"Call me Ralph..."

Isabella gasped and turned, wide-eyed, to the centre table where the sound seemed to be coming from.

The first thought that jumped into her mind was how mad her neighbour (the alpha) was going to be. 

The sound suddenly stopped.

Isabella tried to decipler how imaginary it was when it felt like the entire pack became pin-drop silent. 

There was a telephone on the table, decorated with blue petals that matched the colour of the room.

Isabella stood rooted to the spot. She had almost gotten a heart attack! With a sigh of relief, she palmed her chest. 

Another shrill ring came again, jolting her like it had done before.

That was the point reality dawned. The phone was going to continue ringing until someone picked it, or until it had exhausted the ringing timeframe. 

And the alpha was going to call her like he had done, this time, with the intention of sending her out of his house while raining brimstones from heaven for disturbing the peace of his serene afternoon. 

Isabealla's feet moved faster than her mind could process. She grabbed the handset, lifting it from the hollow space it rested in. Her heartbeat was now a mad dance. 

She listened for a yell, for something to confirm that her stay in the mansion was over. As a matter of fact, she had not actually stayed. She was not even up to Twenty-four hours in the pack... 

No yell came; nobody banged on the door or aggressively progressed into the room, glowing eyes glaring daggers. 

Isabella didn't know what to think of the alpha. She found herself wanting to know how he looked, how he was when angry—even though it didn't sound sensible—how he walked, and even the way he dressed! 

If she had gotten a clear visual the other time they met, she might have been able to picture how Alpha Damon would look like if he barged into the room in anger... 

"... HELLO..."

It was from the receiver. Isabella cleared her throat and pressed it to her ear. 

"Hello."

"Isabella?" 

Where had she heard that voice? 

"It's me, Ralph," the voice came again, teasing and smooth.

"Oh, Master Ralph!" Isabella cleared her throat and settled on a couch, the handset cord stretching out of the table. "Hi, sir." 

"You must be in your room, right?" 

"Yes, I am." 

"Is the place comfy enough?" 

"It's wonderful! Thank you so much for this—" 

"Nah, you should thank Damon—Alpha Damon. He gave the order for you to stay there." 

Isabella looked at the wall opposite where she sat. If she could see through the wall and that of the other room, she knew she might be able to glimpse the alpha sprawled on bed or under the droplets from the shower in the bathroom... 

Shower, Bathroom... 

No. She shook her head to clear off the insane thoughts. 

"I will extend my appreciation to him," Isabella said softly into the receiver. What she didn't expect was to hear Ralph chuckle.

"I just pictured how he would reply. That man can hardly be read." The other end of the line was silent for some time. Only the sound of Ralph's breathing got to Isabella. When he spoke again, it was after a long exhale, "I just wanted to let you know that the telephone will be the medium of communication between you and the alpha—and me. I hope that is okay?" 

Isabella almost scoffed. Even if it wasn't okay, did she have a say? By the way, Ralph was just being nice. "It's okay with me. So, i will receive calls from Alpha Damon?" she asked to know how often she was going to hear the Alpha's voice. 

"Yes, you will. Since Alpha Damon is very keen on his privacy, he might not accept you waiting within his chamber. And if you ever need to get across to him and don't want to knock on his door, you can place a call to him. The second upper button is for the telephone in his room. The fourth is for me."

Isabella's eyes went there. She caressed the second button. Ralph hadn't said anything about the first and third, and she was itching to find out which part of the house would jolt to life when she pressed either of them.

"I totally understand," she said softly, an indication of respect, but the man on the other end cared little about respect. 

"Your voice sounds more beautiful over the phone." There was a slight shuffle that made it seem like he was getting out of bed. "Anyone ever told you that?" 

"Master Ralph, how do I get my things?" Isabella asked, coyly evading his question. 

"I'm coming over now. I just thought to call you so you understand how things work around here with the telephone. Give me some minutes." 

Immediately the call ended, Isabella rushed to the sofas and began to dust them. If wasn't necessary, but she did it anyway—and even went into the bedroom in search of anything that could give her out as an untidy person. 

It wasn't until she got back to the sitting room that the realization came: she had barely stayed a day!

With a sigh, she plopped on a couch and patiently waited. 

Ralph wasn't supposed to take an eternity, after all, he stayed at the middle floor, so what was taking him long?

Why did she even care? 

A knock pulled her out of her thoughts. 

"Come in," she said after clearing her throat. 

A subtle masculine scent entered the room before Ralph. 

Isabella immediately got up and posed respectfully, with her hands resting on each other in front of her. 

"Master Ralph." She bowed slightly. When she looked up, he was smiling and looking around in satisfaction. 

"I'm happy you like the place. I didn't think it would be comfortable for you." 

"It is." The scent came again as Ralph walked to one of the windows, still nodding. Isabella recognized the hint of jasmine in his body spray.

He wore a silk shirt that exposed a very large portion of his chest and abs, and a matching pair of baggy trousers. Around his feet were leather slippers suitable for indoor movement. He looked neat and crisp. 

Isabella had not checked his features the other time, so she did so now.

Ralph wasn't a man you looked at once, she had to give him that. His sandy-brown hair and dark eyes were worthy enough to get him a second glance—and maybe a third, if the person in question had a lot of time to spare.

Just like the other wolves she had seen all morning, Ralph had muscles; nothing but strong muscles that outlined every part of his body. 

As he walked around the sitting-room space, Isabella watched him, nothing the way his long fingers rubbed on the surface of the wall, seemingly checking if it was old enough for a repaint.

"So, you didn't bring anything?" Ralph asked, his eyes still roving around the room. It was evident that he was trying to force his eyes away from the young woman before him. 

"No, sir. I didn't bring anything with me. I had no idea..." She trailed off when she saw his lips moving. The words rolled out of his mouth in a murmur. "Did you say something?" 

"Yes," he sighed. "Please call me Ralph. I will feel better that way." 

"The accordance of respect to the managers of the house I serve—and live in—should be one of my priorities. I would feel very uneasy should I address you in such manner... Master Ralph." 

For a moment, Ralph did nothing but scoff. Then he smiled. The look in his eyes showed that he knew he was fighting a lost battle even before laying his complaint. He had no luck with it the first time. 

"I want you to be comfortable here," he said with a charming smile. "Feel free to call me whenever you want." 

A soft sigh of relief escaped Isabella. "Thank you... sir." She pulled out of the conversation with the speed of light. "You asked a question." 

"Yes, I wanted to know if you brought anything with you." 

"No, I didn't. I wasn't expecting to resume today."

"That's fine. It might be unnecessary to bring your things over here since the pack will provide whatever you need."

"Whatever I need? Does that come from my paycheck?" Isabella asked to be sure of what she was dealing with. 

"No, not at all. It's courtesy of the pack. You will get clothes, food, and other wholesome benefits."

The offer sounded nice—a bit too nice, if Isabealla was to look closely at it. The payment for the maid position looked too enticing, and now, there were additional benefits? 

Just for serving the alpha? 

Then why wasn't there a long line of queue from the mansion to the pack's walls? 

Another round of suspicion filtered into Isabella. 

"That sounds nice," she managed to say. "But the main reason I want to get my things is to see my friend. She isn't aware that I have gotten the job."

"Do you have a telephone at your place?" 

"No." 

"That's okay. Write her a letter, she can come see you. Maybe even bring your things when coming. A sentry will deliver the letter to the designated address." 

"Why... Why can't I leave?" The cautious part of Isabella rang an alarm inside her. Had she been kidnapped?! 

"It's dangerous, Isabella." Ralph's eyes rested on her, boring deep into her eyes. "By now, news must have gone round that there is a new maid for the alpha. If anyone lays hands on you, their interest will center around forcing out information about the alpha—information you know nothing about—or holding you for ransom. Trust me, the pack will pressure Dam—Alpha Damon into paying whatever they ask."

Isabella's heart flipped. Now she understood why Iora stood against the idea of coming to the pack in search of the maid position. 

Was it too late (or too early) to indicate an interest in resigning?

Isabella would have asked the question; hell, she had already moved her lips to speak when Ralph started talking. 

"Away from that subject, I want you to understand that there are rules that will guide your stay here, especially on this floor... It will help to keep your head safe on your neck..."