Oscar called his assistant, voice calm but firm.
"Nike. Find the car with this license plate. Audi R8. I want the information as soon as possible."
"Yes, sir." The reply came respectfully, efficiently.
Oscar hung up and drove home. On the way, he called his father.
"Dad. If you and Mom don't stop making me go to the blind dates with these weirdos, I swear I won't take my responsibilities seriously. I'm a grown man. I have the right to choose my own partner. And I don't need a woman to help me with business." He paused. "Don't try this again."
He hung up before his father could respond.
The next morning, Victoria woke early.
A long bath. Then she walked to her walk-in closet in her bathrobe, surveying her options. She chose white pants, a peach-colored t-shirt with a ribbon bow at the collar, and white sandal heels.
She left her short, wavy hair loose. Her bluish-grey eyes caught the light, the kind of eyes you could lose yourself in.
She stepped out, entered her garage, and drove her Audi R8 to the office.
At Lazslo Corporation, Oscar sat in his chairman's office.
The company bore the name of its founder, Lazslo, a Hungarian word meaning "glorious ruler." For decades, it had lived up to that name. Now Oscar Sebastian, sole heir, sat at its head. His glass nameplate sat on the desk. Classic. Beautiful.
He was reviewing a billion-dollar deal when the knock came.
"Come in."
Nike entered and placed a file on the desk. "Sir, the information you requested."
Oscar's focus shifted instantly. He set aside the document and opened the file.
First page: basic information.
Owner: Victoria Helson
Occupation: Lawyer
Office Address: [Provided]
Home Address: [Blank]
Phone: [Blank]
Public Net Worth: $1 million
Standard. Surface-level. Information anyone could find.
But Oscar wasn't just anyone.
He turned to the next page.
Private Net Worth: $3 billion (including shares and investments)
Personal Address: [Provided]
Phone: [Provided]
History before Bar exam: [Detailed]
She was wealthy. Very wealthy. The $1 million figure was just her lawyer's income; the rest was hidden in stocks and investments.
Nike had also found where she lived while studying for the Bar exam. But beyond that? Nothing. Her birthplace, her family, her life before leaving home, all carefully erased. She'd hidden her origins so well that even Nike, one of the most capable assistants, couldn't dig them up.
Oscar could push further. He had ways. But he closed the file.
Her past didn't matter. Not to him.
What mattered was what he'd seen in that elevator. Greyish-blue eyes. Cold dismissal. A woman who didn't even register his existence.
He sighed long and deep.
It won't be easy to earn her love. She hates men. She protects women. She's built walls I can't even see.
But then he thought of her face again. That dripping coffee. That empty stare.
However, I'll regret giving up on her without trying. For she feels so special.