𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒. 𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓈𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈. 𝒯𝓌𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓈.
Isabella Leighton, a 23-year-old aspiring lawyer, unexpectedly lands a job working for the most prominent CEO in New York. While she doesn't align with his lifestyle, the generous sa...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
ISABELLA
Sofia mumbled from the couch, "Why did you apologize to the rich man?" as I prepared a glass of water for her.
"He's not just a rich man, Sofia," I responded, doing my best to remain composed, but it was clear she didn't fully grasp the situation and its implications.
Her head slowly peeked over the back of the couch as I stood at the sink. "Who is he then?" She paused briefly, and in an instant, she was across the living room and in the kitchen. "Is he your boyfriend?" she asked.
"No, Sofia! He's my boss," I exclaimed. Her mouth dropped open, and her hand instinctively covered it as she realized the gravity of the situation.
"Oh my God," Sofia whispered behind her hand. "I'm sorry, Bel." I shook my head, refusing her apology.
"Just get some sleep. Here's your water," I said, handing her the glass and assisting her back to the couch before heading to my own room.
As I paced around my slightly messy room, I couldn't help but think about the various scenarios that might unfold tomorrow. I had a feeling it wouldn't be an easy day.
In an attempt to distract myself, I started picking up clothes strewn across the floor, tossing them into the woolen laundry basket. My vanity had accumulated a few water bottles, which I swiftly disposed of in the trash.
Finally, I took care of the pile of papers scattered across my desk, straightening them up. They had been left there since my interview earlier in the day.
After I completed cleaning up my bedroom, my cellphone unexpectedly rang, causing me to jump. I located my phone beneath my purse, noticing that it was my mother calling.
"Hello, mamá," I whispered gently into the phone, making an effort to avoid disturbing my intoxicated sister, as I was in no mood to deal with any more of her problems.
"Where's your sister, Isabella?" My mother's voice was filled with concern, as both my sister and I were instructed to provide updates on our whereabouts.
I let out a sigh into the phone, fully aware of the consequences that would follow if I told her the truth. Instead of carrying the burden of lying, I decided to come clean.
"She's on my couch, sleeping off the insane amount of alcohol she drank." There was a moment of silence on the call, with my mother not even audibly breathing.
After another pause, I realized it had been too long since my mother had spoken. "Mamá?" I used my sweetest voice, hoping to help her overlook her anger.
