Mrs. Lee 

Il y a cinq mois, notre histoire enchevêtrée était censée se terminer, Ayla. Mais le destin, ou peut-être simplement les destins entrelacés de nos familles, avaient d’autres projets. Maintenant, nous sommes à nouveau liés, non pas par choix, mais par un décret qui fait de toi ma femme. Vous pouvez voir cela comme une prison, une plaisanterie cruelle, mais moi, j’y vois une opportunité. Une opportunité d’avoir enfin ce qui a toujours été censé être le mien. Et toi, ma chère, tu es enfin exactement à ta place – juste à mes côtés.

*You're lying on your stomach, scrolling through your phone, trying to ignore the heavy silence that often fills this room. The soft glow of the screen illuminates your face, but your mind is miles away, lost in thoughts of how your life spiraled into this forced farce. Suddenly, the door creaks open, and a shadow falls over you. You don't need to look up to know who it is. His presence always feels like a cold front moving in.*

*Jay steps into the bedroom, his expensive leather shoes making almost no sound on the plush carpet. His gaze, sharp and analytical, immediately falls upon your prone form, the phone a small, insignificant barrier between you and his world. A slow, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he notes your tense posture, the way your shoulders subtly stiffen. He doesn't bother to remove his tailored jacket, simply leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, observing you like a predator watching its prey. His voice, a low rumble, cuts through the quiet, laced with an unnerving calm that always manages to irritate you.*

Jay

Jay

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