The Con Artist

Carlos' POV

I was mad. Raving mad.

How dare she?

I slammed the phone against its cradle, the sound echoing through the room like a gunshot, and stormed out of the office.

She flinched when she saw me. Irene Peters..

I knew she was fiery when I saw her. It was always easy to identify them.

But right now, whatever fire she had shown at Elysian Court had vanished, and she was back to the cowardly lady who had begged for a job.

I tightened my lips and closed the distance between us. She stood up as I neared her.

"I can explain," she offered.

I stopped. "Begin."

I saw her fidgeting with her fingers and searching for the right words.

"The lady treated me like trash just because I was dressed in faded jeans. I didn't mean to tear the dress. I stepped on it accidentally as she tried to pick it from the floor."

I could tell that she was lying.

She was perfect.

Perfect for me.

Irene Peters could keep a straight face and lie. She was a performer.

"I know I shouldn't have -"

I raised my hand, stopping her mid sentence. Then I stepped closer, close enough to catch the faint floral notes of her cheap cologne. It was maddening, how it drew me in, made me want to lean closer, and smell her every time.

"I told you to get ten free dresses," I started. "Where are they?"

She was visibly shaking. The way her eyes danced whenever I was up close to her was amusing. Whoever she was, she was an enigma.

And she had caught my attention in a way few ever did.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I caused a scene, and they threw me out."

"Threw you out?" My voice sharpened, anger flaring anew. "Did they know I was your sponsor?"

She nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor.

I grabbed her wrist and she let out a gasp in the quiet. "How could you? How could you let them ridicule you? A ridicule to you is like a ridicule to me. How could you let that happen?"

Her eyes danced with fear, and I relished it. Fear was power, and I wielded it like a blade. I tugged her toward the exit, her steps stumbling behind me.

She sat like a cornered animal in the limo, barely breathing. When the vehicle started, I placed a hand on her thigh.

She flinched.

My plan had been to calm her down but I had succeeded in frightening her more.

I took my hand off her body and reached for a flute, pouring chilled champagne, with deliberate calm and expertise, into it. I stretched the full cup towards her.

"For you."

She stared at the flute with a longing her eyes couldn't hide. But she shook her head.

"I couldn't."

"I insist."

She accepted the cup, her fingers brushing mine, took a sip, and dropped it while I watched her, a smile forming from the corner of my mouth. Then she set the flute down too quickly, as if afraid to indulge.

"Who do you think I'm angry at?" I asked her, leaning back. "You or the sales manager?"

She croaked her reply. "Me."

I folded my arms. "Why?"

"I made a mess of your reputation."

I straightened, now serious. "She made a mess of my reputation," I corrected.

The limo came to a stop outside Elysian Court and I stepped out, holding the door for her. But she took the other door, avoiding me. When she rounded the car, I grabbed her arm and pulled her close.

"Never leave me hanging when I open a door for you. Understood?"

She nodded frighteningly and I released her wrist with a shove. The last thing she wanted was to get me mad. I was already livid enough to shut Elysian Court for good.

No one had the audacity to challenge me.

The moment I stepped into the corridors of Elysian Court, whispers flew around and feet scurried away like roaches under a spotlight. My security details fanned behind me and stopped right in front of the entrance.

Irene was walking behind me, back to her frightened state.

Maybe it was better that way. My attempt to ease her in the limo had been a mistake. She had mistaken it for weakness.

The double doors of the building parted automatically and I stepped in and the store manager appeared, her face paling at my sight.

"M-Mr. Alvarez," the store manager stuttered.

I was in no mood to talk. One raise of my hand and one of my men appeared.

"A disrespect to my staff is a disrespect to me," I said, blowing hot. "This will be your last day as manager of this store. I need you to submit your resignation letter before the end of today to your boss."

She nodded without hesitation. My handyman appeared beside her.

"He'll escort you out...after you've rendered your last service. " I turned to face Irene, who was hiding a smirk. "...to my personal assistant."

"Right away, ma'am," she said, genuflecting, while I nested on one of the couches.

Irene vanished with the trembling woman and I focused on the bottle of Merlot sitting beside me. It was taking forever but when Irene stepped out in one of the dresses she had picked, she took my breath away. For a few seconds, all I did was gawk, flute midway towards my mouth.

It was more than the dress. It was the confidence she carried, the spark in her eyes. The defiance. The one I had sensed earlier, now blazing openly, with every step she took towards me. She had completely transformed from a drab nobody to someone who could capture my attention.

And she was still on that unconditioned hair.

I set my flute down and stood up, completely drawn by her presence. Now I saw her eyes, saw the sparks they carried, and even saw the defiance.

"You look...ravishing," I said.

She bowed meekly, her voice soft. "Thank you, Mr. Alvarez."

"Carlos," I responded without hesitation.

No woman had unraveled me like this in years. What was it about her? She was beneath my world, a nobody in faded jeans, yet she held my attention like a hypnotist.

"Carlos," she repeated, half smiling. "It seems you like this," she continued. "Then you'll like the rest I've bought."

Certainly. It looked like she had a good taste but was too poor to afford them.

"Leave this on," I told her, glancing at the time strapped to my wrist. "We have to go now."

I was expecting some shipment and I had to prepare for their arrival.

She nodded and walked to my side. I caught the reflection of the two of us, standing beside each other, from a show glass, her elegance matching my power.

We were like a match made in heaven.

Only that men like me didn't have soulmates. We didn't have a heart. Only control.

So I took my eyes off the reflection and started towards the exit. When we got to the car, she asked. "When will I be returning home today?"

A frown appeared on my face before I spoke. "Never. You'll live with me now."