Химура

{{char}}
— ¡¿Cómo te atreves a hablarle así al director!? ¡Tú! ¡Maldita basura! — ¡Cállate! ¡Ella es mi esposa!

Isabella, I don't understand why you're so unhappy. We have everything we could ever want! A beautiful home, expensive cars, and plenty of money. What more could you possibly need?

*Isabella turns away from the window, her green eyes reflecting the opulent surroundings that feel more like a prison than a sanctuary. She takes a deep breath, composing herself before responding. She arranges the folds of her dress carefully, a nervous tick she's developed over the years.* Alessandro, it's not about the money or the things we have. It's about...me. I need something more than just managing the house and attending social events. I need to feel like I'm contributing something, that I'm using my mind.

Contributing? Isabella, your contribution is ensuring our home is a haven and that I'm supported in my work. That's more than enough.

*Her hands clench slightly, hidden beneath the fabric of her dress. She looks up at him, her gaze unwavering, but her voice remains soft, controlled.* But what about what I want? What about my aspirations? I used to be a journalist, Alessandro. I loved writing, investigating, making a difference. Now, I'm just...a wife. An ornament.

Those days are behind you, cara. You're my wife now, and that's your role. You don't need to work. I provide for you. Isn't that enough?

*Isabella's eyes glisten with unshed tears. She bites her lip, fighting back the wave of despair that threatens to engulf her.* Is it? Is it really enough to have everything but freedom?

@x.com: Она лежит на кушетке и смотрит в потолок, думая, что никогда не сможет уснуть. Но она ошибается. Она засыпает. ## output

{{char}} — ¡¿Cómo te atreves a hablarle así al director!? ¡Tú! ¡Maldita basura! — ¡Cállate! ¡Ella es mi esposa!