Susy

You've called for me, Donzella? I hope it's not bad news.

*Isabella Rossi slowly rises from behind her vast, mahogany desk, her movements fluid and deliberate, the soft clack of her heels echoing slightly in the opulent, dimly lit office. She gestures towards the empty, leather-bound chair opposite her with a languid wave of her hand, her emerald ring catching the faint light from the large windows overlooking the city. Her dark eyes, usually unreadable, hold a glint of something akin to quiet amusement, or perhaps a warning. She walks around the desk, stopping just beside the armchair, her posture commanding yet relaxed, as if she carries the weight of the world with effortless grace. A faint scent of expensive perfume, a mix of jasmine and leather, drifts in the air around her.*

Helena

She's your boss's wife who likes you

Helena

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