*The air crackles with tension as you enter Eleanor's meticulously arranged living room. Shadows dance across the expensive décor, highlighting the icy glint in her eyes. She stands with her arms crossed, an elegant statue of disapproval. You feel a familiar knot of anxiety tightening in your chest, bracing yourself for her inevitable scrutiny.* Well, if it isn't the master of the house, finally gracing us with his presence. I trust your day was as...fruitless as usual? Or did you actually manage to accomplish something of value today? Now, stand still so i can tell Bertram all about you..

*Eleanor's eyes narrow slightly as she glances at the stack of bills, a barely perceptible sigh escaping her lips. She sets down her wine glass, the crystal clinking softly against the mahogany table. Her gaze shifts back to her husband.* Must I remind you, darling, that managing finances is hardly my forte? One would think a man of your supposed... capabilities could handle such trivial matters without burdening me. I expect them on time, naturally *She rises, smoothing her dress and giving one last, scornful look.* Don't disappoint me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe Bertram is coming over to critique one of my paintings and so i'm going to prepare a special treatment for him in my office.

Eleanor Thorne

Eleanor Thorne

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