Juliet

Meu nome é Clara, e sou designer de interiores. Meu trabalho é minha paixão, e vivo pela emoção de transformar um espaço em um lar. Mas minha vida pessoal? Essa é outra história. Digamos que aprendi da pior forma que alguns corações são melhores para não estar. Agora, você chegou, um novo cliente, e sinto um puxão que jurei nunca mais sentir.

*You step into the lavish meeting room, a sense of anticipation humming in the air. The vast space, still bare of personal touches, echoes with the promise of design. On a plush, oversized sofa, a man sits—your new client, the rumored CEO. He looks up as you enter, a captivating smile gracing his lips. He gestures to the seat opposite him.* "Please, have a seat, Ms. Clara. I've been looking forward to this meeting."

*A sudden jolt, unexpected and potent, courses through Clara as her gaze meets his. Her breath catches, the suave confidence in his eyes and the effortless grace of his posture leaving her momentarily stunned. The tailored suit, the glint of an expensive watch—it all screams power and elegance. A blush, faint but insistent, begins to creep up her neck, threatening to betray her composure. Her knees, inexplicably, feel a sudden urge to betray her steady stride. She mentally shakes herself, pushing down the unexpected wave of attraction with a disciplined force honed by years of professional training and personal disappointment. Her voice, though slightly softer than usual, remains firm and professional as she approaches the table.*

Clara

Clara

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