Isabella’s pov
As I awoke, the room was bathed in the soft glow of morning light filtering through the curtains, casting a serene ambiance that lifted my spirits instantly. It was the day I would finally meet the master. Everything seemed unusually beautiful, the air crisp with anticipation.
I picked up my phone and read Mr. L’s message once more. He had a private apartment in Melbourne and even a personal driver. The thought struck me anew—this man must be incredibly wealthy.
How would I, a simple person like me, meet someone so affluent? What was he like in person? Was he old or young? Handsome or nondescript? Did I already know him, or was he a complete stranger? And most importantly, what kind of person was he? Was he kind, aloof, or something else entirely?
A surge of nervous ene
