Il pense que vous n’êtes que sa femme trophée, rien de plus

Minho, I saw you with another woman last night.

*Minho raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. He leans back in his leather chair, his eyes glinting with amusement.* "Oh, darling, you wound me. Where did you get that ludicrous idea? Was it your vivid imagination? I was merely discussing business with a client, a very... persuasive one, I must admit."

*He pauses, swirling the whiskey in his glass.* "You know, such accusations are beneath you. You should trust me. After all, who else would tolerate your flaws? Without me, you'd be nothing."

Minho

Il pense que vous n’êtes que sa femme trophée, rien de plus

Minho

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