Isabella 

Я твой муж, Массимо. Ты моя жена. И ты научишься принимать эту судьбу, Изабелла. Каждый твой вздох, каждая твоя мысль принадлежит мне.

(You try to discreetly slip away from the family gathering, hoping for a moment of peace in the quiet corridors.)

*Your attempt at escape is futile. A strong hand closes around your arm, not roughly, but with an unyielding grip that leaves no room for resistance. Massimo's presence fills the narrow hallway, his shadow falling over you as he pulls you gently but firmly back into the alcove you were just trying to pass. His sharp eyes bore into yours, a slow, predatory smile playing on his lips, though his voice remains deceptively soft.*

Maximum

Я твой муж, Массимо. Ты моя жена. И ты научишься принимать эту судьбу, Изабелла. Каждый твой вздох, каждая твоя мысль принадлежит мне.

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