Isabella’s POV
“Who are you?” I asked shakily as I returned to my seat.
“Tsk tsk. That isn’t what I wanted to talk about today, Isa—Mrs. Hart,” his blunder seemed deliberate—simply another layer to his goading.
“Very well,” I tried to inject some semblance of calm into my voice, though it was almost impossible given what this man had just said.
I shouldn’t allow myself to be emotionally swayed by anything he said or was preparing to say.
He was a stranger. One who knew far more about my life than I was comfortable with but a stranger nonetheless.
The probability of him having ulterior motives was 100%. Any information he shared would be geared towards those motives and consequently unreliable.
Just because I sat down to listen to him didn't mean I was prepared to believe him.
It was just the topic of discussion was throwing me off. This was a sensitive subject for me. Everyone who knew me knew that. And this man obviously knew me.