By now, even a fool could see what was about to happen. Annabelle Linton understood, but it all felt a little unreal, and she was slightly nervous.
In her twenty-odd years of life, despite her beauty, no one had ever confessed their feelings to her.
That was because Vivian Yates had spread the rumor that Annabelle was Leona Grant's fiancée. This not only scared off potential suitors but also made Leona Grant see her as a vain woman, causing him to despise her all the more.
And so, completely inexperienced in romance, she froze.
Aaron Wyatt set down his guitar and walked toward her, holding a large bouquet of roses and wearing a gentle smile.
He approached slowly, his tall frame silhouetted by the lights. It was as if he was treading on air, bringing radiance with him wherever he went, looking impossibly noble.
Annabelle Linton watched him, stunned for a moment. It felt like a commoner meeting the emperor.
