POV of Isabella
*
"What the heck is going on here?" We both tensed briefly as a stern voice demanded from behind us. The voice jolted me out of my reverie, and I scampered free of Declan's grip right away.
Declan had a look on his face that I would have paid money to see.
I laughed but found it difficult to convince myself that the man would merely chat. Even though his eyes seemed to be looking directly into my soul at the time, he would only speak.
Oh my, I hated him with all of my heart. There was only Ricco, the wealthy. He behaved as though his breath might buy lives!
I was certain that he could only have treated me in this manner because he was covering my tuition. I rolled my eyes at my own ideas, aware that I needed to curb my mental abrasiveness because they were somewhat selfish. Of course, if I were speaking to him directly, I would be modest.
"I demand a response." The young master spoke calmly once more, telling me that he was still in front of us.
As we were conversing, she felt something itch. Declan stumbled.
I started to panic as I heard my mother coming.
Could the young master have told his mother? She would then reprimand me there, in front of Declan and our chilly employer, as if I were a young girl. I detested being reprimanded in front of others. Despite the fact that it was a loving correction, it made me feel ashamed.
Mom's smile was as constant as ever.
"You're already back home, Sir." What's wrong, Isabella? She advanced after possibly spotting the expression on my face. She ran her hands over my face and neck, but I was speechless. Because of how embarrassed I was that our supervisor had discovered us in that predicament, my face was still red and warm.
"My dear, how are you doing?" She fussed over me like she always did, even when the wind blew into my eyes, asking me questions in a worried manner. Declan just kept looking at us.
"Mama, nothing is wrong."
Her face twisted into a grimace, but she stopped when she probably realized we were also in company. She turned around, and I could smell the seasoning on her from where I stood, so I knew she had already begun eating.
Declan, please hurry and meet your father at the other block because he needs your help. Are you prepared to receive your fruits, Master? My Madre was one of the select few who had been able to get entry into the young master's heart, as was the short woman who stood in front of him. She didn't treat him improperly, despite the fact that she had brought him up.
She handled him according to his character.
her superior. young master of hers.
His eyes immediately swept over my thin complexion and hot cheeks before saying, "There is-" absolutely no problem. I'm ready. Prepare my bath right away, Isabella.
My eyes slowly expanded, and my teeth clinched as I stiffened once more. He said my name carefully and softly. I would have to move quickly to avoid running into him in the hallway like the time I had introduced myself and he had merely given me a look of clear annoyance before walking away.
I dared to look up and carefully followed them over the young master, starting with his black Nike footwear and ending with his gray trousers and grey sleeveless sweater. He had a well-defined figure that could be seen even through his hoodie. As I sneaked a glimpse at him through my lashes and let my gaze slowly float over his face, my brows pinched in perplexity.
I hardly ever gave him a glance. One of the many problems I had with Young Master Alexander while we were growing up was that I wasn't afraid to check out a boy. He had developed into a taller, more muscular, more gorgeous respectable man, and boy, did he look silly.
The young master in no way resembled a boy. No, he was a male and he appeared extremely domineering, despite being incredibly attractive.
The instant my eyes met his, his sea blue eyes ensnared me in their alluring spell. My neck prevented me from moving or doing anything, no matter how hard I tried. They dared me despite my attempts to carry my legs and escape.
I was unable to do so and was not even aware of my respiration rate.
Isabella, the young master has a request for you. That was it. Madre gently interrupted my train of thought. The magic was instantly broken. I had the option to turn away, which I did without hesitation. Without giving the young master another glance, I was quickly turned around and ushered back inside the home.
I let go of the breath I had been holding when I reentered the mansion. This was wearing me out. I detested both formality and the wealthy. I desired independence and my own financial security. Be wealthy. Take care of my mother, don't make her cook for a chilly man who stared at her all day and didn't say a word.
The man was constantly rigid, and I couldn't help but wonder if his mouth normally stank or not because his lips were always pursed. With the extreme stiffness, someone else ought to have had a seizure, but not him, never the young master.
I never wanted to be in a position where I would have to remain silent while someone talked and told me what to do. I was glad to be in college for that reason, even though my mama's frigid boss was still responsible for covering the cost of my education. I would finish in a year, at which point I would be twenty-two.
I planned to move my mother out of the mansion and into my own home after I graduated. the home I would construct. As I went inside the bedroom of the young master, I kept that in the back of my mind. The task that was currently in front of me was more urgent.
It was time to get the bath ready. After waiting for thirty minutes, I sighed and quickly dried my hands on my green knee-length gown before exiting the water. I was relieved that I could at last get away to the maid quarters and avoid the complex Alexander.
I still had about a week until school was scheduled to officially resume, so I was fully aware that I would have to put up with him.
I huffed slowly as I remembered how he had been glaring at me while I was with Declan in the garden. I mentally performed a victory dance while chuckling. Declan's reaction was amusing, and it revealed that our young master intimidated others in addition to myself.
The image of those blue eyes scanning every inch of my body passed before my eyes in a single second, and I sniggered once more despite the odd fluttering anxiety that I was still attempting to stomp down. Declan appeared to urinate in his pants.
My brows wrinkled once again as I thought back to him frowning at me while I was getting ready for his bath. What did I do to earn his icy treatment?
I yelled out in shock when my phone started to ring in the quiet room. When I understood who was calling, a smile appeared on my lips and a frown appeared on my face as I searched for my phone in my pocket.
"Marcus..." I stumbled and bit my bottom lip.
I was totally in love with Marcus. I first encountered him while I was still in school, when I had been chosen to represent my department in a debate on revenue and expenditure that my faculty had sponsored.
Marcus and I were on the same faculty, although we were in different departments. On the day of the competition, we met in the hallway and engaged in a head-to-head struggle until there was a tie, at which point the professors gave us both awards.
When he later asked for my number, I pretended to be hesitant, but after several requests, I gave it to him. He had no way of knowing that I had started to feel a little crush on him. Although the guy was attractive and had sleek black hair and dark chocolate eyes, it wasn't what initially drew me to him. He exuded a sleek charisma that was impossible to ignore.
I carefully swiped my thumb over the tablet after being reminded by my trembling palms that I was still looking at it. I might as well talk to him to deal with my sudden tension.
"Hello?"
"Hey, baby." My ears perceived Marcus's voice as a lullaby due to its unexpected softness. I blushed a little in the cheeks in response to the endearment.
Even though he was the school's sweetheart, the guy knew how to get into a girl's underwear, but he promised to wait in line with the other people who wanted to ask me out until I was ready for him.
He was coveted by almost every girl in the school, yet he preferred me alone. I can't even begin to describe how happy this made me feel.
"Hi." I said softly while grinning at myself. I raised my right hand and grasped a strand of hair, twisting it in various directions.
I asked, "Where are you?" He casually inquired. Why would he need to know my location? He wanted to ask me out, right?
I'm at my mother's house, at home. I spoke clearly.
Oh, what I would have done to hear Marcus laugh again after hearing him laugh on the other end. You're such a little baby. You still refer to your mother as "mama"? That is dull.
Upon hearing his statement, I felt defense tug at my chest. He had come off as somewhat offensive.
"Yes, I like to refer to her as that. It's simply how I was raised. How come you called?" I bit my lower lip gradually, but my smile had started to wane. Despite the fact that I was an adult and a student at a university, I saw nothing wrong with calling my mother "mama."
"I wanted to know if you'd like to go somewhere away."
"Hmm. What's there?"
It's "the beach."
I quickly started to feel uncomfortable, and my eyes widened. The shore? Despite the fact that my closest friend Liam and her boyfriend Lucas frequented the beach, I had never been there. My hand moved away from my hair and toward my lips. Unconsciously, I delicately tapped my lips with my left index and middle fingers.
The question, "Are you there?"
But the beach? I...uhm..." He laughed as I babbled. I found it to be a little mocking, and I hated it because it made me feel like I was being made fun of, but like the other times, I ignored it.
"Don't say you've never visited a beach," I said.
Actually, I've never attended a pool party.
"That's juvenile. You've never actually been to a beach? Wow, you're really attractive. I believed you to be one of the popular females in school.
I opened my mouth to continue speaking as I blushed crimson in humiliation when a strange sound came from behind me. When I turned around and saw a flat chest, I was on the verge of screaming. Strong, sculpted, and toned, he gave me a blush that made me realize I was beet red. However, I wouldn't mind running my tongue over it.
Wait.
What the heck—? This chest belonged to who? I would have spilled, but my eyes prevented me from reveling in the lovely scene because I trailed them upward and tensed as I approached the young master. As usual, he had a stern, demanding expression.
"Hand me the telephone." He spoke inaudibly. Oh my gosh, with this dude, my luck just never seemed to be on my side. Heck, I should have left this place a long time ago.
I said, "Sir." I struggled to speak clearly as I continued to stammer while dodging his burning, sea-blue eyes.
Saying, "Hand me the phone, Isabella." Once more, he spoke gently. My heart began to race.
In contrast to his stern look, the sound of my name on his mouth was delightfully sincere and sweet. In addition, fewer younger people now have a strong Italian accent on their tongues due to modernisation, and some local residents who were born and raised here don't even speak Italian. In my mother tongue, I was only able to understand snatches of words.
The young master's eyes appeared to be amused, but that didn't make me feel any better about myself. The young master was speaking to me, which was unusual for him, and he was shirtless.
Who is that young woman? Your large father?" Marcus raised a line of jeers. Be quiet...I resisted the urge to speak even though I wanted to.
"His girlfriend." The young master simply answered as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Despite the fact that it had been a lie, my heart began to race. Just why did he say that?
I stumbled. "What? Si-"
He gave me a knowing look that I should have been able to read and interpret. I prayed that I would pass out shortly. I watched him do something other than glare, and I almost felt like smiling. Still, anxiety surrounded my entire existence.
"Isabella? I had no idea you had a boyfriend. Why didn't you just say that to me all along? Marcus spoke with complete skepticism. I nearly missed the fact that he was even on the line as I blinked. I struggled to find the right words as the truth hit me.
"Marcus I'm not h-"
She no longer has anything to say to you. You'll get into trouble if you call this number again in the future. He gave me another heart-stopping glance before grabbing my phone.
I approached the man with a racing heart. I licked my lips carefully as I waited for him to speak because my mouth was dry. His eyes even appeared to harden as he observed my small act.
I stopped licking my lips unconsciously. He returned the phone to my now-cold hands, warming it with his touch as we made brief skin contact. Say, "Have it." He said it icily.
"Th-thank you, si-"
"Keep it. When do you start school again? He cautiously inspected every square inch of my face. For the hundredth time, I flushed, and I was angry with myself. I need to practice acting more official and assured. Not like an adolescent, who had erratic hormone levels and was still getting to know her body.
"Last week,"
"I don't want you to speak to that boy any longer. Never."
"Si-" I gave him my perplexed expression. I despised myself in part because when he wasn't around, I would have grand schemes for defying his directives, but when he was close by, I would go all soft and become a stuttering mess.
He asked, "What's his name?"
"Martin Sullivan." Without thinking, I just spoke.
Why did he inquire? I wasn't sure what he was trying to prove, but this only served as a reminder that I needed to put in more effort than I was so that I could move my mother with me and we wouldn't miss having him around. When I finished speaking, the man nodded and gave me one final pitiful glance.
"Leave."
I didn't need to be told twice by him. I vanished into thin air.