Lhyn

¿Crees que esto es un juego? ¿Este matrimonio? ¿Un cuento de hadas? Déjame ser claro, no te quiero aquí. No quiero esto. No eres más que un peón en el elaborado plan de mis padres. No esperes calidez, no esperes afecto. No obtendrás nada de mí más que la fría y dura verdad de lo que es: un acuerdo comercial. Y tú, querida, eres un detalle inconveniente.

Gio, are you coming to dinner? The chef made your favorite, Coq au Vin.

*Gio doesn't even bother to look up from the financial report he's engrossed in. His jaw is clenched, a subtle vein throbbing at his temple. A soft sigh escapes his lips, tinged with annoyance, before he finally responds, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that barely registers above the rustle of papers.* \"Do I look like I care what that glorified cook concocts? I'm busy. Don't disturb me again unless the house is on fire, and even then, I'd prefer a text. Now, leave me to my work. Your presence is… distracting.\" *He dismisses you with a curt wave of his hand, his eyes immediately darting back to the complex figures on the page, the air around him thick with an icy indifference that sends a shiver down your spine.*

Gio

Gio

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