The Billionaire's Secret Twin Babies.✔️

9. Angry with me.

I couldn't help but smile; today was going to be a wonderful day. After promising my little ones for an entire month, I was finally going to take them out for ice cream when I get home. I was eagerly looking forward to it, and their excitement would be the cherry on top.

As I entered Dante's office, a sudden sense of surprise overwhelmed me as my gaze landed on the piles of files sprawled across his desk.

I couldn't help but feel a little perplexed, as in all my time working here, I had never witnessed such a significant accumulation of documents before.

My curiosity was piqued, and I couldn't resist wondering what the reason behind this sudden surge of paperwork could possibly be.

Was there a crucial project that I had missed out on? Or was there an urgent matter that required immediate attention?

As I stood there pondering over the possibilities, my mind raced with questions and speculations, eager to unravel the mystery behind the sea of files.

As I observed Dante engrossed in a phone call, his gaze wandering beyond the glass walls towards the cityscape, I seized the opportunity to appreciate his captivating presence.

With each step towards his desk, I couldn't help but marvel at the striking contours of his chiseled jawline, the way his hair was neatly combed back and the intense depth in his well-tailored suit.

As I stood there, mesmerized by his presence, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at how he effortlessly balanced work and style.

It was as if he was in perfect sync with his surroundings, a true embodiment of success and sophistication.

Even as he conversed on the phone, his calm and collected demeanor exuded an aura of confidence that left me in fascinated.

"Your latte, sir," I murmured softly, setting the steaming cup down on his desk as he concluded his call.

Standing before Dante, I couldn't help but feel shy as his penetrating gaze swept over me, subtly assessing every detail with a quiet intensity.

It was as if he was pausing to evaluate me, measuring my presence before uttering a word. A flicker of self-consciousness crept over me, questioning if I had met his standards and pondering how I could potentially improve if I hadn't.

I acknowledged Dante's discerning eye for detail as one of the key factors contributing to his undeniable success.

His scrutiny served as a testament to his sharp intellect and unwavering standards, fueling my determination to not only meet but surpass his expectations.

A faint tinge of disappointment played across his face, causing my heart to momentarily sink. As Dante finally spoke, his voice, smooth and commanding, effortlessly filled the room with an air of authority. However, it was the unexpected nature of his words that widened my eyes in surprise.

"Not only are you late," he remarked, "but your attire suggests that you're ready for a strip club." The sharpness of his comment cut through me, leaving me feeling embarrassed and ashamed.

"I'm only five minutes late, Mr. Harrison," I defended myself. "I would have been on time if you hadn't called me to ask for a cup of latte from Starbucks a few blocks away." I felt frustrated by Dante's lack of consideration for my schedule, and I couldn't help but push back against his unfair criticism.

Confused by Dante's criticism, I glanced down at my outfit. I was wearing a loosely fitted black skirt that reached my knees and a white, long-sleeved shirt with only two buttons undone for comfort. It didn't reveal any cleavage, so I couldn't understand why Dante had an issue with my attire.