Isabella walked to the gate of the mountain villa. Just as she was about to pull her phone out to call a cab, she looked up and spotted the driver who had driven them here.
The moment the driver saw her, he greeted her warmly, "What brings you out here, Mrs. Sinclair?"
Isabella gave him a friendly smile and replied, "I'm about to leave. There's somewhere else I need to be."
The driver gave her an understanding nod, then offered, "I'll give you a ride, then. Please hop in, Mrs. Sinclair."
Before Isabella could even refuse, he opened the car door for her, leaving her with no choice but to thank him. "Sorry in advance for the trouble, then."
"It's no trouble at all. This is my job. Plus, you look very kind, Mrs. Sinclair—unlike other rich people who'd never look us low-level workers in the eye. You're different from others, Mrs. Sinclair."
Isabella smiled, though she wasn't sure if she should feel glad or sad about what she just heard. It just proved that she and Theodore were from completely different worlds.
Halfway through the journey, she texted Theodore to say that she had something urgent to tend to and had to leave.
Initially, her plan was to turn her phone off after sending that text. But after giving it some thought, she figured that only someone who was loved and doted on had the right to act wilfully. Queenie was one such example.
While she pondered over this, her phone rang. For a brief moment, she actually thought that Theodore was calling her back right after receiving her text. In the end, when she lifted her phone, she saw that it was Alexander calling.
It was the third day of his business trip. During the last three days, he seemed to have vanished into thin air.
He hadn't called her or assigned her any tasks. Could he be calling her out of the blue because of something important?
Isabella answered the call right away. "Hello?"
The other end of the call was filled with silence. She held her phone away from her ear to have a look, thinking that the phone call hadn't gone through. However, she saw that the time was ticking, an indicator that the call had gone through.
"Mr. Sinclair? Can you hear me?" she asked again.
As before, there was complete silence at the other end of the call.
Perplexed, she lifted her head and asked the driver, "Excuse me, sir. Is the reception here bad?"
The driver answered, "Indeed. The reception in the mountains can be bad at times."



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