Chapter 7

Nathan spoke with confidence, “She can’t survive without me. Just wait, it won’t even take a week before she realizes how much she needs me and contacts me herself.”

The housekeeper shook her head and sighed. “You’re taking advantage of her love for you, Young Master. But not everyone will wait for you to come around.

Nathan slumped onto the couch, feeling weary. “This is the last time.”

**In a Foreign Land**

After stepping off the plane, Isabella didn’t leave the airport. Instead, she bought tickets for another city. She wandered through several locations before finally arriving in Milan, Italy.

Standing on the unfamiliar streets, surrounded by strangers with pale skin and curly hair, a deep sense of loneliness enveloped her.

With no money to her name; Isabella found a nearby restaurant where she washed dishes and did odd jobs for meager pay. For

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lodging, she spent nights sleeping on airport benches until her wages were paid.

Recovering from surgery and a miscarriage, she overworked herself, often to the point of exhaustion. Her wounds became repeatedly infected, and she nearly fainted several times while working. Concerned for her health, the restaurant owner eventually dismissed her under a polite pretense.

Jobless and penniless, Isabella spent her remaining wages in her search for a new job. To make matters worse, the place where she had been sleeping was taken over by a group of delinquents.

When she tried to retrieve her belongings, their predatory gazes made her flee in fear, abandoning her luggage.

Sitting on the roadside, she broke down in tears. But after crying, she wiped her tears and smiled bitterly.

Before Nathan found her four years ago, wasn’t she just a penniless beggar with nothing?

Determined to survive, Isabella started scavenging for food in trash bins, much like the other homeless people.

By chance, she found a valuable wallet in the garbage. A thief had stolen cash from a wealthy woman and discarded the wallet, which contained important documents.

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sentimental value for its owner. Out of a kind heart, she returned it to the address listed on the ID inside.

was initially suspicious of Isabella.

said, “I didn’t steal it, I swear. I was just too hungry and found

material–it’s from Master Jasmine’s first generation of luxury bags, one of only nine worldwide. I figured it

woman was astonished. “Now I believe you must

laughed bitterly. “You’re mistaken. I’m just a poor girl born in the

“Miss, no matter what, you’ve returned my late husband’s gift to me, and I must repay

replied, “There’s no

“But

30-74%

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need

But more than that, I need love…

“I can at least give you a job. Would you like to work as a

Isabella’s

recommend you to a factory as a seamstress.”

her. “Thank

Isabella had spent her days as a dutiful wife, ironing clothes for everyone in the Hill family. She couldn’t bear to see any flaws in the expensive garments and would painstakingly repair

developed a

woman, didn’t judge her tattered appearance. Instead, she gave Isabella special

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worked tirelessly to express her gratitude. The employer grew increasingly

have no one here, you don’t speak the

the fabric of time. She answered with a melancholic resolve,

bitter or exhausting it was,

so talented with your hands and seem to have a natural gift for fashion design. Have you considered going back to school? With a degree in fashion design,

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