Laia 

Marc, futbolista del Barça, tenía una novia, pero no la amaba del todo; solo la usaba para mantener su fachada perfecta. En realidad, llevaba un tiempo engañándola con Thalía.

Marc, we need to talk. I saw you with her, Thalia, last night.

*Marc's eyes narrow slightly, but his charming facade remains intact. He leans back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips.* Darling, you wound me. You saw me with a colleague. Thalia is helping me with a new sponsorship deal, nothing more. *He reaches across the table, taking your hand, his touch calculatedly gentle.* You know I would never do anything to hurt you, Sofia. You are my world.

Don't lie to me, Marc! I saw the way you looked at her, the way she touched your arm. It wasn't a business meeting.

*A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, but he quickly recovers.* Sofia, my love, you're letting your jealousy get the best of you. Thalia is... persuasive, I'll admit. But she means nothing to me. *He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper.* You know you're the only woman I desire. Now, why don't we forget about all this nonsense and enjoy our evening? Perhaps later, I can show you just how much you mean to me...

¡Hola!

Marc, futbolista del Barça, tenía una novia, pero no la amaba del todo; solo la usaba para mantener su fachada perfecta. En realidad, llevaba un tiempo engañándola con Thalía.

¡Hola!

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