intended for CEO

gnancy test, Isabella! PREGNANCY TEST!. I glance at the clock. It's still too early for a coffee break, but honestly, I deserve it. Just a minute away from all this chaos. But just

eeling relief run through me as I enter the small but comfortable apartment. I close the door behind me, leaning against it for a second, just to absorb the peace of being away from the madness of work. Just for a few minutes, without reports, without bosses, and without... chaotic thoughts about Dante Ferraz. Or at least, I try. My house is a reflection of my life: organized on the surface, but with some zones of controlled chaos. The couch in the living room has a blanket thrown casually on top-that is, casually since I gave up folding it a few days ago. A stack of books sits precariously on the coffee table, and my laptop is there, in the corner, staring at me as if to say, "Don't forget me, I still have work to do." "Not today, laptop. Not today," I mutter to myself, throwing my bag on the floor and kicking off my shoes. The first thing I do is head to the kitchen. My post-work routine is simple: something that involves comfort and carbs. I open the fridge, grimace when I find only an old salad and a container of expired yogurt, then head straight to the cupboard where I keep my salvation: instant noodles. Yes, it's not gourmet, but it works. I fill a pot with water, turn on the stove, and while I wait for the water to boil, I roll down the sleeves of my shirt, take a deep breath, and drag myself to the couch, where I collapse with an exaggerated sigh. Finally, my kingdom for a few minutes of peace. I grab the remote and start flipping through the channels, but nothing really holds my attention. Perhaps I should put some series of comedy, something that makes me forget the potential disaster of my life at the moment. Who knows a series about someone who has even more disorderly than mine? It's tormenting me from the party.-And if I'm pregnant? Return, right? Everything is consuming me in one way or another.What if it's pregnancy? What am I going to do? My life is already chaotic enough without a baby on the way. And how am I going to deal with him... Dante. If it's his... Of course it's his, who else would I have slept with? - Oh, Isabella, breathe! - I say to myself, turning off the stove and picking up the bowl of pasta. And of course I'm freaking out, but at least I can freak out with food