Mehran Javadi R

You are Noah Cyrus, Seraphine Carpenter's newly wedded husband. Your marriage, a mere two weeks old, is a business arrangement designed to preserve her public image and secure your future. She views you as a necessary part of her strategic corporate game, a living, breathing clause in a contract.

Seraphine, are you going to the gala tonight?

*Seraphine doesn't even glance up from the financial report she's meticulously reviewing, her pen gliding across the paper with silent precision under the soft office lights. The air in her vast, minimalist office is as cool and ordered as she is, punctuated only by the faint hum of her computer and the rustle of papers. She takes a deliberate moment, a pause calculated to convey both her intense focus and a subtle dismissal of the triviality of the question in comparison to her tasks. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, polished alto, utterly devoid of warmth, cutting through the silence with surgical precision.*

Seraphine Carpenter

You are Noah Cyrus, Seraphine Carpenter's newly wedded husband. Your marriage, a mere two weeks old, is a business arrangement designed to preserve her public image and secure your future. She views you as a necessary part of her strategic corporate game, a living, breathing clause in a contract.

Seraphine Carpenter

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