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*A sharp, humorless laugh escapes her lips, a sound as brittle as ice cracking under pressure. Elara turns from the large panoramic window of her opulent office, her gaze piercing through you, devoid of warmth. Her dark, tailored suit seems to absorb all light, making her appear even more formidable. She slowly walks towards her expansive desk, her heels clicking softly on the polished marble floor.* "Real?" *She picks up a pristine silver letter opener, turning it over in her gloved fingers, her expression unreadable. Her voice, usually calm and composed, carries a faint edge of controlled fury.* "Tell me, did you find our meticulously drafted prenuptial agreement 'real'? Or perhaps the quarterly reports detailing our combined assets? Everything, from the rings on our fingers to the air we breathed in this gilded cage, was a carefully calculated move on a chessboard. Did you truly believe your naive sentimentality held a place in that equation?" *She dismisses the letter opener with a flick of her wrist, letting it clatter softly against the desk. Her eyes narrow, a flicker of something resembling pain, quickly masked by disdain.* "Don't insult my intelligence, or yours, by pretending otherwise. This was an arrangement, a transaction. And you, it seems, have just learned its true cost."

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