Chapter 5 - Famous!

Deus Wycliffe's lips twisted into a cynical smirk. His suspicions had been confirmed. With a mix of satisfaction and intrigue, he delved into the document containing Isabella's detailed information.

As Deus scanned through the document, his expression darkened with each revelation. The depth of detail contained within the document was impressive, painting a vivid picture of Isabella's background, connections, and potential vulnerabilities.

"Interesting," he muttered to himself, his mind already spinning with possibilities. It was clear that Isabella Sinclair was not just a mere bystander in his life but a player with her own agenda.

"Isabella Sinclair, 28 years old, a philanthropist," Deus murmured to himself as he studied the document spread out before him.

Among the wealth of information lay a striking image of Isabella, her features illuminated by a soft glow captured in the photograph. Deus couldn't help but feel a twinge of intrigue as he took in her elegant demeanor.

"So this is the true face of Isabella," he remarked, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

His eyes lingered on the image, tracing the contours of her face with a hint of admiration. "Beautiful. Undoubtedly my type," he admitted with a wistful sigh, his thoughts drifting momentarily to what could have been.

Yet, his expression soon hardened with resolve as he recalled the events surrounding his disrupted wedding. "What a shame..." he trailed off, his fingers curling into a fist as he steeled himself for the confrontation that lay ahead. Despite his fleeting attraction to Isabella, Deus knew that his duty lay in uncovering the truth behind her actions, no matter the cost.

Had circumstances conspired to bring them together under the right circumstances, Deus Wycliffe might have captivated Isabella's affections, perhaps even making her his paramour. However, fate had other plans, as Isabella Sinclair's brazen actions had irreparably tarnished the reputation of the Wycliffe family.

Deus leaned back in his chair, contemplating his next move. Isabella Sinclair had unwittingly stumbled into his path, and now it was time to orchestrate her downfall.

He reached for his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found the number he was looking for. With a sense of anticipation, he pressed the call button, waiting for the familiar voice to answer.

"Hello?" came the voice on the other end of the line.

"It's me, Deus," he replied, his tone commanding. "I need you to make arrangements."

There was a pause before the voice responded. "Of course, young master. What do you need?"

Deus outlined his plan, detailing the steps that needed to be taken to ensure Isabella Sinclair's compliance. He could hear the eagerness in the voice on the other end of the line, a willingness to do whatever it took to carry out Deus's orders.

"Consider it done, young master." the voice said finally before the call ended.

Satisfied, Deus leaned back in his chair once more, a sense of satisfaction washing over him. Isabella Sinclair may have thought she could disrupt his plans, but Deus Wycliffe always had the upper hand. And now, it was only a matter of time before she realized the extent of her.

---

In her absence from the office for two days, Isabella returned to find herself greeted by a daunting array of documents and letters clamoring for her attention. With a soft sigh, she braced herself for the task ahead, knowing full well the weighty responsibilities that came with her role as a public servant.

As she surveyed the piles of paperwork before her, Isabella couldn't help but reflect on the modest compensation she received compared to her peers. Yet, despite the disparity in pay, she found solace in the knowledge that her work was driven by genuine intentions and a deep commitment to serving the public good.

While her friends enjoyed the luxuries afforded by their more lucrative salaries, Isabella took pride in the intrinsic satisfaction that came from fulfilling her duties with integrity and dedication. For her, the true reward lay not in financial gain, but in the knowledge that her efforts contributed to the betterment of society.

Her car was parked in basement 2. As she navigated through the dimly lit corridors of the parking garage, Isabella felt the weight of the day ahead settle upon her shoulders.

Emerging from the elevator on the ground floor, Isabella glanced at her watch and noted the early hour. A sense of calm washed over her as she realized she had a bit of time to spare before the workday officially began. With a thoughtful smile, she decided to treat herself to a leisurely breakfast at the cafeteria.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries greeted her as she entered the bustling cafeteria. Taking a moment to survey the array of options, Isabella's stomach rumbled in anticipation. She queued up patiently, eager to start her day on a satisfying note with a hearty meal to fuel her ahead.

The cafeteria bustled with activity as Isabella made her way through the crowd with practiced ease. Despite being relatively new to her department, she navigated the sea of unfamiliar faces confidently, exchanging polite nods and smiles with those she passed.

Opting for Mr. Plate's Café, renowned for its delectable English delicacies and aromatic brews, she joined the queue, taking in the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon. As she waited, she couldn't help but notice the occasional curious glance directed her way, but she paid it no mind.

As she made her way from the bustling cafeteria to her department on the seventh floor, Isabella couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Each step seemed to be accompanied by lingering gazes, leaving her with a nagging sense of unease. She couldn't help but wonder if there was something amiss with her appearance—perhaps her clothing was wrinkled, or her makeup had smudged. But in truth, she was only wearing sunscreen, pressed powder, and lip balm.

Upon arriving at the office, she expected things to be back to normal, but to her surprise, quite the opposite awaited her behind the door. A group of colleagues had gathered on the sofas across from the counter, their lively conversation filling the room.

"What's all the commotion about?" Isabella pondered to herself before approaching them with a friendly smile.

"Hey, everyone, good morning! What's got you all buzzing so early?" she greeted them warmly, her smile radiant like the morning sun.

Sally, Shane, Addy, and Lisa, engrossed in something on the table, glanced up at her with surprise evident on their faces, their expressions mirroring the unexpectedness of her arrival.

"Miss Isabella..." Sally's voice trailed off, her tone strained. Shane looked at her with a peculiar expression. They all quickly excused themselves, leaving her standing there dumbfounded.

'What the hell?' she thought, feeling unnerved by the strange treatment she received from everyone so early in the morning.

As she reached for the newspaper they had been reading, her heart raced with apprehension. The headline loomed ominously, and she hesitated for a moment before finally grabbing it, her fingers trembling slightly.

MYSTERY WOMAN CLAIMS TO BE PREGNANT WITH DEUS WYCLIFFE'S CHILD AT HIS WEDDING 

"Oh my god!" Her exclamation echoed in the empty room, the sound of her own voice jolting her. She stared at the front page in disbelief, her eyes widening as she took in the headline and the image of herself captured in a moment she wished she could forget.

Her mind raced with questions and scenarios, trying to make sense of the sudden turn of events. How had this happened? Who had leaked the story? And most importantly, what would Deus Wycliffe think when he saw it?

As panic began to set in, Isabella knew she needed to act fast. But with her face splashed across the front page for all to see, it seemed there was nowhere to hide from the storm that was about to engulf her life.

Isabella's mind raced with questions as she tried to make sense of the unexpected situation. How had reporters managed to infiltrate such a private affair? Seeing her own face plastered across the front page left her in a state of disbelief. 

The revelation that Deus Wycliffe, a suppose distant relative of Esmeralda, is a prominent figure in the media spotlight added another layer of complexity to the situation.

With a heavy heart, Isabella made her way to her office, her thoughts swirling with potential explanations for her colleagues and, more importantly, her boss. As a Diplomatic and Administrative Officer, she knew the importance of upholding professionalism—a principle ingrained in her since her first day on the job.

She meticulously combed through the stack of documents resting on her desk, carefully noting down follow-up actions for her team. Each report and memo seemed to demand her attention, adding to the weight of responsibility she already carried. As she worked, a sense of unease gnawed at her, fueled by the fear of her boss stumbling upon the news.

"Miss Isabella, the boss would like to see you." The receptionist's voice interrupted her thoughts, jolting her out of her concentration.

Her heart sank at the summons, knowing it could only mean trouble. With a resigned sigh, she rose from her desk and made her way to the boss's office, her mind racing with anticipation of what awaited her there.