Chapter 5 French Interpreter


    Isabe didn''t know when she had fallen asleep. As she woke up from her sleep, she felt a sharp pain


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    in her lower abdomen.


    She knew that it was the sign that her period wasing. Thest few times she had gotten her


    period, Christian had been home. Thus, this time, she also subconsciously moved closer to him and


    said, “Hubby, my stomach hurts…”


    She reached out to him, but she felt nothing.


    Isabe opened her eyes in a daze only to realize that Christian’s side of the bed was empty and cold.


    Clearly, he had left some time ago. On the bedside table, there was a note.


    The note said, “Going on a business trip. I have a ne to catch.”


    Christian''s handwriting was neat and tidy, just like his personality. The words were also evenly spaced.


    Isabe held the note tightly in her hands. She felt her heart finally break, and she buried her head in


    her arms and burst into tears.


    Over the past three years, she had spent countless days and nights on her own when he wasn’t at


    home. However, she had never felt such heart-wrenching pain before.


    On top of her stomach cramps, she had also caught a cold. She felt awful. She called her employer to


    ask for sick leave, then turned off her phone and went back to sleep. When she woke up feeling


    hungry, she ordered some takeout porridge.


    Two dayster, she finally recovered from her cold and felt much better.


    After taking a shower, she called Naomi. "Naomi, I need your help."


    Naomi asked, "What''s up?"


    “Can you lend me some money?” Isabe knew that Naomi''s family was only middle-ss. Her parents


    were both sried workers who didn’t earn much, but she had no other choice.


    “Is it because of your father?”


    “Yes.”


    News of the arrest of the chief judge of Brighton had spread like wildfire. Everyone had heard about it.


    “I''m working the night shift today so I can’t leave right now,” Naomi said. "But I can transfer 80,000


    dors to you using my phone. It is not much, but it’s all I can lend you at the moment. I''ll try to think of


    something.”


    “It’s good enough. I''ll find a way myself.” Isabe didn''t know what to say. She was deeply moved.


    “Naomi, you’re doing me a huge favor. Thank you so much.”


    ”Naomi scoffed. “How long have we been friends for? Oh, by the way, you know French, right? One of


    my guests needs a French interpreter. The fee is 100,000 dors a night. Would you like to try?"


    "100,000 dors?" She could earn 100,000 dors for interpreting one business negotiation. This was


    indeed a lifesaver since she desperately needed money right now. “Alright, give me the contact details.”


    But they’re hard drinkers. Can you handle it?”


    “It’s not an issue. We also drank a lot when we were in school, remember? Don’t you know how much I


    can drink?”


    “Okay then.”


    They chatted a bit before hanging up. Quickly after, Naomi sent her a number.


    Isabe called the number. She mentioned Naomi’s name, and the person on the phone immediately


    understood. She was asked to dress up and be at the Joy Hotel at 6 p.m. Isabe noted the details on


    a piece of paper.


    After a brief interview, she got the high-paying job. She almost screamed for joy.


    Including the amount that she had borrowed, she could get a total of 180,000 dors!


    For the job, Isabe spent hours carefully choosing an appropriate outfit. When she realized that she


    was short on time, she quickly put on some makeup and hurriedly left the house with her bag and keys.


    After a ten minute taxi ride, she arrived at the hotel.


    Isabe told the waiter her phone number, and he immediately knew which room to take her to. He led


    her up to the third floor. The long corridor was covered in a soft red carpet, dampening the sound of her


    footsteps.


    There were only four people in the room. With just a nce, she identified the leader immediately. She


    went up to him and offered her hand. “Mr. Stock, I’m the French Interpreter, Isabe.”


    “Oh, Isabe?” Mr. Stock was rather impressed by the way she greeted him upon entering the room


    and the way she carried herself. He shook her hand.


    Mr. Stock briefly introduced the other people in the room to her, then exined the topic of the


    negotiation today, which was exportmodities. They had asked for an interpreter because the other


    party was French.