Chapter 4 Stranger behind the smile

Alexander adjusted the cuff of his shirt for the third time.

He hated waiting...Patience wasn't a virtue of his ,not like he was a man of virtues anyways.

The conference room at Wolfe Holdings wasn't built for comfort...it was glass, marble, and cold metal. Imposing. Controlled. Just like he liked it.

Except now, he was waiting for a woman...a stranger,who had the nerve to keep him in suspense.

"She's on her way up," his assistant said through the intercom. "Security has cleared her."

He didn't respond. Just turned toward the window, where the skyline glinted in the mid-morning light. His thoughts drifted,to the unexpected softness in Ella last night.

She'd come home quiet but... lighter. Not sulking, not withdrawn. She had asked him a question at dinner-"Do you think dogs know who loves them?"-and it had thrown him completely.

It was the first full sentence she'd said to him in two weeks.

Something had changed in her.

The door opened behind him.

He didn't turn right away.

"Mr. Wolfe," came a calm, female voice. "Thank you for meeting me."

He turned.

And stopped.

She wasn't what he expected.

He'd imagined someone polished, rehearsed. Desperate for a billionaire's attention.

But the woman standing before him looked composed but natural-minimal makeup, hair tied back in a loose knot, simple blouse tucked into modest slacks. She carried no perfume that choked the air, no designer handbag screaming for approval. Just presence.

He didn't like how quickly he noticed the curve of her mouth. Or the quiet confidence in the way she met his gaze.

Too calm.

Too collected.

Trouble.

He gestured to the seat across from him. "Ms. Lane."

She nodded and sat. No fidgeting. No attempt to flatter. Just stillness.

"Let's not waste time," he said, sitting. "You know the terms."

"I've reviewed them," she replied. "The legal arrangement. The time frame. The boundaries."

"And?"

"I'm not intimidated by it."

He narrowed his eyes. "You should be."

She held his gaze. "Why? Because you're difficult?"

That startled him.

Most people tried to impress him. Or at least appease him. She'd just called him difficult to his face...with a calmness that made it clear she wasn't being brave, just honest.

"And what makes you think you're qualified to walk into my daughter's life?"

"I'm not pretending to be her mother," Amira said, folding her hands neatly. "But I do know what children need when they're hurting."

"And you think a few hours in a penthouse will fix her?"

"No," she said. "But being seen might."

Her voice wasn't condescending. It was... sad. Like she understood what it was like not to be seen.

His jaw flexed.

"Ella doesn't trust easily," he said.

"Neither do you."

He hated how fast that struck a nerve. He leaned back in his chair, trying to regain control.He didn't understand what made it so easy for her to get to him so easy.

"Let's be clear," he said coldly. "This is a contract. Not a love story. You'll live in my home, support my daughter's development, and maintain a professional boundary."

"I'm aware," she replied, still unshaken. "And I have no intention of crossing it."

Yet somehow, she already had. Just by walking in and speaking plainly...she had shaken him up more than he expected.

"Why are you even here?" he asked suddenly. "Surely there are easier ways to make money."

She hesitated. "I'm not here for money, Mr. Wolfe. I'm here because I think I can help a child who's falling through the cracks."

He studied her again.

No hidden glances toward his watch. No flirtatious energy. Just this maddening, steady calm that scraped against everything he'd built to keep people out.

"You'll meet Ella tomorrow," he said stiffly. "The staff has been informed. Your room is being prepared."

She nodded once and stood.

But before she reached the door, she turned back.

"One more thing."

He arched a brow. "Yes?"

"I'm not the enemy," she said simply. "You don't have to like me, Mr. Wolfe. But you might want to ask yourself why you're so sure I'm the problem before I've even begun."

And then she left.

The click of her heels faded down the hall, but her words stayed lingering in the air like cologne.

Alexander remained seated, staring at the door.

He didn't trust her.

But that didn't mean she was wrong.