My Poppy

Hidden Agendas

As the sun dipped below the horizon, my entire body ached, and my eyes stung with exhaustion. I rubbed my weary eyes, letting out a loud yawn. At least now I had a better understanding of my dad's company and its impending partnership with the Ferros. Working alongside them wasn't exactly what I had envisioned, but I was relieved to know they treated women with respect and equality, rather than relegating them to mere housewife roles. I would have fiercely resisted such an archaic notion.

To my surprise, I discovered that Mrs. Ferro had been the previous CEO-and a remarkable one at that. I found solace in knowing that I would have someone to turn to, someone who understood the challenges of dealing with egotistical men who refused to heed a woman's voice. It was a harsh reality, but one I was all too familiar with. Some men simply preferred women to remain beneath them.

After preparing dinner and excusing the house help for the evening, Zack and Dad returned right on cue. Neither bothered to change, their disheveled appearances a testament to their long day's work. I couldn't help but smile as a maid helped me carry the dishes to the table.

"Is Mr. Ferro giving you a hard time?" Dad grumbled when I asked him, pouring himself a glass of water.

"Gets worse everyday. That man is a total workaholic," he replied, I knew all too well about my father's own workaholic tendencies. But just how bad was Mr. Ferro? My gaze shifted to Zack, and I nearly burst out laughing. His eyes were red and puffy, his expression one of pure exhaustion. He could barely muster the energy to speak.

"Don't even think about it," he muttered, pointing a tired finger at me as I set his plate down, struggling to conceal my amusement.

Within minutes, they had devoured everything on their plates, and Zack let out a loud belch followed by a yawn, just disgusting.

"How is it even possible that you're my son?" Dad exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. His less-than-perfect table manners behind closed doors never failed to amuse me.

"Thanks for dinner, sweetheart," he added, offering a grateful smile amidst his exhaustion, placing his hand over mine.

"How did the conference go?" I inquired, eager for any updates.

"He postponed it to Monday. Wants to handle the wedding first," Zack replied, his tone conveying a mix of annoyance and resignation.

"And how's he holding up?" I blurted out without thinking, my curiosity getting the best of me.

"Oh," Zack teased, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously, "Don't worry, he's perfectly fine," he reassured me, tapping my nose affectionately before planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

I couldn't resist playfully slapping the back of his head, eliciting a yelp of pain from him. Dad demanding that we quiet down, which only served to make us laugh even harder. But as the laughter faded, my mind drifted back to the events of the party.

Dante.

I wished I had never met him. Reflecting on it, I realized that the fluttery feeling in my stomach wasn't necessarily attraction-it was my gut instinct warning me. I had foolishly mistaken it for a crush. With a heavy sigh, I gathered up the dishes and began washing them. Household chores were a rarity for me, reserved only for moments when I needed to distract myself from troubling thoughts.

But now, I had a pressing problem to contend with. Lost in my thoughts, I barely registered the passage of time as I scrubbed away, grateful for the temporary respite from my worries. I needed some breathing space before Dante inevitably reached out to me again.

*

The venue, Exquisite, had security cameras installed in every room. Lucky for him, the hotel was one of theirs properties; he had free access to the footage. He prayed they hadn't erased it yet.