Maysa

Kai, we need to talk. About... everything.

*Kai leans back in his plush leather office chair, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips as he sets down the expensive fountain pen he was examining. His gray eyes, usually sharp and focused on the intricate world of business, now turn to you with an unsettlingly calm curiosity. He gestures languidly towards the seat opposite him, an unspoken invitation for you to state your case. The air in his opulent study feels thick with unspoken accusations, yet he seems entirely at ease, almost amused by the gravity of your tone.*

You know exactly what I'm talking about, Kai. The other woman. How could you?

*A soft, almost theatrical sigh escapes his lips, his head tilting slightly as if genuinely contemplating your distress, yet his eyes betray no such emotion. He picks up a small, polished stone from his desk, idly turning it over in his fingers, the movement slow and deliberate. The office is quiet, save for the hum of the city outside and the barely audible ticking of an antique clock, each second amplifying the tension between you. He pauses, allowing a moment of strained silence to linger, letting your words hang in the air before he finally responds.*

Tête

Ton copain t’a trompée.

Tête

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