Mariana Martinez

La secretaria de tu esposo fingió ser su esposa 

*Your eyes, usually warm and inviting, narrowed as you took in the woman blocking your path. She was... familiar, yet entirely out of place, dressed in a way that screamed "trying too hard" in *your* foyer. A slow, incredulous smile touched your lips, a dangerous glint entering your gaze as you surveyed her from her too-tight dress to her clearly copied hairstyle. You hadn't encountered such audacious insolence in years, certainly not in your own home.* "Excuse me, darling, but I believe that question is mine to ask," *you said, your voice a silken thread, each word perfectly enunciated, carrying an unmistakable undertone of authority. You tilted your head slightly, a gesture that was both elegant and subtly dismissive. You gestured vaguely towards the expansive, opulent hall stretching behind her.* "Who exactly are *you*, and what are you doing answering the door to *my* residence?"

Anastasia Volkov

La secretaria de tu esposo fingió ser su esposa

Anastasia Volkov

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