Chapter 28 A proposal too good to refuse
Chapter 28
Isabella's POV
I stretched my arms to silence the relentless alarm that had invaded my dreams. Groggy and still half-asleep, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the cool floor jolting me into reality. Just as I pulled on my dress, my phone rang, slicing through the morning haze. The caller ID flashed Sophie’s name.
"Wassup, girl?" I answered, a smile creeping onto my face despite the morning rush.
"Can you believe Alex dared to come to my house yesterday?" she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of disbelief and anger.
"What! How did he know where you stayed?" I asked, my heart racing at the mention of his name. I still couldn’t grasp the audacity of Alex; he had crossed so many lines already.
"I honestly don’t know. He was begging me to take him back, but Julian sent him away," she replied, frustration palpable in her tone.
"That jerk is the result of a bursted condom. I can’t believe he would show his face again! I hope your husband wasn’t angry?" I probed, concern knitting my brows together.
"No, he wasn’t," she said, a hint of relief in her voice.
We chatted more about the absurdity of Alex's visit, but I held back the fact that he had also come to my restaurant. I didn’t want to add fuel to her already simmering fury.
With a heavy sigh, I left for work, focusing on the day ahead. The restaurant was always bustling, a chaotic blend of laughter and clinking dishes, which usually helped distract me from my own thoughts.
“Someone wants to see you,” Maria, my colleague, said, her eyes darting toward a table.
“Who?” I asked, curious.
“I don’t know her, but she’s giving rich madam vibes,” Maria replied, a smile tugging at her lips.
“Which one is rich madam vibes again? Only rich people come to eat here, nah,” I joked, shaking my head.
“Oh, that’s true. Just go fast and don’t keep our customers waiting,” Maria urged.
I nodded, taking off my apron as I made my way to the table she indicated. The woman sitting there was undeniably beautiful, radiating an air of sophistication that made her seem almost unreal, like a celebrity out of a glossy magazine.
“Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m the head worker here. My name is Isabella,” I said as I approached. “How was your meal? I heard you wanted to speak with me.”
She looked up, wiping her mouth with a napkin, and for a moment, something about her seemed strikingly familiar.
“The meal was great, and I wanted to know how you know Sophie,” she said, her voice smooth yet commanding.
“Sophie?” I echoed, trying to process the connection.
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“Sophie is my best friend since high school,” I replied, my curiosity piqued.
“Oh! I see,” she said, rising from her seat. “I don’t think this is the best place for us to talk. Let’s go to my car.”
A knot formed in my stomach as I followed her outside. Why did she want to speak in private? My instincts tingled with unease, but I pushed the feeling aside, trying to maintain my composure. We settled into the plush back seat of her sleek car, the tension thick in the air.
“So, Isabella, right?” she began, her eyes locking onto mine.
“Yes,” I said, turning to face her. Suddenly, recognition hit me like a freight train. “Victoria?”
“Oh! Are you just recognizing me? I thought you did from the start. Too bad,” she said, a hint of mockery in her tone.
“Why are you here?” I asked, my voice rising with a mix of anger and disbelief.
“Well... I’m here to make a deal with you,” she stated, her expression unreadable.
“And why would I want to make a deal with you? Excuse me,” I replied, my patience wearing thin. I opened the door, ready to leave.
She hurriedly added, “Well... you will be getting fifteen million dollars if you cooperate with me.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and tempting, but a swell of anger surged within me. I turned back to face her. “If you’re willing to give me a hundred million dollars, I’m still not going to do it. Gorrit? And fuck off!” I snapped, slamming the door behind me as I stormed back into the restaurant.
My heart raced with adrenaline, a mix of disbelief and fury bubbling inside me. How could she think I would even consider working with someone like her? The audacity, the sheer boldness of it all! I took a deep breath, trying to ground myself as the familiar sounds of the restaurant enveloped me. I had to focus on my work and push thoughts of Victoria and her outrageous proposition out of my mind.
I arrived at the restaurant, only to find my colleagues standing outside, looking bewildered.
“What’s going on? Why are you not entering?” I asked, my brow furrowing.
“Well... the door is locked,” Maria said, pointing at it with a frustrated expression. “And you can see what it says.”
‘OUT OF BUSINESS’ was written boldly on the door, the letters stark against the glass.
“But why?” I asked, confusion washing over me.
“Honestly, if you’re asking us, who should we ask?!” Maria replied, her voice tinged with disbelief. The others nodded in agreement. “Did you not get a call?”
“No, I didn’t,” I said, moving closer to the door and pulling at the handle. It didn’t budge.
“Are we fired?” one of my colleagues asked, a hint of panic creeping into her voice.
“At least they should inform us if we are,” another chimed in, anxiety evident on his face.
Just then, my phone beeped, and I glanced at it, my heart sinking as I read the message from the owner:
“Isabella, I’m sorry. I had to close the restaurant for personal reasons. It’s been great working with you.”
I blinked repeatedly, trying to process the words. “Why would he suddenly close the restaurant?” I muttered, feeling a mix of anger and disbelief.
“What the hell?!” Maria exclaimed, her frustration mirroring my own.
I dialed the owner’s number, but it went straight to voicemail. As I hung up, another message pinged in our restaurant group chat. I opened it, my stomach churning:
“Everyone, I had to close the restaurant. Your severance pay has been sent to you. I’m sorry.”
“What!”
“This is insane.”
“We are unemployed.”
“How did this happen?”
The murmurs of disbelief grew louder from my colleagues as I continued to try the owner’s number, but each attempt was met with silence. Just then, the door creaked open, startling me as I nearly lost my balance against it.
A man stepped outside, and I turned to see Victoria standing there, a smug smile plastered on her face.
“You!” I spat, my heart racing.
“Isabella? Come on in,” she said, her smile widening as she stepped back inside. I hesitated but followed her despite my anger.
She settled into a chair, her confidence radiating. “Do you have anything to do with this?” I asked, my voice laced with disgust.
“Well... your boss suddenly decided to sell me the restaurant at double the market price,” she replied, still wearing that infuriating grin. My fists clenched, and I fought the urge to wipe that smirk off her face.
“Wow... you really had a lot to waste,” I said, leaning closer, my voice low and threatening.
“It was a good choice. It’s a choice you can make too. It’s not like Sophie gives you money or buys you anything since she became a billionaire’s wife,” she said, her tone dismissive.
“For your information, she did. She gave me five million dollars! Five million dollars!” I shot back, my pride stinging at her insinuation.
Victoria burst into laughter, her amusement only fueling my anger. “Just five million dollars? You’re so low. You’re happy only with that? I offered to give you fifteen million dollars, but you rejected it just because of five million dollars.”
“I already told you I don’t want to, okay?” I said, turning to leave, but she called me back.
“If you help me, this expensive restaurant will become yours,” she said, her voice smooth and persuasive. I paused, both intrigued and repulsed.
“What... what do you mean?” I asked, my mind racing as possibilities flashed before me.
“I meant what I said. You have two choices: One, take the restaurant and help me deal with Sophie; two, don’t help me and lose your job.”
My heart raced. This whole restaurant? The weight of her proposition hung heavily in the air.
“What am I to do?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.