COMING FOR HIM

(Izzy's POV)

The first day I stepped foot in Sterling, the boardroom was full of men in designer suits, bland and anonymous, but only one of them mattered. Julian Sterling — CEO of Sterling International, billionaire, husband, father. and the man whose last name had been signed in my father's blood all those years ago.

"Gentlemen," he said, rising as I entered. "This is our new executive assistant, Miss Isabella Vale."

Isabella. Not my real name, of course. That woman had been buried long ago—along with the ashes of everything I'd loved. Valei. Even that was like a borrowed skin, a mask for the role I was about to play.

I walked in, stilettos stabbing the marble floor, each click echoing in the roomy space. Red silk hugged my curves like temptation itself, a calculated risk. Too much for an executive assistant? Maybe. But I wasn't here to blend in. I was here to incinerate. Each step, each breath, choreographed. Years of training had honed me into a weapon, polished and ready to strike. My lips curled as I met Julian's gaze. For a second, he paused. Eyes narrowed. Interested. Maybe even intrigued.

But not suspicious.

Not yet.

"It's a pleasure," I purred, my voice steel in velvet. I extended my hand. He took it. Firm handshake. Warm. Too much trust for a man who commanded empires. Idiot.

"We'll see how long you last," said one of the board members with a lazy smile. Older, paunchy, reeking of cheap cologne and entitlement. He probably saw me as fresh meat, easily blown away. He had no idea.

"I always last," I replied without looking at him. My eyes stayed on Julian, and I didn't let go of his hand until his wife came into the room. I wanted him to feel the electricity, the illicit thrill of our connection, however brief.

Vivian Sterling.

The queen in the palace. The one who smiled with glossy lips and calculating eyes. Her diamonds probably cost more than my apartment. Her confidence radiated like a physical force. She was beautiful, in a cold, untouchable way.

Our eyes locked — two predators wrapped in Chanel and diamonds. Except, she was playing chess. I was playing something far more dangerous.

"Isabella," Vivian said, tipping her head to the side. Her smile stopped short of her eyes. "That's a. striking dress."

"Thank you. Red is. sentimental to me."

No one else caught the double entendre, the scarlet stain of memory that drove my every breath. No one but Vivian, whose smile wavered for half a second. A microscopic fissure in her flawless exterior.

Good. Let the queen feel the quake in her throne.

The meeting itself was a tedious exercise in projections and numbers. I sat silently, taking notes, observing. Julian led the meeting with an easy authority, but I saw the weariness lines around his eyes, the subtle slump to his stance. He was a man weighed down by his crown. He seemed bored, restless. Ripe for disrupting. My disrupting.

I was helpful, anticipating needs before they were uttered. A fresh cup of coffee for Julian, a strategically placed notepad for another board member, a timely question that discreetly highlighted Julian's vision. Impeccable. Unseen. Essential.

As the meeting adjourned and the men in suits filed out, Julian indicated that I should stay behind. My heart rate sped up, a hummingbird trapped in my chest. I stood tall, composed.

"Isabella," he whispered, relaxing in his chair, his eyes remaining on my face. "Where were you working before?"

"A smaller firm," I replied readily. "Nothing on this scale. I'm excited to learn."

"Eagerness is a helpful trait. Especially in this firm." He paused, his eyes lowering to the line of my breasts beneath the red silk. "So is. talent."

I met his stare, unflinching. "I have both, Mr. Sterling."

He smiled, a genuine smile this time, not the one he'd given the board. "Julian, please. Mr. Sterling is making me feel old. And I think you don't take orders very well."

"I take orders that make sense," I replied, tilting my head. "Blind obedience is a waste of talent."

He laughed, a low, rough laugh that sent shivers down my spine. "I have a feeling you're going to be very. interesting, Isabella."

"That's the plan," I said, my voice a low whisper.

He leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. The air between us crackled with unspoken tension. "Tell me, Isabella," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "What are your aspirations?"

I hesitated for a moment, letting my gaze drift to the city stretched out beyond the window. Sky towers piercing the heavens, monuments to power and ambition. "To make a difference," I said, turning back to him. "To leave my mark."

He stared at me for a long time, his expression unreadable. "That's a dangerous ambition, Isabella. Especially in this world."

"Danger," I said, my mouth curling into a slow, deliberate smile. "Is exhilarating."

His eyes darkened. He wanted me. I could feel it, the primal pull, the magnetic attraction between us. It was intoxicating, this power. And it was only the beginning.

"Very well," he said, rising to his feet. "Why don't you come to the Sterling Gala tomorrow night? It's a charity event. Black tie."

"I wouldn't miss it," I replied, already planning my attire. Black tie, with a touch of crimson. A subtle reminder.

As I exited his office, I caught sight of Vivian in the hallway. Her smile was tight, her eyes narrowed. She knew. She didn't know what I was planning to do, not yet, but she knew that I was a threat. Good. Let her fret. Let her toss and turn at night, wondering what I was going to do next.

Tomorrow evening, the game will truly begin. The gala had been merely the opening act. A stage for seduction, manipulation, and the slow, delicious destruction of Julian Sterling and everything he held dear.

And as I turned to depart, I could practically taste the sweetness of my vengeance. A vengeance seven years in the planning. A vengeance carefully strategized, strategically executed. A vengeance that would leave Julian Sterling pleading for mercy.

My old man would be so proud.