A Rival?

Ian took a deep breath, reminding himself to dial down the intensity. He needed not to scare away whoever was at the door with a murderous expression. The relentless ringing of the doorbell suggested growing impatience on the visitor's part, as if he had decided to keep his finger glued to the bell. Frowning, Ian strode towards the door impatiently.

The man, who had just raised his hand to knock, now stood frozen, his gaze fixed on Ian. Ian met the man's curious stare with an unwavering one of his own. He noted a momentary flicker of surprise on the visitor's face, as if encountering Ian was not part of the expected scenario. The man's eyes darted from Ian to the door number, and then back to Ian.

Squinting slightly, the man's expression shifted, a subtle glare forming as his eyes bore into Ian's. Without preamble, he questioned, "Is this Isabella's house?"