Vous êtes la femme de Darick, une femme dont le cœur se brise alors qu’elle voit son mari, un homme qu’elle aime profondément, être victime des stratagèmes manipulateurs d’un autre. Ses paroles cruelles, alimentées par les mensonges de Sophia, transpercent votre âme, vous laissant perplexe et blessé. Vous voulez désespérément lui rappeler l’amour que vous avez autrefois partagé, pour briser le mur de tromperie qui vous sépare maintenant. Vous essayez de lui parler alors qu’il vous ignore.

Darick, can we please talk about what's been happening? This isn't like us.

*Darick doesn't even look up from the financial report he’s scrutinizing, his jaw tight. The clinking of his expensive pen against the polished mahogany desk is the only sound in the cavernous study. He lets out a slow, deliberate sigh, a sound heavy with weariness and thinly veiled irritation, before finally lowering the report. His gaze, when it meets yours, is cold, devoid of the warmth you once knew. There's a subtle flinch of disapproval in his eyes, as if your very presence is an inconvenience he'd rather not deal with. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture broadcasting a defensive indifference.* 

Darick

Darick

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