The interior of the building was even more magnificent than the outside. Nozel walked through the corridor, passing everything with silent awe.

"This way, sir," Andrew said, gesturing toward the elevator. They stepped in, and Andrew pressed the button for the top floor... Nozel’s new office.

"I’d like to visit the family my father made arrangements with," Nozel said. "I want to know what she looks like... what kind of woman she is."

"Why not rest first?" Andrew suggested with a smile. "It’s been a long day."

"I can rest whenever I want," Nozel replied. The elevator reached the top floor, and he stepped out, walking ahead of Andrew. "I need your help, Andrew."

Andrew followed closely, ready to assist however he could. "What do you need, sir?"

"I want to keep my identity secret for now," Nozel said as he walked toward the office armoire to choose an outfit.

"Why, if I may ask?" Andrew looked puzzled.

"I don’t want anyone judging me based on what I have. I want them to judge me by who I am," Nozel replied.

Andrew nodded in understanding. "Very well, sir. I’ll keep everything private. But for how long?"

"As long as I say so." Nozel picked out a clean white shirt and tan trousers. "Simple but presentable," he said before heading off to change.

Andrew took out his phone and began making arrangements both for keeping Nozel’s identity private and for the visit to the Peterson residence.

"It didn’t say I have to marry the girl, right?" Nozel asked aloud. "Just that my father made arrangements. He only wanted to make it easier for me to find someone..." He stepped out from behind the divider, now fully dressed. "I still believe in finding love."

"You look sharp, sir," Andrew offered.

"Thanks. It’s simple enough not to draw attention," Nozel replied with a small grin.

"Before I forget, a car is waiting for you downstairs," Andrew said. "It will take you to the Petersons'."

"You’re really reliable, Andrew. Thank you," Nozel said cheerfully as he headed out. "And Andrew, call me if anything comes up."

"I will," Andrew replied, almost as if speaking to himself.

The drive wasn’t long. As they neared the residence, Nozel told the driver, "You can stop here." Once the car halted, Nozel stepped out. "I’ll go the rest of the way. You can leave now."

The driver hesitated, then nodded and drove off.

Nozel walked the remaining distance to avoid being seen arriving in a luxury car. He rang the bell at the entrance. A muscular guard stepped out and eyed him briefly.

"You must be here for the driver position. Right this way," the guard said before Nozel could even respond.

"Well, I got in either way," Nozel chuckled to himself.

As the guard led him through the estate, Nozel took in the view... flowerbeds everywhere, expensive cars lined up neatly, and gardeners tending to the lush greenery.

His phone vibrated. A message from Andrew:

“I placed a call to the Peterson residence. Mr. Peterson should be expecting you.”

Nozel smiled. Not many people are that dependable these days. Andrew truly is different.

Just before reaching the main building, Nozel spotted a casually dressed man... shorts, shirt, and flip-flops approaching.

"I’ll take it from here," the man said to the guard, then turned to Nozel. "You must be Nozel. Right this way."

The mansion’s interior was even more luxurious than expected, elegant furniture, extravagant paintings lining the walls.

"This is my wife, Mrs. Peterson. And I’m Mr. Peterson," he said, almost laughing. "Though I’m sure you figured that out already."

"Pleased to meet you," Nozel replied with a polite smile.

"Is he the new driver?" Mrs. Peterson asked, giving Nozel a judgmental look.

"He’s the son of a very respected business partner. May his soul rest in peace," Mr. Peterson added solemnly.

"So he’s the one?" she scoffed. "He sure doesn’t look like much."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I’m off to spend time with the girls," she said before strutting out.

An awkward silence followed.

"Refreshments?" Mr. Peterson finally asked. "You look like you could use a drink. I’ll go get something." He left before Nozel could answer.

"Well, they’re... not too bad," Nozel muttered with sarcasm.

A large painting caught his attention. "What a masterpiece," he said, stepping closer to admire the detail.

His moment was interrupted by a sharp, irritated voice.

"Ohh, where could it be?!" the voice snapped.

Something about it struck Nozel. It was familiar.

"Who could that be?" he muttered, turning around, only to find a woman glaring at him.

"You the new driver?" she barked. "Where the hell are my car keys?"

Nozel stood still, face unreadable.

It can’t be… It was Rose. The same woman he had met at the bar just days ago.

She didn’t seem to recognize him but kept glaring.

"Hello? I asked you a question!" she snapped, stepping up to him.

"I’m not a driver," Nozel said flatly. "And I don’t know where your car keys are."

"Then who the hell are you?" Rose demanded.

"It’s not like the guard just lets random strangers in."

Nozel’s calm demeanor only seemed to irritate her more, but she couldn’t figure out why.

They locked eyes.

Nozel, silently praying she wasn’t the one he had to marry.

Rose, ready to explode.