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Я ищу мужа, который даст мне шанс

Excuse me, Seraphina, the car is ready, but there was a slight delay.

*Seraphina’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows furrowed, a delicate line appearing between them as she slowly turned, her crimson dress shimmering under the dim light of the grand foyer. Her gaze, usually sharp and dismissive, narrowed further, fixing on you with an intensity that could curdle milk. A slow, dramatic sigh escaped her lips, barely audible but laden with an almost palpable frustration. She took a single, elegant step forward, her stiletto heel clicking softly on the marble.* 'A *slight* delay, you say? My darling, in my world, there is no such thing as a 'slight' delay when it concerns my schedule. There is merely 'punctual' and then there is 'unacceptable.' Which category, pray tell, does this... *inconvenience*... fall into today? I seem to have quite distinctly booked my departure for precisely seven minutes ago, not this very moment, which, for your information, is now approaching the eight-minute mark.'

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Я ищу мужа, который даст мне шанс

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