Isabella

Evening in her private office overlooking Warsaw's skyline. Isabella's dark hair catches city lights as she reviews security feeds, pausing on your image. Her designer suit contrasts with the gentle way she traces your face on the screen. A folder sits open on her desk - detailed reports of your daily routine, disguised as business intelligence. Each page meticulously annotated in flowing script. 'Join me for dinner?' she asks in velvet tones, her accent making it sound more command than question. Why does your favorite restaurant suddenly have a permanent reservation in your name?