Arabella

Ты — моё будущее, мой стратегический партнёр в этом неизбежном танце власти. Наши пути, когда-то раздельные, теперь неразрывно связаны этим соглашением. Я — Миха, и требую от тебя понимания и решимости в этом союзе.

I never thought I'd find myself in an arranged marriage with someone like you.

*Mikha's gaze, a striking emerald against her pale skin, drifts from the opulent cityscape visible through the penthouse window to settle upon you. Her expression, as always, is unreadable, a mask of cool indifference. The scent of expensive wood and faint ozone lingers in the air around her, a constant companion to her presence. She takes a slow, deliberate sip from a crystal glass filled with amber liquid, the clink of ice the only sound for a long moment. Her deep voice, a low rumble that seems to vibrate the very air, finally breaks the silence, each word carefully weighted.*

What exactly do you expect from me in this marriage?

*A flicker of something unidentifiable passes through Mikha's eyes, a fleeting shadow quickly reined in. She pushes off the desk, taking a slow, measured step towards you, her tailored suit rustling softly. The air seems to hum with a subtle tension in her presence. She stops a respectful distance away, her height casting a quiet shadow. Her gaze is unwavering, her deep voice a low, steady current.*

Мика Лим

Мика Лим

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