Page 74 of Hate to Love You

It reminds me of when your doctor writes you a prescription, but you can’t read it because it’s nearly a different language, made up of symbols and swirls.

How does anyone read this?

I glance back up at the beast of a man still towering over me, having not moved an inch.

Usually, I would move away from anyone standing this close to me.

But the fact that I’m completely at his mercy, and yet still have no desire to move, confuses me.

“Erm, Roman?” I say softly, clearing my throat.

“Hmm…”

“I can’t read this. How does anyone read this?” I huff.

“Well, my previous assistant managed.” He states sarcastically.

“And, um, where are they now?” I smirk, batting my lashes and raising my brows at him. “Because if they were so good, where did they go?”

A wicked grin skates across his face, one that I notice does not meet his eyes.

“Betray me and find out.” He snaps, pushing off the desk and walking backwards away from me. The air around us cackles with electricity.

Roman turns, gliding into his office and closing the door behind him quietly.

Okay buddy…way to be cryptic and ominous.

Betray me and find out? What the hell does that even mean?

I stare at my screen, before glancing over my shoulder at Roman’s closed office door.

Who is Jaxon Pace? And why would Roman take his call, especially after saying no personal calls?

Quickly, I open a tab on the browser, and type in his name, hundreds, if not thousands, of results stare back at me.

Jaxon Pace in Times Magazine being one of them.

“Setting the Pace—Billionaire Jaxon Pace, 34, leads the way on new Eco-Friendly hotels by 2030.”

“Hearts Break in Chicago! Most Mysterious Bachelor Marries in intimate ceremony!”

“From Playboy to Philanthropist-Mr. & Mrs. Pace restore and expand St. Stephen’s Outreach Program with Addition of Ismena-Eliza Minute Clinic!”

Suddenly, I hear the elevator ding, quickly I close out of the search results, fumbling to get the system back up as Oleg rounds the corner, wringing his hands together, almost… nervously?

“Hey, you’re the new assistant, right?” he asks, without looking at me, staring at Roman’s office door like he’s waiting for it to reveal why he’s here.

“Yep, that’s me.”

Finally, he looks at me, his eyes scanning my face.

“Hang on, I know you right?” He says, clicking his fingers together.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I swear I do,” he pauses, as his eyes squint, “a face like yours isn’t easily forgotten.”

Realization floods his features.