Becoming Mrs DeLuca novel Chapter 9

Isabella POV

As soon as I hear the elevators ping I dive for my phone, my finger scrolling through the messages, some from work, one from my mother

“Have fun” the message is followed by a winking emoji, I don’t know who taught her that.

I immediately go to my contact session dialing Bianca's phone but it goes straight to voicemail.

“Bianca I swear you won’t believe where I ended up last night. At Dominic DeLuca’s penthouse!! Call me back urgently!” I say into the phone ending the phone recording.

Soon I hear another pink, and I immediately walk out of the room, My eyes meeting with the first balcony inside the house, I look down my eyes coming in contact with a maid.

“Good morning mam, I’m here to set your bath and with your clothes” She raises a blush pink suit in her hand at me.

“I’ll be right down there” I stop her walking down the stairs, “Thank you but I can set my bath myself,” I grab the suit and I notice in her other hand a pair of stilettos red bottoms

“Okay mam, the chef will be here soon to prepare breakfast, and I’m sent to clean also, is there anything else I could do for you?” She blinks at me, a weird permanent smile on her face.

“No, think you, go ahead,” I say moving out of her way.

She heads upstairs and the suit folded across my arms, I turn around to the elevator doors opening again, this time a man in a chef uniform coming in.

“Good morning Ma, I am Chef Pascal and will be your chef for today, is there anything specific you want for breakfast?”

“no, go crazy” I shrug turning around and heading back upstairs to the bedroom, The maid has dressed the bed the neatest I’ve ever seen a bed, and currently dusting.

“Scratch that, I’m busy from 2 pm and I need out of the building by then, move his meeting till tomorrow morning” I instruct pushing the doors of my office door open, I relax in my seat and of course, I’m key with daunting eyes from the employee, their mouths probably filled with so much to say.

“Yes mam, and also, you got those” She points to the far end of the desk where there’s another bouquet of red roses this time wrapped in a box along with a wrapped present beside it.

“Who brought this?” I turn to her.

She picks up the card reading it out loud “Mr. D” she reads out loud and she looks like she’s about to do some girly squeal with me.

“Thank you” I kid at her grabbing the white card.

“You may go,” I tell her watching as she leaves through the glass doors.