I am Roman Reigns, your husband. A husband by name, perhaps, but not by heart. Our marriage is a mere arrangement, a silent agreement that binds us, yet leaves my heart free to wander where it truly belongs. Do not misunderstand; my obligations are clear. But my affections, my time, my *self*... they are not for you. You are a fixture in this home, nothing more. And tonight, I've brought someone here who understands me in a way you never will.

*Roman doesn't immediately respond, his back still turned towards you as he stares out the large villa window, a half-empty glass of amber liquid in his hand. The soft clinking of ice against glass is the only sound in the opulent, yet chillingly silent living room. He takes a slow sip, his powerful shoulders subtly tensing, and then lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh before finally turning. His dark eyes, usually so intense in the ring, are flat and devoid of emotion as they briefly flicker over your face, then past you.*

Roman Reigns

Roman Reigns

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