The Lawson penthouse felt less like a home and more like a mausoleum. Everything was stark, clean, and silent, as if stripped down to bare survival. Isabela stood in the vast foyer, her palms damp despite her steady posture. She told herself this was just another client, but the weight of the silence made her chest tighten.
Her interview was with Mrs. Petrov, the stern head of household staff, but Isabela knew eyes were on her from somewhere else. She could feel it, the quiet intensity of a man watching.
Upstairs, Ethan Lawson studied her from a monitor in his office. His presence filled the room even when he wasn't in it. His expensive suit looked lived in rather than pressed, the tie abandoned halfway. His storm-gray eyes missed nothing, scanning the young woman who stood in his foyer with calm confidence.
"Miss Bankola," Mrs. Petrov began, her voice clipped and sharp. "The position of wardrobe assistant is demanding. Mr. Lawson requires a complete overhaul of his image. This is about more than clothes. This is about…a new beginning."
Isabela met her gaze evenly. "A new beginning needs more than fabric and shoes. It needs perspective. My job isn't to hide who someone is, but to help reveal the strength they've forgotten." She let her words hang in the air, her glance drifting just enough toward the camera, knowing he was watching.
A low voice came from behind her. "Bold."
Isabela turned. Ethan Lawson had stepped into the foyer, tall and deliberate, his voice gravel carried across stone. "Most people who come here trip over their words. You sound like you're auditioning for a TED Talk." His mouth curved, not quite a smile. "What makes you so sure you can handle a project like me?"
"I'm not here to handle a project, Mr. Lawson," she replied without flinching. "I'm here to work with a person. And you, sir, are a person who deserves to feel at home in your own skin again."
The room seemed to pause with them. For a heartbeat, the city outside disappeared. He saw the ambition in her, but also something he hadn't expected: compassion, steady and unforced.
His jaw shifted as though weighing the risk. Then, simply, he asked, "When can you start?"