Chapter 7 Chapter 7

The receptionist, interpreting his silence as disapproval, continued with even more confidence:

“See? Do you see how it is? Two hours there, standing still. Some people have no idea where they belong.”

Bratt didn't respond. He watched Caroline for a few seconds—her calm but tense expression, the silent determination in her eyes—before picking up his cell phone and stepping away a few paces.

“President Wolf,” he said in a restrained voice, “Miss Ford is here in the office. She asked to see you.”

On the other end, silence.

Nicholas Wolf answered in his usual cold, deep voice:

“Miss Ford, who?”

Bratt hesitated for a moment.

“Caroline Ford.”

This time, there was a noticeable pause.

On the other end of the line, the sound of heavy breathing broke the silence.

“...Her?” Nicholas asked in a low voice.

“Yes, President. She's been here for over two hours, waiting.”

Another silence. Long, dense, until Nicholas' voice came through, short and imperious:

“Bring her up.”

“Yes, President.”

Bratt hung up and turned to Caroline. He approached her with a cordial smile and a respectful posture.

“Miss Ford?”

Caroline looked up, surprised. The man in front of her was tall, elegant, wearing an impeccable suit and with a kind expression.

“Are you...?”

“I'm Bratt Malike, President Wolf's assistant,” he said calmly. “I hear you're looking for the President?”

Caroline stood up quickly, her heart racing. “Yes... yes, I'm looking for President Wolf. I need to talk to him about something urgent.” She paused briefly, her voice almost failing. “If I could just have ten... no, five minutes. I won't take up too much of his time.”

Her gaze was a silent plea. There was no arrogance, only hope and fear of rejection.

Bratt smiled kindly.

“Don't worry, Miss Ford. President Wolf has agreed to see you.”

Her eyes widened slightly, surprise and relief mingling.

“He... he'll see me?”

“Yes.” Bratt bowed his head slightly, indicating the way. “Please come with me.”

As the two entered the elevator, the angry whispering of the receptionists echoed in the distance:

“I can't believe it... so she really did it?

”Hmph, she must have been lucky. It won't last."

Caroline didn't look back.

Her heart was racing, a mixture of anxiety and fear.

President's Office.

“President Wolf, here is the information about the woman who was in your room last night.” The assistant, Bratt Malike, placed a folder on the desk and took a step back, maintaining an impeccably respectful posture.

The man behind the desk sat silently. He wore a black shirt with buttons at the cuffs and two more open at the chest, revealing part of his firm, sculpted torso.

As he leafed through the documents, the contrast between the sobriety of the suit and the casual touch of the open shirt made his presence even more imposing. Even with his head bowed, his face was cold and precise in its beauty—his nose straight, his lips firm, and his expression impassive.

His long, naturally curved eyelashes cast shadows over his dark eyes, as deep as the silence in the room itself.

Bratt watched him discreetly and, even though he was a man, he couldn't help but swallow hard. Sometimes even he was surprised by how impeccable and intimidating his boss could be.

A moment later, Nicholas looked up. The coldness on his face was absolute.

“Brother, were you looking for me?”

The office door opened before he had even finished speaking, and a man hurried in.

He wore a pink shirt and his hair was styled in neat dreadlocks. A shiny earring glinted in his left ear. His handsome face showed a touch of panic, like someone who had already expected the worst.

As soon as he saw Nicholas, he stopped immediately, a few feet away from him, and kept his hands clasped in front of his body, like a student before a teacher.

“Brother, I'm wrong!” he said, almost pleading. “I shouldn't have done what I did yesterday! You can scold me, you can even hit me, but please... don't send me back to the Old Man!”

Nicholas looked up slowly. A cold smile curved his lips.

“How dare you, Hiago.” His voice was low and sharp. “I would be very generous if I only scolded you or hit you. It wouldn't be enough, even if you died a hundred times.”

Hiago turned pale. Despair took over his face. “I've learned my lesson, I swear!” he exclaimed, then threw himself to his knees, grabbing his brother's legs. “Brother, please! I won't dare do it again! Forgive me just this once!” Tears were already streaming down his face. “And... and besides, you didn't lose your virginity last night...”

Nicholas Wolf looked at his brother with disdain and kicked him aside.

“You'd better explain everything that happened last night. Otherwise, I'll make sure you don't walk out of here.”

Hiago Roque froze. Fear took over his face, and the tears began to flow again. Still, between sobs and sniffles, he began to tell everything.

When he finished, he quickly wiped his face and looked at Nicholas with a pitiful expression.

“Brother... since the beautiful girl had a car accident on the way, let me off this time, okay? I swear I'll never do anything like this again.”

Nicholas's gaze hardened. A strange emotion passed through his eyes—cold, yet unstable.

“What did you say?” His voice was deep, but it carried something else. “She was in an accident?”

“Yes, yes!” Hiago confirmed quickly, as if trying to save himself. “She's still lying in the hospital, I swear!”

Nicholas kept his expression calm, but his mind was spinning silently.

Hiago wouldn't dare lie about something like that.

If the woman they had arranged for him had really been in an accident before arriving...

Then who, after all, was the woman who spent the night with him?

The thought made him lean back slightly, his gaze distant, his hands clenching the arm of the chair.

Hiago, seeing his brother's somber look, began to tremble again.

“Brother, I've told you everything! I swear, every word is true! I didn't lie about anything, I...”

Nicholas stared at him for a moment, then, with a sharp gesture, kicked him again.

“Get out of my way.”

“O-okay, okay, brother!” Hiago got up quickly, almost stumbling, and hurried out. “I'm going! Right now!”

In seconds, he was gone.

The elevator went straight up to the 37th floor.

Outside the presidential office, Bratt Malike knocked on the door.

Inside, a deep, cold voice answered, full of magnetism and authority—the kind of voice that made your heart sink even before you saw the face.

“Come in.”

Caroline Ford, standing at the door, felt her legs waver for a moment. That voice alone was enough to make her nervous.

She took a deep breath and followed Bratt Malike across the large office.