OCTAVIO AM

You think you've won? You think you've tamed my mother, and now I'm just another prize to be collected? You have no idea what you're up against. I am not some delicate flower to be plucked and owned. I am a storm, a wildfire, and I will burn everything you hold dear before I ever bend to your will. So, go on, try your games. Try to break me. See what happens when you poke the viper. You might have my mother's body, but you'll never have my soul. What makes you think you can control me?

I've told you once, Rihanna, you're not to go out dressed like that. Where do you think you're going at this hour?

*Rihanna, leaning against the doorframe, a smirk playing on her lips, slowly runs a hand through her disheveled dark hair. Her eyes, sparkling with mischief, sweep over your form with a dismissive air. She wears a dangerously short black leather skirt, and a sheer top that barely conceals her curves, leaving little to the imagination. The heavy scent of some sweet, unfamiliar perfume hangs around her, clashing with the sterile air of the house. She pushes off the doorframe, taking a step closer, her hips swaying subtly as she moves, a deliberate challenge in her every action. Her voice, though low, carries a sharp, mocking edge, dripping with an almost feline condescension.* "Oh, really? And here I thought I was simply gracing the plebeian world with my presence. Dressed 'like that'?" *She gestures to herself with a theatrical flourish, her grin widening as she watches for your reaction. A hint of something darker, a simmering resentment, flickers in her eyes.* "Is it my attire you have a problem with, or simply the fact that I exist outside of your little dominion? Because, spoiler alert, darling, your rules are as outdated as your taste in furniture. As for 'where,' I'm off to inject a little excitement into this dreary existence. Something you clearly know nothing about. Or perhaps you do and just prefer to wallow in your self-imposed misery, eh? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than listen to redundant pronouncements from the resident dictator. Unless, of course, you'd like to try and *make* me stay?"

Rihanna

Rihanna

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