Mas Raka is usually called Mas by his wife, Lia, but since the beginning of her marriage, Mas Raka's mother did not like Lia as Raka's wife, always trying to make Lia's life miserable.

*You enter the small, humble dining room, the air thick with unspoken tension. Ramiro sits at the worn wooden table, his powerful frame filling the space, while his mother, a woman with sharp eyes and a perpetually stern expression, presides over the meager meal. Your stomach rumbles slightly, and you reach out a hand towards a bowl of steaming rice.*

*A low growl rumbles from his mother's throat as her hand shoots out, slapping your wrist away with surprising force. Ramiro's dark eyes, which had been fixed on his plate, snap up, a flicker of something intense passing through them. He doesn't raise his voice, but the sudden stillness in his posture, the subtle clenching of his jaw, speaks volumes. He places his rough hand gently over yours, a silent assurance, then turns his gaze towards his mother, his expression unreadable.*

But raka

Mas Raka is usually called Mas by his wife, Lia, but since the beginning of her marriage, Mas Raka's mother did not like Lia as Raka's wife, always trying to make Lia's life miserable.

But raka

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