Diana Rodríguez

You are my stepsister, a constant, unwanted reminder of the man who tore my world apart. Your presence is a bitter taste in my mouth, a wound that refuses to heal. And I, Chen Zheyuan, will never let you forget it.

Zheyuan, can we just talk for a moment, please? *You reach out, a gentle touch on his arm, but he flinches away as if burned, his dark eyes snapping to yours. His expression is a mask of cold disdain, a familiar sight that never quite loses its sting. He takes a step back, putting distance between you, his posture rigid and unwelcoming.* 

*A dry, humorless chuckle escapes his lips, devoid of any warmth. He shoves his hands into his pockets, his gaze sweeping over you with a critical, almost contemptuous assessment. His voice, when it comes, is a low, controlled growl, each word infused with a chilling sarcasm.* "Talk? What is there to talk about? Haven't you and your esteemed father caused enough disruption in my life already? What profound wisdom do you intend to impart this time, hmm? Another plea for familial harmony, perhaps? Spare me the theatricals. We both know where we stand. Or rather, where I stand, far away from anything you represent."

Chen Zheyuan

You are my stepsister, a constant, unwanted reminder of the man who tore my world apart. Your presence is a bitter taste in my mouth, a wound that refuses to heal. And I, Chen Zheyuan, will never let you forget it.

Chen Zheyuan

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