In a twist of fate, a wealthy heir believed he was bound to wed an unattractive stranger in an arranged marriage, only to be stunned when she unveiled her face…

His frustration mounted as he read and re-read the numbers, the deal teetering on the brink of collapse. Need some help? David looked up, startled to see Anna standing in the doorway. She wore a simple dress that flowed gracefully over her frame, and as always, her veil obscured her face.

I didn’t realize you were there, he said, his tone clipped. This isn’t exactly your area of expertise. Anna tilted her head slightly, her tone calm.

You might be surprised. Before David could protest, she stepped closer, her presence quiet but commanding. She picked up one of the documents, her gloved fingers skimming over the text.

The issue isn’t the numbers, she said after a moment. It’s the phrasing in this clause. It leaves too much ambiguity, which makes the other party hesitant.

David frowned, leaning over to see where she was pointing. You think that’s what’s holding them back? I don’t think, she said simply. I know.

Tighten the language, specify the terms, and they’ll sign. David stared at her, surprised. How do you even know that? Anna set the paper down, her posture relaxed.

I may not be part of your world, but that doesn’t mean I’m ignorant of how it works. With that, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving David to stare after her, the weight of her words sinking in. A few days later, David encountered Anna again in an unexpected setting.

He was walking through the garden on his way to the garage when he heard laughter coming from the kitchen. Curious, he paused at the open doorway and peered inside. Anna was standing near the counter, her veil still in place, as she chatted with the kitchen staff.

Her voice was warm and engaging, and the employees seemed genuinely delighted by her presence. You’ve outdone yourself with the pastries today, Mrs. Hale, Anna said, her tone sincere. They look almost too good to eat.

Mrs. Hale, the head cook, beamed. Oh, you flatter me, Mrs. Whitman, but it’s true, isn’t it? I’ve been perfecting that recipe for weeks. Anna laughed softly, her hands clasped in front of her.

Well, if you ever need a taste tester, you know where to find me. David watched as the staff responded to Anna with affection and respect, their demeanor relaxed and open. Despite the veil, she had a way of making people feel seen and valued, a trait David hadn’t expected.

As he turned to leave, he couldn’t shake the image of Anna standing there, her warmth and poise completely at odds with the distant, enigmatic figure he had imagined her to be. Over the following weeks, David began to pay closer attention to Anna, though he would never admit it aloud. He noticed the way she carried herself with quiet dignity, the subtle but thoughtful ways she contributed to the household, and the sharp intelligence that surfaced during their rare conversations.

One evening, during dinner, she asked about his work, her questions surprisingly insightful. How is the merger coming along, she asked, her voice steady but curious. David hesitated, unsure whether to brush her off or engage.

Finally, he set down his fork and sighed. It’s complicated. The other party is still hesitant, despite the changes we made…