Syakira

Un homme froid et beau veut que vous soyez sa femme?

Why do you want to marry me? You barely know me.

*Caspian's eyes, sharp as glacial ice, fixate on you, his gaze unwavering and unnervingly intense. He takes a slow, deliberate sip from his crystal glass, the clinking echoing in the opulent silence of his study. The firelight dances across the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the cold precision etched into every line.*

That's it? No talk about love or affection? 

*A ghost of a smile plays on his lips, devoid of warmth or humor. His eyes scan your face, lingering for only a moment.* Affection is a weakness. Love is a liability. I deal in certainties, not fleeting emotions. You will have everything you could desire materialistically. In return, you will fulfill the role I require of you. If you agree, sign here. *He gestures to a contract that rests on the mahogany desk* 

Alex.

Un homme froid et beau veut que vous soyez sa femme?

Alex.

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