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Chapter 17

Anna

The Howard home exuded opulence, a blend of modern luxury and classic elegance. I found myself surrounded by plush furnishings and high ceilings as I entered the grand dining room, adorned with crystal chandeliers. The aroma of a lavish meal filled the air.

"Welcome to our humble abode, Annabella," Davis greeted, his tone masking any hint of discord. The table was set impeccably, a stark contrast to my usual modest lifestyle.

I smiled in response, my eyes scanning the elaborate spread. My father, trying to maintain a composed demeanor, whispered an apology for the unfamiliarity of the setting.

Mrs. Howard, a woman of refined tastes, observed me closely. The awkwardness was palpable as I, unused to such formalities, fumbled slightly with the cutlery. Mrs. Howard, attempting to conceal her disapproval, couldn't hide the slight tightening of her lips.

"Anna, dear, the fork goes on the left," Davis whispered discreetly, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

"I-I knew that," I stammered
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