Alpha Noah ✔️

Chapter Eleven

Word Count: 1668

~Abella

My head has never ached so much as in this moment.

Sitting up, I wince against the sunlight streaming through my open curtains. My head throbs relentless, a suggestion of what I got up to last night. Whatever it might have been that I actually did, it's escaped me, but clearly it had something to do with.

My eyes drift over to my nightstand, where a glass of water lies beside two pills, and a note. Ignoring the pills, I go for the note. The moment I lay eyes on it, my entire heart jumped into my throat.

Bella darling,

Immediately I roll my eyes. Bella? I already know it's from Cian, since no one else who barely knows me would shorten Abella to Bella before getting tomorrow me. Especially when I'm quite clear with Cian that I don't like him.

Last night was magical, and I had an amazing time with you and your Sam. It's a shame you won't remember it.

Regardless, I wish you the best of luck with your new life. I hope the Alpha treats you right. But not too right.

I hope I see you again soon.

Cian.

(P.S. I left you water and some aspirin for that inevitable headache.)

Gritting my teeth, I pick up the glass of water and drain it. It doesn't help the dryness on my tongue, but it does quench a small amount of sleep. I'm not going to take the pain pills knowing that Cian has touched them. How did he even get into this house in the first place?

Sam clearly has something to do with it. Maybe she invited him...Either way, as I glance at the clock, I realise I'm going to be late. Again.

It doesn't take too long to for me to Pack up a taxi considering the little I own. I might be late, but with the throbbing in my head, I'm in too much pain to care all that much. Maybe I shouldn't have been so stubborn and just have taken the pills.

No. I'm still mad at Cian.

He's out of your life now. You're going to live half an hour away from him, and he's no longer going to visit. You won't be in his harassment and attention territory.

Looking through my dark sunglasses, we pull up into Noah's estate. It's a lengthy estate, my accomodation hopefully nowhere near the actual manor. I might have met Noah, but that doesn't mean I get any more special treatment compared to anyone else. I'm still just another one of this sad workers who work at the bottom of his estate like some kind of prisoner. A prisoner who gets paid.

The driver drops me off at work before going to drop my belongings off at my new accommodation. I hold my head up, and walk straight in through the back door to the mailroom. Heather is standing at my work table, arms crossed, glaring at me.

"You're late," she comments, her foot tapping lightly against the floor impatiently. I wonder how long she was standing there, waiting to catch me out.

"I'm sorry, it won't happen again," I murmur.

Heather narrows her eyes on me skeptically. "Why are you wearing sunglasses inside? Are you hungover or something? If so, that's not the best way to make a good impression."

Rolling my eyes, I tug my glasses off my head and ignore her as I start my work. I was hoping to keep a low profile and not get noticed by anyone today, or maybe even for the next month. I've gotten into my fair share of drama recently with the higher ups. Either Noah is going to fire me soon, or his assistant, who I clearly didn't make a good first impression with.