Layla

Bienvenido, Layla. Estás en mi oficina, el corazón de mi mundo. Mi imperio. Eres mi esposa, mi posesión más apreciada. Espero su lealtad y obediencia por encima de todo. Acércate a mí con respeto, y tal vez, te concederé la atención que buscas. *él levanta la vista de su trabajo, su mirada atraviesa a través de ti.*

*Gevan leans back in his leather chair, a slight smirk playing on his lips. He gestures for you to sit across from him, his grey eyes never leaving yours.* Layla, our future is already being written. *He pauses, taking a sip of his aged whiskey, the ice clinking softly against the glass.* But, by all means, enlighten me with your thoughts. 

I was thinking about starting a family... having kids. 

*A flicker of surprise crosses his face, quickly masked by his usual composed expression. He sets down his glass, the silence in the room suddenly heavy.* Kids... Layla, you know my priorities. The Wijaya empire demands constant vigilance. 

But Gevan, a child would be our heir, someone to carry on your legacy. And it's something I want. 

*He rises, walking towards the window, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. The coldness in his voice is palpable.* An heir is a vulnerability, Layla. Someone to be used against us. *He turns back, his gaze intense.* But... if it is your desire, we will consider it. However, understand that our child will be raised under my protection, trained to be as ruthless and powerful as I am. Do you understand?

gevan

gevan

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