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Chapter 2
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Isabella Roosevelt
My heart beats in my chest as I refuse to turn around. I have worked here for five years, and I have never been so unprofessional in front of him, not even for a second. “Ms. Brown,” his deep voice sent shivers down my spine, “I’d like to see you in my office.” I turned around, but he had already vanished. With a resigned sigh, I followed him into his office. He settled into his seat, gesturing for me to take the chair opposite him. “Ms. Brown, do you have a problem with me?” he asked, his gaze probing. I found myself at a loss for words. I couldn't bring myself to lie, yet I was too terrified to speak the truth. I needed this job. My father would be so disappointed if I get fired. Also working for LucasHarrington came with its perks. Not only was the pay generous, but he also provided assistance with student loans and offered regular appraisals. It was no wonder people were willing to endure the chaos of the workplace for the financial security he provided. “I mean… But I love working here,” I replied, my fingers fidgeting nervously. “So is this what happens? I leave and you people bitch about me?” he asked in a monotone, returning to his laptop and resuming work. “No, not always. We gossip about everyone. I read somewhere that it's good for workplace morale. So don’t worry. If people are bashing on you, it's only bringing the team closer. Also, you're not very bad. You're okay,” I rambled, realizing mid-speech that my words might not be as comforting as I intended. He glanced at me, his eyes closing momentarily as if needing a moment to process my nonsense, "Thank you, Ms. Brown," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You can stop trying to make the situation better. Please leave now for your lunch; you need to come back in half an hour." Feeling the need to redeem myself after my earlier remarks, I blurted out, "Oh, and by the way, I defended you when people started spreading rumours about your 'surgically removed smile muscles’ and that being the reason behind why you don’t smile. They also said that you don’t have a heart. But I defended you and said you have one but you don’t like to use it. I mean, sure, you're not exactly the poster child for warmth and sunshine, but you are not that bad. You are okay." But it didn’t help. I cringed inwardly, realizing I really need to start thinking before I speak. “I am not firing you, so please leave,” he said firmly, closing his laptop. “But I-“ "What can I do to end this very heartwarming conversation with the world's worst therapist?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm, leaving my jaw hanging in disbelief. “Okay, so we cool?” But his expression remained stern, sending a shiver down my spine. Without waiting for a response, I awkwardly waved goodbye and fled the office before he could change his mind. As I walked away, my thoughts tangled in a knot of confusion. How could someone so ruthless, so cutting in his words, be the same man who quietly funds scholarships for underprivileged kids? The same man who anonymously donates to families in desperate need? It didn’t make sense. He was an asshole, a tyrant who made my life hell. But there was a part of him, hidden deep beneath that cold exterior, that seemed to care in a way that caught me off guard. My heart twisted with conflicting emotions—how could my mortal enemy, this man who my father told me was the devil, be so nice? The line between hate and something dangerously close to admiration blurred with every step I took away from his office. I shook my head, guilt gnawing at me as I questioned whether my father was wrong. Could he actually be a good person? Was what I’m doing—trying to ruin his life and everything he’s worked for—completely wrong? My father would slap me if he heard my thoughts, but I couldn’t shake the doubt creeping into my mind.Related chapters
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 3
Isabella Roosevelt I felt a pang of guilt for never inviting my office friends over. They’d mentioned it a few times, and I’d always dodged the suggestion with some flimsy excuse. But how could I explain why I lived in the richest neighborhood in the country? The truth was, my father’s wealth wasn’t something I liked to flaunt or was around to flaunt because of the whole ‘spy thing’. He was never around, but I respected him because he always took care of us financially. We weren’t spoiled, but our basic necessities were always met. I let the guilt wash over me, trying to push it away as I poured hot water over the tea leaves, the rich aroma filling my small but elegant kitchen. I was looking forward to curling up on the couch, switching on the television, and losing myself in something mindless for the evening. The quiet solitude was my haven. Here, I didn’t have to pretend or keep up appearances. I could just be… Isabelle Brown, the ordinary assistant who worked long hours an
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 4
Isabella Roosevelt As he reached for the handle, he looked back at me one last time, his eyes cold and devoid of any warmth. “And, Isabelle…” His voice was low, chilling. “Don’t think about running. I’ll find you.” Panic surged through me, and before I could stop myself, I screamed, “Wait!” Lucas paused, his hand still on the door, his expression inscrutable as he turned back to face me. My legs felt like they were going to give out from under me, but I forced myself to stay upright, to confront the reality of my situation. “Please,” I begged, my voice breaking as the tears spilled over once more. “I’m not scared of prison—I’m scared of my father. If he finds out I got caught… he’ll never forgive me. He’ll disown me. He will kill me.” Lucas’s gaze remained steady, unyielding. I could see the wheels turning in his mind, calculating, assessing the worth of my words. I knew I had to convince him, had to make him understand that my fear wasn’t of the cold, hard walls of a prison, bu
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 5
Isabella RooseveltI paced around my apartment nervously, the walls closing in on me as my thoughts spiraled. What was I supposed to do now? My mind raced with the possible outcomes, each more terrifying than the last. I knew my father would kill me—not literally, but his wrath would be enough to make me wish he had. Somehow, despite all of this, my brothers would end up with all the property and inheritance, while I would be left with the weight of the family’s reputation on my shoulders. Life was so unfair.I wanted to call my mother, to hear her soothing voice and maybe get some advice, but I wasn’t brave enough. I was too scared of what she might say—or worse, what she might not say. The thought of her disappointment was enough to freeze the phone in my hand. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I was scared of my family, especially my father. He ruled with an iron fist, and even the thought of his reaction to this disaster made my blood run cold.I glanced at the clock—7:00 AM. Th
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 6
Isabella Roosevelt“I understand,” I said quietly, my voice steady despite the turmoil roiling inside me. The words felt like they were coming from someone else, as if I were watching myself from a distance, detached from the reality of the situation. “I’ll sign the prenup.”Lucas’s expression didn’t change, not even a flicker of emotion on his carefully guarded face, though I thought I saw a faint flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps satisfaction, or maybe just a recognition of my compliance with his demands. He had expected me to resist, to fight back, but my submission seemed to surprise him in some small way. “Good,” he said, his voice flat and businesslike. “We’ll finalize the arrangements by the end of the week.”But beneath that polished exterior, beneath that impenetrable mask he wore so well, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to Lucas than he let on. More than the cold, calculating Harrington heir, the one who had earned a reputation for being ruthless in busin
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 7
Isabella RooseveltI arrived at the Harrington manor at precisely 6 p.m., the air around me thick with anticipation. The sprawling mansion loomed before me, every bit as intimidating as the man I was about to face. As I stepped inside, I found Lucas waiting for me in the living room. He stood by the fireplace, hands casually in his pockets, his presence commanding the space effortlessly. His eyes met mine, and I instinctively sucked in a harsh breath. No words were exchanged, but the air crackled with unspoken tension.Without breaking eye contact, Lucas stepped toward me, his movements slow and deliberate. He placed a hand on the small of my back, the contact searing against my skin, even through the fabric of my dress. The touch sent a jolt through me, and I stiffened, not from fear but from the sudden awareness of his proximity. The warmth of his palm lingered far longer than it should have as he guided me upstairs toward his room, his grip firm and possessive.I could smell his d
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 8
Isabella RooseveltMy eyes drifted to Lucas, searching for some form of reaction, and I caught sight of the satisfied smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.He rolled his eyes, as if my father’s collapse was nothing more than an inconvenience—‘theatrics,’ he seemed to think. The callousness in his expression sent a chill down my spine, but at the same time, something deep inside me stirred. Lucas’s complete lack of sympathy, his ease at brushing off such a dramatic moment, unsettled me. But it also cemented the truth I had always suspected—he was as ruthless as he was calculated."Isn’t this convenient?" Lucas whispered low in my ear, his tone dripping with amusement, the warmth of his breath sending an unwelcome shiver down my back. He didn’t seem the least bit concerned, and as the room erupted into chaos around us, his hand remained firmly at my waist, keeping me tethered to him. His grip was tight, possessive, as if I was already his and the rest of the world had simply yet to
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 9
Isabella RooseveltAs I settled into the room Lucas had assigned me—a temporary arrangement, he’d said—my phone buzzed again. For what felt like the thousandth time, my family was calling. My mother, my brother. Every single one of them, their names flashing across the screen in relentless persistence. It was ironic, really; the four years I spent working undercover, my family barely reached out. Now, they suddenly acknowledged my existence, as if I’d been gone for decades.I let the phone buzz a few more times before finally putting it aside, sighing in frustration. Pulling out my small suitcase, I reached for my usual work outfit. Simple slacks, a fitted blouse—nothing that would draw attention. After all, that’s what I’d spent years perfecting. Blending in, hiding behind the mask of a modest assistant. But here, in the imposing grandeur of Lucas Harrington’s mansion, it all felt out of place. Everything in this room, dark and cold with shades of black and gray, made it impossible t
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 10
Isabella RooseveltLucas walked into the office with his hand firmly on my lower back, fingers dangerously close to my ass, as we passed through rows of cubicles. Heads turned, and the office buzzed with whispers, murmurs floating through the air.My colleagues—my friends—were staring at us, their expressions ranging from shock to open disdain. Some were stunned, some wide-eyed with disbelief, but most wore thinly veiled scowls, judging me silently. They knew now.They knew I was a Roosevelt.The infamous Roosevelt-Harrington feud was practically legendary, a longstanding battle played out across business columns and news broadcasts.Every week, it seemed, there was a new twist, a fresh angle, or some scandal to exploit. People picked sides like they were rooting for rival sports teams. And, unsurprisingly, most of them chose the Harringtons. My family, wealthy and haughty, didn’t exactly earn much sympathy among the working class. My father’s superiority complex had a way of pushing
Latest chapter
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 29
Lucas HarringtonI woke up to a weight on my chest, the soft sound of snoring filling the otherwise quiet room. Blinking against the faint morning light seeping through the curtains, I glanced down—and froze.Isabella.She was sprawled across me, her cheek pressed to my chest, her lips slightly parted as she breathed deeply in her sleep. One arm was flung over my torso, and her fingers clutched my bicep with surprising strength, like she was afraid I’d disappear.Oh.Wow.Alright.Not the worst way to wake up.I wasn’t exactly a cuddler—far from it. I valued my personal space and avoided situations like this. But this? This wasn’t bad at all. Her warmth seeped into me, her small frame fitting against mine in a way that felt… annoyingly natural.I swallowed, trying to ignore how soft her skin looked or how her hair smelled faintly of vanilla.NO, Lucas.I knew I needed to move her. Lying here like this was dangerous—for my sanity, if nothing else. But as I shifted slightly, her face sc
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 28
Isabella Roosevelt“Can I get my pillow and blanket?” I asked, standing awkwardly at the edge of the bed, my fingers twisting nervously as I avoided looking directly at Lucas. The very idea of sleeping next to him—shirtless him—was enough to make my head spin.How on earth was I supposed to fall asleep with my massive crush lying a few feet away? Lucas glanced up from where he was casually leaning against the headboard, his phone in hand, and raised a brow. “Alright, I’ll get it,” he said, pushing off the bed with an effortless grace that had no right being so attractive. I swallowed hard, my gaze following him as he walked out of the room. His broad, muscular back flexed with each step, his bare shoulders rolling in a way that made it impossible to look away. The man was built like a Greek god, and the low-slung sweat pants hanging off his hips didn’t help matters. I need some holy water. Help me, God.As soon as he left, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I stare
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 27
Isabella RooseveltI stared at the clock on the bedside table: 2:03 a.m. The faint glow of the numbers illuminated the dark room, a constant reminder that I was wide awake while the rest of the world slept. My mind replayed every moment of the client dinner earlier that evening, each detail clawing at me with relentless intensity. I hated it. Hated how much I wanted Lucas, how every glance, every fleeting touch set my skin ablaze. And hated even more the bitter truth that I could never have him. "This might just be Stockholm syndrome," I muttered to myself, trying to make light of the storm swirling inside me. But the humor fell flat. My chest felt tight, my emotions too overwhelming to ignore. I needed to get out of here—out of this house, out of his house. Without allowing myself time to second-guess the impulse, I threw off the covers and grabbed my wallet and phone. My fingers found a soft shawl hanging on the back of a chair, and I draped it over my shoulders, realizing too la
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 27
Isabella Roosevelt We both stood up as an older man entered the restaurant, his steps steady but carrying the weight of experience and authority. He smiled when he saw Lucas—a small, reserved smile—but when his gaze shifted to me, it softened, warming considerably. “Ah, so you’re the one who finally saddled this man,” he said, his tone begrudging but laced with subtle amusement. “Now maybe he can keep his paws off my daughter.” The comment caught me completely off guard. My eyes widened as I glanced at Lucas, but he remained unfazed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t do anything with her,” Lucas said, his tone calm but tinged with mild annoyance. “Yeah, sure,” Mr. Nagasaki replied bitterly, his eyes narrowing. “My daughter came onto you, because you’re such a Casanova.” Lucas exhaled softly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before he quickly replaced it with a more serious expression. “I’m sorry for everything, Mr. Nagasaki,” he said, his voice u
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 26
Isabella RooseveltAfter what felt like the most agonizingly slow drive of my life, we finally pulled up to the fanciest restaurant I could imagine. The glowing lights, valet attendants, and the steady stream of well-dressed patrons all screamed sophistication. Lucas parked the car, his movements as calm and deliberate as ever, and walked around to open my door.I wanted to roll my eyes at the gesture.Now he’s going to be nice? After ignoring me all day, after acting like nothing had happened between us, he was suddenly playing the perfect gentleman? My irritation simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to bubble over.The second he offered his hand to help me out of the car, I ignored it, stepping out on my own and walking briskly ahead. My heels clicked against the pavement, each step fueled by my growing annoyance at the infuriating man behind me."Isabella, we need to—" His voice, deep and steady, stopped mid-sentence, the words trailing off into silence.I slowed my pace
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 25
Isabella RooseveltI hate Lucas. I hate him for the way he’s been ignoring me ever since the kiss. He hasn’t looked at me, hasn’t spoken to me, hasn’t even acknowledged me. The silence is unbearable, gnawing away at me with every passing second.I wish I hadn’t kissed him. I wish I hadn’t drunk so much wine. I wish I didn’t exist at all, just to escape the ache twisting in my chest. Having a crush is exhausting. It’s gut-wrenching, embarrassing, and it makes you feel like an idiot every single second of the day.And worst of all? I don’t even know what I want from him. Do I want him to like me? Yes. Do I want him to make me feel special? Definitely. But what does that even mean? What does “special” even look like coming from someone like Lucas?I sighed, my gaze drifting toward his office door, the very thought of him pulling at something deep inside me. Should I talk to him? Ask him something about the schedule? Anything to break this unbearable tension? I couldn’t tell if my questio
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 24
Isabella Roosevelt“Lucas,” I growled, my voice thick with frustration, anger, and an undeniable, overwhelming need. My gaze bore into his, my eyes heavy with desire.“Okay, you need to stand straight,” he said, his tone a mix of command and restraint, his large, warm hands settling firmly on my waist. His grip was steady, the strength in his hands sending a flutter of anticipation through me as I glanced up at his gorgeous, chiseled face.The moonlight cast shadows along his jawline, highlighting every sharp angle, making his intense gaze even more captivating. I had to press my thighs together just to control the overwhelming need his presence stirred within me.He drew in a sharp breath, his voice taut with tension. “Isabella, you need to—”But I didn’t care to listen. “No. I’ll tell you what I need,” I whispered, the words spilling out as desire overtook me. Grabbing his tie, I pulled him down to my level, pressing my lips to his in a fierce, demanding kiss, silencing any protest
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 23
Isabella RooseveltFor the first time that evening, I finally felt like I was bonding with someone. Nicola had been warm, welcoming, and easy to talk to, a rare presence in a sea of intimidating faces and conversations that felt entirely foreign. With her beside me, I didn’t feel like the odd one out. But, as my luck would have it, she was called away mid-conversation by her husband, Cole.As soon as she left, a sense of isolation washed over me. Everyone else was gathered in tight-knit groups, laughter and murmured words filling the space around me, yet none of them felt welcoming. My anxiety rose, the noise, the lights, the scent of expensive cologne and perfumes—all of it began to close in on me. And without a “conventional” fiancé I could easily tag along with, I was left adrift, wondering if I’d made a mistake by coming at all.In an attempt to calm my nerves, I headed to the in-house bar, tucked in one of Cole’s many lavish rooms. Cole’s home had the unmistakable warmth of someo
In Love With My Enemy Chapter 22
Isabella RooseveltI stood in the corner of the room, taking in the scene before me. I was at the Christmas party, and Lucas’s younger brother, Cole, had decided to go all out this year. Dressed as Santa, complete with a red suit, white beard, and a jolly laugh that could fool anyone, Cole looked every bit the part. The room was filled with children, their excited chatter filling the air as they waited for presents and candy. But it was Lucas, not Cole, who had all my attention.Lucas was holding his niece, Arabella, in his arms, gently bouncing her to soothe her as she clung to him. Her big eyes, a little red from crying, darted between her “Santa” dad, uncle and the crowd of rowdy children around her. ‘Lucas, sensing her discomfort, murmured something softly into her ear, and the little girl’s face slowly relaxed. His hand brushed tenderly over her back, his voice low and comforting, like he had all the time in the world just for her.I watched, spellbound, as he patiently coaxed h
