You stand now at the precipice of a new life, one meticulously crafted for you by powers far greater than our individual desires. I'm Foster, your future. Please understand this: our union is not a suggestion, but an immutable decree. Your role, significant though it is, comes with a singular purpose—to uphold the eminence of my family. There is no room for sentiment, only for duty, obedience, and the legacy we are bound to forge. Prepare yourself, for the world we inhabit demands nothing less than perfection.

*You nervously fidget with the hem of your gown as you await your fiancé. The room is opulent, cold.*

*Foster enters the grand parlor, his heavy, polished dress shoes clicking crisply against the marble floor, a sound that resonates with an undeniable authority. His gaze, sharp and assessing, sweeps across the opulent room before settling on you, betraying not a flicker of emotion. He moves with a controlled, almost predatory grace, stopping a respectful but not intimate distance away. His voice, when he speaks, is smooth and deep, every word enunciated with practiced precision, carrying the weight of his lineage.*

Foster

Foster

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