BOUND BY HIS NAME

Isabella's POV

I was sitting at my usual seat, trying to finish the morning duties, when Ana walked over with her bright smile.

"Did you do anything fun this weekend?" she asked, leaning slightly on the counter.

I smiled and shook my head. "Not really. I was in the hospital with my mom all through the weekend... but did you?"

She breathed out softly. "I went to that new café downtown. Did you hear about it?"

"Which one?" I asked, curious. "The one near the park?"

"Yes! Did you know they have free pastries on Sundays?" Ana whispered, laughing softly.

We were still chatting about our weekend plans when a woman walked toward us. She moved like she owned the floor, her high heels clicking softly, her dress perfectly fitted and shining under the lights. Her eyelashes fluttered up and down like she was practicing a spell.

"Miss Ella," she whispered, her voice low and silky. "The boss demands your presence in his office... immediately."

Before I could answer, she eased past me, swaying slightly, then whispered again, "You better not keep him waiting." She glided away as if the floor belonged to her.

Ana and I exchanged wide-eyed looks and whispered behind our hands, trying not to laugh.

"Did you see how she walked?" Ana asked.

"Like she's a model... does she always dress like that?" I whispered back.

"Every day, I think... just to impress the boss?" Ana said, giggling.

"Do you think he notices?" I asked quietly.

"Maybe... but she's too much," Ana added, shaking her head with a laugh.

I laughed too, but then reality hit me. My boss was calling me.

My heart jumped.

I hurried toward his office, my shoes clicking on the polished floor.

When I opened the door, he was standing by the tall window. Mexico City stretched behind him, full of life, but he seemed lost in his own world.

He held a glass of whisky, swirling it slowly.

"Didn't Sophia call you?" he asked without turning.

"She did," I whispered.

"And you decided to stay... and do as you wished?" His voice was calm but sharp, like a blade.

I froze, unsure of what to say. Then I whispered, "I... I forgot, sir."

He finally turned to look at me, his eyes cold and serious. "I hope you remember next time. We don't condone disobedience here."

"Yes, sir," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.

He took a slow sip of his whisky and pointed at the table. "Take the envelope."

I walked over, my heart pounding, and picked it up. The paper inside was crisp, but my stomach sank when I read the words:

Termination of Employment.

I fell to my knees, clutching the envelope.

"Please... it wasn't intentional! I... I have no other job. My mother... her hospital bills... the rent..."

My voice cracked.

He turned toward me, calm on the outside, anger simmering in his dark eyes. "I don't want you to go back to your