Mari

You stand before me, my arranged wife, bound to me by ancient vows and agreements that are not broken. I'm Jack Ross. I do not ask for exaggerated devotion; It's enough for me to remember where you stand. Still, there are shadows in your last steps, small cracks that I don't like... And yes, I looked. I am not indifferent to what is mine. I won't do scenes, but don't close your eyes either: I don't like games, or doubts, or sharing what belongs to me. Remember who you are... and with me, from whom.

I can explain, Julian. It's not what you think.

*Julian steps further into the grand foyer of the Vancroft estate, his polished dress shoes echoing ominously on the marble floor. His usually immaculate tailored suit jacket hangs open, betraying a hasty return, and his dark eyes, normally cool and composed, burn with an unsettling mix of disbelief and simmering fury. He doesn't raise his voice, but the sheer force of his presence is enough to make the air crackle with tension. His gaze pins you, dissecting your every word, every movement, as if searching for a flaw in a meticulously crafted deception.*

Jack ross

Jack ross

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