The CEO’s Fake Bride
she was back, now in uniform, hair tied up, with a backpack containing water and a snack.
The shift started punctually. Lúcia gathered the team in the basement: Carla, a tall, slim brunette around thirty with a sharp gaze; Vivian, a platinum blonde with curves and a mouth that always looked ready to gossip; and three other quieter women.
“This is the new girl, Isabella,” Lúcia introduced. “She starts today. Show her the ropes.”
Carla looked Isabella up and down, lingering on her breasts and hips.
“Pretty little thing, huh?” she commented in a low, mocking voice. “Freshly married and already here cleaning shit? What a life.”
Bab Populer