Novel & Cerita Isabella Miller

For three days? "Why me?" she asked quietly. Richard leaned back in his leather chair, his eyes traveling over her body. Isabella was twenty-five, Chinese-American, with long dark hair, delicate features, and curves that her professional attire couldn't hide. She worked out, ate well, took care of herself. She knew she was attractive.

' I say nervously but she just gives me a tight nod while looking at me up and down. 'Who are you?' she asks well more like demands. 'Isabella.' 'Are you one of Ace's hookups.' she looks at me with a disgusted look and I had decided right then that I did not like this girl not only because of her rudeness but the way she dressed. Her clothes were so tight I could swear the button on her uniform was ready to burst at any moment not mention how short her uniform was. 'Because if you are let me tell you right now not to get your hopes up, I can see the look on your face you like him well let me tell you something little girly he is fucking mine.' she says while smirking then she held her hands

Isabella informed her as they all walked in. Victor walked in after and was equally welcome by Isabella and she led them to the living room. She quickly went to the kitchen and served them coffee. "Mr McClean," Isabella said looking at the man. "I am sorry, but who are you?" Mr McClean asked smiling. "It's me, Isabella Mitchell. You paid my fees for me when I was in junior high," Isabella said smiling. "Forgive me, I am unable to recall, but glad I could be of help. How are you?" Mr McClean asked.

The way he said ladies made me cringe like we were something other than ladies. “Teresa Montés and Isabella Valéz.” Chino responded. “These wouldn’t be my brother’s daughters, would they? “They are.” “So, you escaped Zamora. “ “Yes,” I said. “You must be Isabella. The older one, right? “He looked me up and down. “Hmmm.” He walked over to Teresa, she looked at me nervously. She is only 19. Barely even legal in the United States. He touched her shoulder, she jumped. “It’s no reason to be afraid.” He rubbed her shoulders.

"Conference meetings, interviews—drinking at night with girls, hosting models in your office when you get a rare free moment, meeting with producers, scheduling business trips, hiring and firing employees…" "Enough," I cut him off, waving a hand. "I get it. I’m busy." Noah shrugged, holding back a smirk. "Well, she seems like a nice woman," He said, nodding slightly as he adjusted his iPad. "She volunteers at orphanages downtown and honestly, she’s beautiful." I raised a brow. He wasn’t wrong. "Her name is Isabella Knight, though she goes by Bella. She’s twenty-one and dreams of becoming a full-time chef. She has an older sister, Jean, who’s a model." He explained, tapping his iPad.

Isabella grabs her shoulder bag and re-adjusts her blouse ,she felt so full,with that she leaves her room . **** The drive to the house was a lengthy one for Isabella ,she managed to put her nauseousness at bay while driving . She steps out of the car as the chaffeur held the door open for her . The rest of the maid and attendants bow their heads some in respect ,others in fear so as not to be fired from their place of work . Isabella barely acknowledged these gestures to her, they were all gold diggers seeking validation from their wealthy boss and she had no business in that .

We walk to a small balcony, so I put on a cigarette and give one to Liam, "What happened with Isabella? Why do you look so miserable?" "I don't even know, man. I can't..." he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, "She's not herself. You've seen it, haven't you? She was barely mean to Nukea. That's not normal. She’s not talking to any of her friends, she says weird things. And she's being nice to Millie, she's being nice to me." "Okay... those sound like good things, right? Or am I misunderstanding?"

Isabella said, pointing to the group of women I'd seen arrive. "Oh, really?" I asked, interested. "And do you know who they are? I only know Melissa and Samantha." "They're just a bunch of opportunists!" Isabella said jealously. "The Larson girl is a brute. That Samantha, I don't know how she bewitched Henry, the black-haired one is Catherine, Larson's friend and Miller's assistant, they were having a fling, but my friend Carol already took care of her and got Alexander back, the redhead is seeing Patrick, the shortest one I don't know, she's new to the group, and the other one is married to Rick, Patrick's assistant."

I was looking for Annalise, with all her quirks and fire and infectious laughter. “I appreciate the offer, Anne,” I said, gently pulling away. “But I’m perfectly content with a little… quirkiness in my life.” A slow smile spread across my face, genuine and unwavering. Isabella’s carefully constructed facade faltered for a moment, a flicker of genuine surprise flitting across her eyes. Then, with a toss of her head and a haughty laugh, she sashayed away, leaving me alone with the lingering scent of her perfume and the weight of her unspoken challenge.

Isabella hadn't expected this to happen. Now you may ask: what was Isabella doing that lead to her being in the midst of a cop chase? She had been spying on a drug transaction, as she was supposed to gather intel for the benefit of her client. Killing wasn't her only job, after all. She was ready to accept any job that earned her a great sum of money. Nevertheless, she was merely a spectator. That was until the police were called and she ended up being suspected as one of the drug dealers, thus resulting into the current cop chase she was in.