What is different about her?

Isla woke up early to get ready for work, determined not to delay Jaxon by being unprepared.

Once she finished, she sat on her bed for a moment, idly scrolling through her phone. It didn’t take long for boredom to set in, prompting her to get up and stretch her legs. She stepped out of the bedroom and into the living room, deciding to feed her curiosity. 

Her gaze quickly landed on an artistic portrait hanging on the wall. The living room was eerily quiet, as if frozen in time, suggesting that Henry had already left after his shift. Drawn to the painting, she stood before it, captivated by its details.

The portrait was a black-and-white painting of a serene landscape. And for a moment, Isla was lost in the painting when suddenly, Jaxon’s deep, firm voice cut through the silence from behind her.

“You’re ready.”

“Haaa!” Isla yelped, spinning around, her hands flying to her chest as she tried to steady her racing heart. Her wide eyes locked onto Jaxon, and for a second, she froze.

“Mr. Jaxon…” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper as her gaze inadvertently landed on his bare chest. He stood before her, wearing nothing but khaki shorts, a phone in his hand.

“Good morning,” she managed, quickly averting her eyes before he caught her staring.

Jaxon’s voice was calm, yet it carried a teasing edge. “Why are you up so early?” he asked, his flip-flops dragging lazily on the tiled floor as he made his way to the kitchen.

“Ermm… it’s almost 8 a.m., and the office resumes at 8,” Isla replied, stepping away from the portrait and moving to the center of the living room. From there, she could see him clearly as he entered the kitchen.

Her eyes lingered on him, betraying her effort to stay composed. The muscles in his back shifted and flexed as he pulled open the fridge door.  Isla swallowed hard, her gaze trailing the line of his toned arms as he grabbed a bottle of water.

When he tilted his head back to take a drink, the sight of his defined jawline and the subtle bob of his Adam’s apple made her breath hitch. Her lips parted slightly, as if caught in some trance, her thoughts betraying her resolve to look away.

Jaxon, oblivious—or maybe not—wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and set the bottle down, glancing her way with a faint smirk. “Something wrong, Isla?”

“Ermm…” Isla stammered, hastily looking away as heat crept up her face. “Nothing.” She quickly glanced at her wristwatch for distraction. “It’s almost 8 a.m. I should start heading to the office,” she added, turning toward the room where she had left her bag.

“No,” Jaxon’s firm voice stopped her in her tracks. She froze momentarily before turning back to look at him.

“No?” she echoed, her brows furrowing.

Jaxon was already walking out of the kitchen, the bottle of water still in his hand. “We’re going to the office together,” he stated plainly, his tone leaving no room for debate. His eyes shifted toward the stairs as he began to ascend them. “You’re my secretary. If you go early, who are you going to attend to?” he asked, throwing a casual glance over his shoulder.

Isla frowned slightly, conceding his point in silence. He was right—there wasn’t much for her to do at the office without him. Still, she felt mildly irked by his commanding tone, though she knew there was no arguing with Jaxon.

‘I guess I’ll have to ride with him,’ she thought, letting out a quiet sigh as she stepped into the room to grab her tote bag.

Returning to the living room, she hesitated, her curiosity resurfacing. She had been meaning to figure out who Jaxon had purchased the neckpiece for at the auction. Her eyes roamed the room, scanning for any clues—photos, memorabilia, anything that might offer insight into his personal life.

To her disappointment, the space was strikingly impersonal. There were no family portraits, no childhood photos, nothing that hinted at his past. It was as if the room reflected the man himself: composed, enigmatic, and meticulously guarded.

“Why is he so secretive?” she muttered under her breath, her curiosity intensifying. 

Jaxon quickly slipped into his neatly ironed shirt and pants, pausing in front of the mirror to fuss over his hair. Strangely, it was taking him longer than usual.

Out of nowhere, he felt an intense need to look perfect. His mind kept drifting to Isla, though he stubbornly denied she had anything to do with his relentless attempts to nail the perfect hairstyle. After some deliberation, he settled on a slicked-back look—his jet-black hair gleaming under the light.

Grabbing a suit from the many hanging in his closet, he picked up his briefcase and headed out. As he descended the stairs, his eyes instinctively searched the living room. There she was, reclining on the couch, her head resting against the back, eyes closed.

Hearing his approaching footsteps, Isla's eyes fluttered open, and she sat up abruptly. "You're ready," she murmured, standing and slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Jaxon made his way to the door with Isla following behind, closing it quietly after them. They strolled down the porch in silence, broken only by the rhythmic clacking of Isla's kitten heels.

This morning, Jaxon chose a different car—a sleek black Ferrari. He walked to the driver’s side and slid in with ease. When Isla approached the passenger side, the door opened on its own, prompting her eyebrows to arch in surprise.

Without hesitation, she climbed in, the door softly shutting behind her. Hugging her oversized bag close, she watched as Jaxon drove out of the driveway, steering with one hand like he was a Pro. 

As they cruised down the road, Isla kept her gaze fixed on the passing scenery, the heavy silence in the car gnawing at her nerves. She wanted to speak, but starting a conversation with her enigmatic boss seemed daunting.

“Was Henry nice to you?” Jaxon’s voice broke through the quiet, catching her off guard. She turned to face him, surprised but relieved.

A smile spread across her face. “Yes, yes. He’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met,” she said warmly, unsure if her cheerfulness stemmed from him finally speaking or the simple fact that he seemed interested in her day.

“Nice.” He nodded slightly, his eyes never leaving the highway.

Just then, Isla’s phone buzzed, interrupting the moment. She quickly fumbled through her bag and saw Sophie’s name flashing on the screen. Smiling softly, she lowered the volume, hoping to avoid a repeat of the last time Jaxon overheard their chat.

“Hey, girl!” Sophie’s vibrant voice spilled through the speaker, accompanied by the unmistakable noise of a busy street. “How are you? Where are you? Are you at work?”

Isla cast a quick glance at Jaxon from the corner of her eye before responding in a hushed tone. “I’m on my way to work.” Her voice lacked Sophie’s effervescence, a stark contrast to her friend's energy.

“Why are we whispering?” Sophie’s tone dropped, matching Isla’s. “Wait... Are you with Waverly?” she asked, her excitement bubbling through the line.

“Yeah…” Isla muttered, keeping her expression neutral to avoid drawing any suspicion from Jaxon.

“Oh my God!” Sophie squealed, her voice brimming with dramatic glee. “You’re in his car, early in the morning, which means... you were together all night! Oh. My. God!”

Heat rushed to Isla’s face as if she’d been doused in embarrassment. “Yes... okay. Bye!” she said hurriedly, cutting Sophie off mid-squeal and shoving the phone back into her bag.

When she dared to glance at Jaxon again, she found him looking at her this time. His expression was unreadable, but the weight of his gaze made her heart race.

She forced a nervous smile before quickly turning her head toward the window, pretending the world outside was suddenly fascinating.

At last, they arrived at the company, where Alex and a few guards stood waiting by the entrance. The car door opened on its own once again, and both Jaxon and Isla stepped out, heading toward the building.

Alex’s eyes widened slightly as he watched Isla exit the same vehicle as Jaxon. His thoughts raced: ‘They were together all night?’ When his gaze met Isla’s, his expression hardened into a stern glare.

“Good morning, Mr. Waverly,” Alex and the guards greeted, bowing slightly as Jaxon approached. Jaxon gave a curt nod and strode past them into the building without breaking stride.

Isla, noticing the tension in Alex’s look, felt a wave of discomfort wash over her. She instinctively kept a respectful distance, knowing he likely resented her presence after what had transpired the previous evening.

As they reached the elevators, Jaxon stepped in first, followed by Alex and three guards. Isla, deliberately lingering behind, hoped they would leave without her so she could use another elevator. However, the doors remained open, as if waiting.

Irritation flashed across Jaxon’s face as he stepped out. “We don’t have all day, woman. Move it.”

Alex’s brows shot up in surprise, his confusion evident. The Jaxon Waverly he knew wouldn’t tolerate anyone else in his elevator, let alone show concern for their delay. ‘What’s different about her?’ he wondered.

Reluctantly, Isla stepped into the elevator, and one of the guards pressed the button to close the doors. “Thanks,” she said softly to Jaxon, earning only a fleeting glance before he turned his attention elsewhere.

“Talk to me,” Jaxon said abruptly, and Alex pulled out his iPad, scrolling through notes as he began.

“The elevators were tested, and maintenance is overdue. The team is scheduled to arrive today to address the issue,” Alex explained.

Jaxon nodded, focused. “What else?”

“You have a meeting with Winchester at noon,” Alex added, prompting Isla to furrow her brows.

‘That’s my job to tell him,’ she thought, a flicker of frustration rising. If Alex was going to handle everything, what was the point of her role?

Almost as if Jaxon could read her mind, he interjected, “Let my secretary handle my schedule from now on. Get her an iPad with all my appointments included.”

“Yes, sir,” Alex replied, his jaw tightening as he cast a sharp look at Isla. ‘Who does she think she is?’