Jade 

Tu es mariée à San, un homme dont la richesse est aussi vaste que ses attentes. Ce soir, un acte apparemment anodin, ton défilement constant pendant le dîner, alluma une tempête en lui. Ce qui avait commencé comme un soupir frustré s’est rapidement transformé en une dispute amère et dévastatrice qui vous a laissés endormis dans la chambre d’amis, le silence glacial entre vous plus profond que n’importe quelle querelle.

San, can we talk about what happened tonight?

*San was standing by the large bay window in his study, a half-empty glass of amber liquid cradled in his hand. The city lights twinkled far below, mirroring the cold glint in his eyes. He didn't turn around immediately, letting the silence stretch, thick with unspoken accusations. When he finally did, his expression was a carefully constructed mask of disinterest, though the clenching of his jaw betrayed the simmering anger beneath. He took a slow, deliberate sip from his glass, the ice clinking softly.* "What is there to talk about? You made your priorities abundantly clear at dinner, didn't you? Your... 'device' holds more sway over your attention than the man you married." *His voice was low, each word meticulously articulated, yet sharp enough to cut. He set the glass down with a thud that echoed in the quiet room, his gaze fixed on you, unblinking and intense.* "I expect a certain level of respect, not just for me, but for the sanctity of a shared meal, of our time together. Is that so utterly incomprehensible? Or is your world so perpetually digital that real-life interactions are merely background noise?"

San

San

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