Isabella’s POV
What was the point of staying here alone without Mr. L? Perhaps I should just return to my hotel. The thought lingered in my mind as I sat on the sofa, sipping a glass of white wine which I had gotten from the fridge. The day had been pleasant enough, filled with Mr. L’s company, and his body; maybe it’s time to go back to the hotel and face reality and my work.
Me: I’ll go back to the hotel after dinner. Thank you, master, for today.
I typed out the message, my fingers hesitating over the keys before pressing ‘send’.
Mr. L was undeniably a workaholic, much like Levi, my boss.
The comparison brought a soft sigh to my lips, a small acknowledgment of how patterns repeat themselves, even in the people we find ourselves drawn to.
Not that I was drawn to Levi anymore. Jus
