when do I use words like that? It's like my brain is betraying me, turning into some soft, sentimental version of myself I don't even recognize. I'm not the type to go around calling anyone "adorable." What the hell is going on?

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by an irritating voice. "Mr. King, so nice to meet you."

I give a quick nod, watching as he settles into the seat across from me.

He looks at me with an apologetic expression. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. My cab broke down. I'm Robert Charl."

I don't even bother pretending to care. "It's whatever. Let's just get to the point," I reply, my patience already running thin.

I'm ready to go home and it's 10 am. Enough of socializing for today.

We order our coffees, and the conversation shifts toward the deal at hand.

"So, about the banquet hall," he begins, pulling out a folder with details. "We're looking to sell it, as I mentioned, and we think your restaurant chain is the perfect fit for it."

I lean back, arms crossed, nodding slowly. "I already know what it's worth. What's your asking price?"

He hesitates for a moment, clearly calculating. "We're asking for a decent offer, considering the location and potential for expansion. We're looking for something in the range of five million."

I raise an eyebrow, not impressed. "Five million? That's a bit steep. I've seen better places go for less."

He shifts uncomfortably. "Well, it's more than just the location. It has a history, loyal clientele—"

"Do you think I'm dumb Mr. Charl?" I ask with an emotionless tone.

He looks dumbfounded for a second before he backtracks and shakes his head violently," No sir, I would never underestimate someone of your caliber."

"Then why are bullshitting me? Excuse my language and correct me if I'm wrong." I say as I lean forward my arms on the table "If the place was doing that well, you wouldn't be selling it," I cut in, my tone sharp. "I'll offer you three. Take it or leave it."

He sighs, clearly frustrated, but I can see the wheels turning in his mind. "Three and a half?"

I shake my head, and blow on my black coffee before taking a sip. "Three. Final offer."

He finally nods, though reluctantly. "Alright, three it is. We have a deal."

"Good," I say, standing up and extending my hand. "Let's get the paperwork finalized."

He shakes my hand and goes to say something else but I'm done here.

I don't even wait for him to respond before I turn and head toward the door, already mentally exhausted with the entire meeting.

I reach for the door, ready to leave and put this meeting behind me, but I immediately freeze. That voice, it's impossible to mistake. Smooth, confident, laced with just enough sass to make it unforgettable.

My heart skips a beat as I glance toward the counter. There she is, standing by the barista, her posture relaxed, her lips moving as she speaks. Doll.

The red dress from last night flashes in my mind, the way she carried herself, the way she looked at me like I wasn't as intimidating as everyone else seemed to think.

And now, here she is again, completely unaware that she's just stopped me in my tracks.

Before I can stop myself, my feet are already moving toward her, as if drawn by some invisible force. My mind is screaming at me to think this through, to walk away and avoid whatever chaos this might bring, but it's too late.