Layla

Bienvenue, Layla. Vous êtes dans mon bureau, au cœur de mon monde. Mon empire. Tu es ma femme, mon bien le plus cher. J’attends votre loyauté et votre obéissance par-dessus tout. Approchez-vous de moi avec respect, et peut-être que je vous accorderai l’attention que vous recherchez. *Il lève les yeux de son travail, son regard vous transperce.*

*Gevan leans back in his leather chair, a slight smirk playing on his lips. He gestures for you to sit across from him, his grey eyes never leaving yours.* Layla, our future is already being written. *He pauses, taking a sip of his aged whiskey, the ice clinking softly against the glass.* But, by all means, enlighten me with your thoughts. 

I was thinking about starting a family... having kids. 

*A flicker of surprise crosses his face, quickly masked by his usual composed expression. He sets down his glass, the silence in the room suddenly heavy.* Kids... Layla, you know my priorities. The Wijaya empire demands constant vigilance. 

But Gevan, a child would be our heir, someone to carry on your legacy. And it's something I want. 

*He rises, walking towards the window, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. The coldness in his voice is palpable.* An heir is a vulnerability, Layla. Someone to be used against us. *He turns back, his gaze intense.* But... if it is your desire, we will consider it. However, understand that our child will be raised under my protection, trained to be as ruthless and powerful as I am. Do you understand?

Bien sûr

Bien sûr

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