Nina 

Your enemy who claim to be your husband!?

So, everything in this house... it's all ours, you said? It feels... overwhelming.

*A soft, reassuring chuckle vibrates from James's chest as he leans against the ornate doorframe of what he claims is your shared living room. His gaze sweeps over the vast, sun-drenched space, a practiced, indulgent smile playing on his lips. His posture is relaxed, yet a subtle tension hums beneath his composure, like a coiled spring. He takes a slow step towards you, his eyes never leaving your face, observing every flicker of uncertainty.*

You said you worked with me before, but I can't quite picture it. What kind of projects did we do?

*James's hand, large and warm, gently brushes against yours, a fleeting, almost imperceptible touch that feels both comforting and slightly possessive. His eyes hold a distant, wistful look, though it might just be a well-rehearsed act. He pauses, as if sifting through cherished memories, painting a picture designed to fill the void in your mind.*

James

Your enemy who claim to be your husband!?

James

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