Michael's POV
I pressed the intercom button with deliberate force.
"Rosalind, send her up."
The line went dead. Within moments, my office door swung open.
Lisha sauntered in like she owned the place, every movement calculated for maximum effect. Her hips rolled with each step, a performance designed to command attention.
Pathetic.
She stopped at my desk's edge, positioning herself so her low-cut blouse displayed exactly what she intended. That familiar smirk spread across her face, the one that screamed entitlement and delusion.
"Mr. Jade." Her voice dripped honey and suggestion. "When I got your message, I was shocked. Pleasantly shocked, of course. Especially considering how our previous meeting concluded." She twisted a curl around her finger, eyes sparkling with manufactured allure. "But then again, you understand my value around here. I'm thrilled you've finally recognized it."
Christ, she never stopped talking.
