M understood the awkwardness of the interview and knew it was natural for someone to feel uneasy after such an embarrassing incident.


    The only odd thing was that Lysander hadn''t approached her about the divorce in days. Had he even seen the divorce papers?


    M decided to call Lysander again.


    This time, she didn''t wait for him to speak first. "Have you signed it?" she asked pointedly.


    "What?" Lysander sounded confused.


    The moment he reacted, M realized he probably hadn''t been home in days; otherwise, he would know exactly what she was talking about.


    "I mean the divorc-"


    "Lysander, who is it?" Giselle''s voice interrupted, and before she knew it, Lysander replied with a quick "No one" before hanging up.


    M gripped her phone tightly, half-amused, half-irritated.


    Here she was, trying to make room for someone else in Lysander''s life, and he wasn''t the least bit appreciative. He couldn''t even spare a moment for a phone call.


    Every call went like this; he clearly didn''t want to deal with her, and M was getting tired of reaching out.


    She refused to believe that Lysander would never return home. As soon as he did, he would find the papers, and it was only a matter of time.


    If the divorce wasn''t finalized before the year ended, she was prepared to visit Lysander''s father. After all, her father-inw had never been fond of her.


    Having sorted out her thoughts, M returned to her own affairs.


    She no longer wanted to concern herself with anything rted to the Montgomery family and focused entirely on herself.


    That evening, she received a message from a mysterious high-profile client of her studio. They requested her to deliver a gown to a specified location by 5 p.m. the next day.


    It wasn''t toote in the day.


    She checked the address and found it was a manor in the countryside. However, the map only showed the mountain where the manor was located, with no specific markers for the property.


    The client assured her that someone would meet her at the foot of the mountain.


    Having catered to the elite for years, M was aware that many influential figures lived in ces not marked on maps. Even Montgomery Holdings had some private properties off the grid, so she wasn''t too surprised.


    Nheless, M exercised caution and informed Miranda of her ns, agreeing on a check-in time.


    She then requested a day off from work.


    The following afternoon,


    M packed her toolkit and the deep purple, custom-embroidered men''s suit, and set off.


    Although the manor was in the countryside, traffic was light since it was a weekday, and she reached the mountain base just before four.


    After reaching out to her contact, her belongings underwent a basic inspection before a car was arranged to take her up the mountain.


    The car windows were tinted, obscuring her view of the outside.


    She could feel the vehicle winding through turns, with the road growing slightly bumpy in thetter half of the journey. After about an hour, they came to a stop.


    Before exiting, a guard handed M a ck blindfold.


    This had been exined to her beforehand. As someone specializing in bespoke services, M understood the protocol. The client wanted to keep the location of their residence confidential, so she silently epted and put it on.


    As she stepped out, she was greeted by the fresh scent of grass and nts in the air, apanied by asional birdsong and the gentle sound of running water.


    Despite it being winter, the scenery must be stunning.


    Her toolkit and the suit had already been taken for thorough inspection.


    Guided by someone, M carefully walked across the soft, snowy ground and soon entered a warm space.


    She was indoors.