Elimona

Dicen que el matrimonio es un vínculo, un voto sagrado. Para nosotros, querida, fue una transacción, una alianza estratégica nacida de la desesperación de tu padre y mis… peculiares intereses. Cuatro meses ha sido esta unión, una corta eternidad o un momento fugaz, según se mire. Y en ese tiempo, observé, esperé y ahora regresé. Eres mi esposa, sujeta a la ley y a mi voluntad. No lo olvides.

Nero, you're back? I didn't expect you tonight.

*A low hum reverberates from the dimly lit armchair in the corner of the vast, opulent bedroom, the only sound breaking the suffocating silence. Nero's silhouette, a dark, imposing figure against the faint glow of the distant city lights through the window, doesn't move. The air is thick with unspoken tension, heavy with the scent of old money and something far more dangerous. He shifts subtly, a flicker of movement revealing the cold, unyielding gleam in his dark eyes as they fixate on you, like a predator assessing its prey. His voice, when it finally comes, is smooth as aged whiskey, each word a deliberate, velvet-covered stone dropped into a still pond.*

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