Semua Bab Wrong Girl, Right Love : Bab 1 - Bab 7

Chapter 2 - A Little FightAnnabelle POV “Who gave you the right to talk back to me?” he asked, his expression dark with fury.“I have every right to talk to you! What, are you a celebrity or the boss of this place?” I snapped. “You’re clearly drunk. Who do you even think you are?”I glanced around. A crowd of passersby had already gathered. I could see the people following the stranger—they looked absolutely frozen, shock written all over their faces.“You want to know who I am?” he repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous low.“Yes, of course! Who are you?”“You really want to know?”“Nonsense,” I scoffed. “You’re nobody. Read my lips: YOU ARE NOBODY. Get that through your thick skull, you arrogant jerk!”I wanted to keep going, but the sudden realization of my interview hit me like a cold bucket of water. I came back to my senses. I didn't have time for this. To make my point, I purposely bumped into his shoulder as I pushed past him toward the entrance.How did I just do tha

CHAPTER 4: Not EligibleInside the glass-walled sanctuary of the executive suite, the air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and old money. The candidate in the "club dress" stood trembling, her mascara beginning to smudge as the weight of the rejection hit her.“But… we haven’t even started the formal interview yet!” she stammered, her voice cracking as she teetered on her five-inch heels.Elias Sterling leaned back in his leather chair, the navy fabric of his suit catching the light. He looked at her not with pity, but with a bored, icy detachment. “The interview began the moment you stepped into this building,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “In this company, we value discretion, professionalism, and intellect. You, however, look like you’re waiting for a DJ to drop the beat.”He paused, a cruel, mocking chuckle escaping his lips. “Next time you try to infiltrate a corporate headquarters, wear a suit. This isn't a VIP lounge, and I am certainly not your pr

CHAPTER 6ANNABELLEThe alarm hadn’t even chirped yet, but my eyes snapped open at 6:30 sharp. My stomach did a nervous little flip—that "first day" adrenaline that feels half like a celebration and half like a heart attack."Good morning, Mom," I said, my voice still thick with sleep as she pushed the door open."Good morning, my love." She crossed the room, the scent of vanilla and laundry detergent following her. "I was coming to wake you, but I should have known. This job is going to be the making of you, Annabelle.""I hope so," I murmured, watching her head back downstairs to start breakfast.I took my time getting ready, a ritual to steady my nerves. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail so tight it felt like a facelift—sleek, professional, untouchable. I chose a deep purple shirt that made me feel powerful and a black pencil skirt that hit just above the knee. Then came the enemies: the black heels. They were gorgeous, but within minutes of buckling them, I could already feel