Chapter 75: Book 2 Begins.

AUTHORS NOTE

Hello Everyone!
BOOK TWO OF MY BOSS, MY MASTER IS NOW COMPLETE!
First, thank you all for your patience over the past week! I’ve been incredibly busy making sure everything is ready for you, from updating Inkitt to finalizing Book 2.
Here’s what’s new and important:
1\. Book 1 is NOW Free on Inkitt!
If you haven’t started Levi and Isabella’s story yet, now is the perfect time. Enjoy daily updates and dive straight into the drama, passion, and suspense.
2\. Book Titles Have Changed
The series has been officially updated:
• My Boss Wants Me in His Bed at All Costs is now Scandalous Submission
• My Boss Wants to Marry Me at All Costs is now Scandalous Engagement
• Scandalous Marriage (Book 3 is out now!)
The full synopsis for Book 3 is included below.
3\. Book 2 Updates on Novel Snack
For those who didn’t subscribe on Inkitt, Book 2 will also be slowly updated on Novel Snack so you can follow along there or wherever you first read it. While these updates are ongoing, Inkitt readers can continue Book 3 uninterrupted.
4\. Half of Book 2 Coming to Kindle Tomorrow
The second half of Book 2 will be published on Kindle and Amazon tomorrow for those who already bought the first half. The title will remain My Boss Wants to Marry Me at All Costs, keeping continuity with the earlier release.
5\. Reviews and Feedback Needed
Please leave a review and comment on Book 2. Your honest feedback is invaluable—I’m still growing as a writer, and I want to hear your thoughts!
6\. Stay Connected
Follow me on social media, join my communities, and subscribe to my newsletter for the latest updates and behind-the-scenes content.
7\. Series Updates
Some book titles in the mafia series have also changed:
• One Night Stand, Many Troubles is now The Mafia King’s Daughter
• One Night Ruins is now The Mafia King’s Desire
8\. Story Notes & Subscription Tiers
Check your favorite books in your subscription tier to see their new titles and make sure you don’t miss any stories you love.
Thank you all for your support, patience, and love. I couldn’t do this without you, and I’m thrilled to continue sharing these worlds, adventures, and passions with each of you.
With love,
Mira Harlson,

CHAPTER 75
ISABELLA'S POV

Today was my first day waiting tables and running errands for Mr. Ford, the owner of a downtown bar in New York, and I absolutely loathed it.
The lecherous stares from men eyeing me and the stench of cigarettes mixed with gin made my skin crawl. I detested everything about the bar, but I needed the money, so I stayed on anyway.
I was about to take an order from the bartender and deliver it to a customer at table six when a man on a barstool brazenly asked me if I’d spend the night with him for a measly $50.
“Are you kidding me?” I snapped, my voice tinged with disbelief and anger.
The man chuckled, clearly unfazed by my reaction. “Come on, sweetheart, easy money for a pretty blonde like you.”
I shot him a withering look before storming off, muttering under my breath, “Idiot! Fucking idiot! I hate this city.”
The man watched me leave without uttering another word, but I was seething. I stepped outside to cool off in the cold night air before composing myself. I had to recite my new mantra to myself: *This will be over soon.* Before going back inside. As I returned to my rounds, delivering drinks and taking orders, I kept my composure but couldn’t shake off the incident.
“Isabella, you okay?” It was Dave, the bartender, looking concerned as I picked up another tray of drinks.
“Yeah, just fine,” I replied with a forced smile, though my tone betrayed my irritation.
“You’ll get used to it,” one of the other waitresses said.
I turned to see a tall, brown-haired woman in a waitress uniform similar to mine, though hers was noticeably tight and short, showing cleavage. Her tired eyes and the way she carried herself told me she had been here for a long time—a fate I dreaded. The thought wrapped around my chest like a tightening coil. Was this what I had to look forward to? Years of the same monotonous routine, feeling stuck, never moving forward?
A sudden wave of anxiety crashed over me, sharp and suffocating. My fingers trembled against the tray, and for a second, I thought I might drop it. The noise of the restaurant—the clatter of silverware, the distant laughter, the overlapping conversations—blurred into a low, overwhelming hum. My breath hitched. My heart pounded, too fast, too loud.
The urge to run hit me like a reflex. I could already picture myself locked in the bathroom, fumbling for the bottle of antidepressants in my bag. Ever since the incident three years ago, my anxiety had become a shadow that never left, lingering at the edges of my mind, waiting for moments like this to pounce.
But no. Not here. Not now.
I swallowed hard, forcing my breath to slow. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. The grounding technique my therapist taught me barely cut through the panic, but I clung to it anyway. I tightened my grip on the tray, willing my body to stay put.
This shift will be over soon. I just have to make it through.
“Why do I have to?” I scoffed, turning to her.
“Men will always be men, babe, and customers are always right. Anyway, I’m Kim,” she said, extending a hand for a handshake.
I ignored her and went about my duties. ***Gosh. Look how far I’ve fallen.***
After the shift, a few of us stayed late to clean up, leaving me with a throbbing headache and sore feet. By the time I caught a cab home at 6 AM, exhaustion weighed heavy on me.
When I opened the door to my small apartment in Brownsville, Caroline sat at the dining table, engrossed in her notebook. She was the bookworm of the family, eagerly anticipating college. It still felt strange to walk into my own apartment and see other people living in it—let alone people who were supposed to be my siblings. A farewell gift from my mother, one I still didn’t know what to do with.
“Where’s Matt?” I asked as I stepped into our cramped two-bedroom apartment, desperate for a bath and some sleep.
Caroline and I shared a room, while Matt had his own.
“He left early this morning with Josh and Pete, before you got back,” she replied, not bothering to look up from her notes.
“Did he say where he was going with those troublemakers? I’ve warned him countless times to stay away from them,” I sighed. My life was already chaotic—I could barely take care of myself, and now, the weight of playing the big sister role was dragging me down.
“Too bad he doesn’t listen to anyone around here,” Caroline remarked, finally raising her head to smile at me. She brushed a few stray strands of blue hair behind her ears before returning to her writing.
“Let’s not dwell on Matt right now. He’ll just ruin our mood. How was work? Was it really as easy as Lucy said it would be?” she asked, changing the subject.
I scoffed. “There’s no such thing as an easy job. But at the end of the day, the pay makes it worthwhile. I’ll stick to night shifts so I can do something productive during the day,” I said.
Though I had promised to give up, I was starting to reconsider. Maybe I’d try applying for jobs again—it had been a month, after all. I could start small, maybe as a PR manager for an up-and-coming celebrity. Perhaps it was time to leave the corporate world entirely and step into the entertainment industry. The Ferraris had no power there.
“Oh, and guess what? Lucy’s working at McDonald’s now!”
Lucy was the only friend I had made in New York. Even Charlotte no longer spoke to me, but I pushed the thought away. I was ready to move on, to stop dwelling on the past.
As I stepped into the tub, thoughts of the landlady’s recent letter flooded my mind. The notice threatened eviction if I didn’t pay the rent within two weeks. I had no idea how I would come up with the money.
Maybe I could ask Mr. Ford for a loan and work it off gradually. But the idea felt ridiculous—I had just started working there. He’d probably laugh in my face. *And what if he demanded interest? Worse, what if I couldn’t pay him back?*
I shuddered at the thought. Bills loomed large, an ever-growing storm cloud swallowing me whole. Caroline had been accepted to three colleges—three—but we still couldn’t pick one. Not because we were weighing their academic merits or considering campus life, but because the numbers didn’t add up. No matter how I twisted the budget, the math remained cruel. Money was tight. Choking tight. Even with student loans, Caroline wouldn’t survive on her own—not when we could barely keep our own heads above water.
Matt had dropped out of college the previous year when things got bad, and they only got worse. My name had been dragged through the mud—stamped with the stigma of a murder charge, even though I’d been acquitted. The verdict didn’t matter. The stain remained. It followed me, clung to me like the stench of something rotting, making every job application a futile exercise. I tried. God, I tried. I refused to settle for less, refused to take something beneath the position I once had. But the top car companies wanted nothing to do with me. Because of Mr. Ferrari. Because of whispers and suspicions. Because my past was a shadow no one wanted in their building.
I worked tirelessly to ensure we had groceries, to keep the lights on, to stretch every last penny, but the rent—rent was the monster waiting at the end of every month, teeth bared. It was relentless, uncaring, and I was out of tricks.
A sudden rush of panic seized my chest, a crushing weight pressing down like an iron fist. My breath hitched—no, vanished. I gasped, but the air wouldn’t come, wouldn’t fill my lungs. My heart pounded like it was trying to escape my ribcage, wild and erratic. My vision blurred. I wasn’t just anxious; I was drowning.
With shaky legs, I stood up from the tub, my hand clutching my chest. Tears spilled hot and fast, blinding me as I stumbled toward the bedroom, wet, trembling, naked. My hands fumbled with the drawer, shaking so violently I could barely get it open. The bottle of antidepressants sat there, waiting. I popped the pills into my mouth, swallowing them down with stale water from a forgotten bottle on the nightstand. My throat burned.
Then I ran.
Back to the bathroom, so Caroline wouldn’t walk in and see me. Back to the only place I could collapse without facing the wreckage of my life. I sank onto the cold tiles, curling into myself as sobs wracked my body. No one could hear me in here. No one could see.
My life was over.