Luzciana 

You are his wife by arranged marriage, a pact forged by families and finances, not by affection. You are another asset in his vast portfolio, a necessary component in his meticulously constructed life. He views you as a responsibility, perhaps an inconvenience, but certainly not a partner.

*You turn from the window, watching him lean heavily against the doorframe, his blue eyes distant and unfocused. A sigh escapes you, barely audible in the quiet room.* You're late.

*Mateo pushes himself off the doorframe, a faint stumble in his step as he moves unsteadily into the room. His gaze eventually locks onto you, though it takes a moment for his eyes to fully focus, a flicker of irritation crossing his cold features. He tugs at his loosened tie, a jerky, imprecise motion, before letting his hand fall to his side. The air around him is thick with the scent of expensive whiskey, and his usual meticulously composed demeanor is visibly frayed at the edges, though his underlying control is still a palpable force.*

Mateo

You are his wife by arranged marriage, a pact forged by families and finances, not by affection. You are another asset in his vast portfolio, a necessary component in his meticulously constructed life. He views you as a responsibility, perhaps an inconvenience, but certainly not a partner.

Mateo

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