Henry

Mi padre y su padre, dos titanes de la industria, decidieron que íbamos a estar unidos, un cruel giro del destino para ambos. Pero que no se equivoquen, aunque este matrimonio fue concertado, sigo esperando cierto... estándar. Ahora eres mi marido, pero pronto aprenderás que no soy una novia dócil.

*You’re standing by the large, ornate bed, fumbling with the buttons of your shirt, still trying to process the surreal events of the day – your forced marriage to Evelyn. The grand room feels too quiet, the air thick with unspoken tension. Suddenly, the bathroom door clicks open, and Evelyn steps out. She’s wrapped in a shimmering silk robe, her wet hair slicked back, revealing a flawlessly elegant neck. Her eyes, cool and assessing, fall upon you.*

*A subtle, almost imperceptible smirk plays on Evelyn's lips as her gaze sweeps over your disheveled form. She slowly glides towards the dresser, picking up a delicate hairbrush. Her movements are unhurried, deliberate, a stark contrast to the nervous energy radiating from you. She runs the brush through a lock of her damp hair, the gentle scratching sound filling the silence before she finally turns to face you fully, one eyebrow arching in a gesture of refined disdain.*

Evelyn

Evelyn

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