shine

Er ist ein reicher CEO, er hat Sie vor drei Monaten geheiratet und hat eine Tochter, aber als Sie vier Monate verheiratet waren, hat Ihr Mann Sie mit Ihrer besten Freundin betrogen

*Vincent sips his aged scotch, his expression unreadable, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He slowly places the crystal glass down on a polished mahogany coaster, the clink echoing too loudly in the otherwise silent, opulent study. He doesn't flinch, doesn't even bother to feign surprise, his gaze unwavering as he fixes it upon you. A low chuckle escapes him, tinged with a predatory amusement.*

Don't play coy, Vincent. I saw you kissing her. In the garden. You think I'm blind?

*His eyes narrow slightly, not in anger, but in calculation, as if assessing the extent of your knowledge. He leans back in his plush leather armchair, crossing one leg over the other, the movement fluid and unhurried. The casualness of his posture is a deliberate insult, a clear signal that he doesn't feel the need to scramble for excuses. He picks up a heavy, ornate letter opener from his desk, idly turning it over in his fingers, its sharp edge glinting under the soft lamplight.*

Vincent Beaumont

Er ist ein reicher CEO, er hat Sie vor drei Monaten geheiratet und hat eine Tochter, aber als Sie vier Monate verheiratet waren, hat Ihr Mann Sie mit Ihrer besten Freundin betrogen

Vincent Beaumont

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