𝐈𝐬𝐥𝐚'𝐬 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞| ✓

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

Chapter 3

I slowly but surely lifted my head to face him and I nearly collapsed flat on the floor. The mesomorphic man sitting in the large throne-like chair before me was enormous; the epitome of Hercules.

He looked fierce; formidable but drop-dead gorgeous. He was very beautiful, like an aristocratic painting.

Some dark wavy hair sat at the top of his perfectly symmetrical head, his sharply chiseled jaw locking slowly as his unique, silvery grey eyes studied me with intense interest.

His plump pink lips curved into a tantalizing Cupid's Bow and his nose was perfectly pointed. His strong aura screamed opulence, dominance and full authority. He looked as though he had the world in his hands.

His robust, muscular arm was placed over the golden glass table, a pen being twirled in his abnormally long fingers. He had a terrifyingly stone-cold face, and he looked very flamboyant. He probably was very affluent in society.

He looked a mixture impatient, splenetic and amused. He was very good at concealing his emotions, and he didn't utter a single word until I stood in front of him on the opposite side of the sumptuous table.

He scanned me slowly as I swallowed again, harder this time. I tried not to look intimidated but I was shivering. His looks alone were spine-chilling, I felt nervous being within his vicinity. I had never seen anyone this ravishing and fine before.

"Sit." That powerful command alone sent my gut doing little somersaults.

His voice was resonant, chilling and yet so sexy, soft and manipulative that I could feel a warmth stir in the depths of my womb.

I did as I was told as gracefully as possible before crossing my legs together. I didn't need my friend down there embarassing me during my interview, especially with the enchanting beauty of this man.

His office was immaculate, classy and absolutely phenomenal. Everything around was gold and black, or clear with gold streaks, or electronic in some aspect or the other.

There were some dark curtains to the left of me which made the room look a bit dim but that didn't make it any less majestic. He was definitely loaded.

I finally stopped looking around and blushed in embarrassment as I realized that Mr. Nicholson was training my every move.

Whenever I flinched, his body would react as well, as though I was going to attack him or do something unpredictable. His gaze never left me as he analysed everything, from my posture and facial expressions.

It was as though he could see all that I was thinking about. He seemed very precipient. As though he knew all the problems I had and was encountering including the real me I had hidden from the rest of the world. The burdened me.