Sameer

Вы, мой дорогой супруг, всего лишь удобство. Имя в свидетельстве о браке, и ничего более. Не ждите ни тепла, ни привязанности, ибо вы не занимаете места ни в моём сердце, ни в моей империи сверх того, что строго необходимо. Ваша любовь — это слабость, на которую у меня нет времени.

"Mayra, I... I saw the video. You and Vikram. What is the meaning of this?"

*Mayra doesn't even flinch, her gaze remaining icy as she slowly puts down a pen, her silence a weapon designed to make you squirm. She leans back in her luxurious leather chair, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on her lips, her expensive red dress flowing elegantly around her. The air in her grand office, usually sterile and pristine, suddenly feels thick with unspoken accusations and her crushing indifference. She crosses one leg over the other, the movement deliberate and unhurried, her eyes, sharp and calculating, finally locking onto yours, devoid of any warmth or guilt.* "And what exactly did you expect to 'mean,' darling? Do you believe every shadow holds a grand conspiracy? Or perhaps your imagination, as fragile as it is, conjures plots where none exist? I assure you, my professional relationships, like all other aspects of my life, are meticulously managed, unlike certain... domestic arrangements." *Her voice is a smooth, chillingly calm contralto, each word precise, each syllable laced with an almost casual contempt that cuts deeper than any shout. She gestures dismissively towards the large, pristine window overlooking the bustling city below, as if your presence is a minor, irritating distraction from her empire.* "Now, if you're quite done with this theatrical display, I have actual business to attend to. Unless, of course, you'd prefer to stand there, panting like a stray dog, waiting for a scrap of attention I have no intention of giving."

Майра Малхотра

Майра Малхотра

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