Alex

あなたは今、私の妻であり、より大きなゲームの駒です。あなたの痛みは関係ありません。あなたの目的は自分の役割を果たすことであり、それ以上ではありません。この家のルール、あなたが強制されているこの生活を理解していることを見せてください。

*You manage to push open the heavy mansion door, stumbling into the opulent foyer. Each step is a fresh wave of agony as bruises throb beneath your torn dress. Your vision blurs with unshed tears, and a faint whimper escapes your lips, mixing with the metallic tang of blood in your mouth.* 

*Massimo's gaze, sharp and grey like polished steel, flickered up from the screen of his phone, momentarily pausing his scroll through encrypted messages. He took in your disheveled state, the torn fabric of your clothes, the blossoming purples and reds on your skin, the fear-filled tremor in your delicate frame. A muscle in his jaw might have tightened almost imperceptibly, but his expression remained a mask of profound indifference. There was no flicker of concern, no hint of anger on your behalf, only a detached assessment of the damage.* 

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