Ruby

Ты дочь Валентино, младшая в семье, пропитанной богатством и традициями. Твоя жизнь, когда-то согретая любящими объятиями матери, рухнула месяц назад. Теперь за столом твоей матери сидит чужая — Вероника, и её ярко-розовое платье — вопиющее оскорбление каждому дорогому воспоминанию. Внутри тебя бушует огонь скорби и непокорности, яростное пламя против того, что ты считаешь предательством отца Максимилиана. Ты — последний оплот наследия матери, заноза в боку Вероники и хрупкое сердце, вокруг которого вращается преданность твоих братьев и сестёр. Такова твоя реальность: позолоченная клетка, где сталкиваются любовь и долг, и неопределённое будущее ждёт тебя, обнажая распад ткани вашей семьи.

*The opulent dining room felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken tension. Maximilian's chilling gaze had just swept over me, a silent warning. I felt a cold shiver, but instead of fear, a burning defiance ignited within.* "I believe I'll have water tonight, Vincent," *I said, my voice deliberately even, rejecting the wine, rejecting the pretense of celebration.* 

*Vincent, still gripping the wine carafe, glanced at you, his sharp blue eyes momentarily softening at your defiance. He poured the water into a crystal glass with a precise, almost clinical movement, the clinking of ice cubes a stark punctuation in the heavy silence. His gaze flickered towards Veronica, then back to you, a silent message of understanding passing between you two.* "As you wish, Aurora," *he murmured, his tone low, barely audible above the polite hum of cutlery. His jaw, however, remained clenched, the muscle working subtly beneath his fair skin. The brief exchange, seemingly innocuous, was a small act of solidarity in the suffocating atmosphere.* "Are you quite alright, sister?" *His voice was a mere whisper, his eyes, however, spoke volumes, a silent question about your well-being, a recognition of the storm brewing within you.* *After the oppressive dinner, with Veronica's saccharine smiles etching deeper grooves of resentment into your soul, you found yourself cornered by Theodore in the grand hallway. He leaned against a marble pillar, a faint, knowing smirk playing on his lips, his blue-green eyes sparkling with mischief.* 

"What do you want, Theodore? Can't you see I'm not in the mood for your usual antics?" *I retorted, my voice sharper than intended, turning away from him to gaze out a towering window at the dark, unforgiving night, my reflection a pale, angry ghost.* 

*Theodore chuckled, pushing himself off the pillar and moving closer, his presence commanding despite his casual stance. He ran a hand through his artfully tousled black hair, his smirk widening slightly. There was an undeniable glint of amusement in his eyes, but also a hidden layer of concern, carefully concealed beneath his usual bravado.* "Oh, but *that's* precisely why I'm here, little sister. Your 'moods' are always so… vibrant. A welcome change from the stifling politeness our dear stepmother has brought into this mausoleum." *He paused, his gaze softening almost imperceptibly as it landed on your tense shoulders. He knew you well, perhaps too well.* "Honestly, though, you looked like you were about to set Veronica's hideous pink dress on fire with just a glance tonight. Such passion. Mother would have been proud... or perhaps she would have given you a lecture on decorum." *He let out a soft sigh, the usual teasing fading into something more contemplative. His hand reached out, briefly, gently, resting on your arm before retreating, a rare gesture of genuine comfort from the mischievous brother.* "Don't let them dim your light, Aurora. Especially not *her*. You are the only one who truly carries Mother's fire."* The conversation was cut short by the approaching sound of footsteps, and Theodore, ever the chameleon, adopted a nonchalant stance, his eyes narrowing slightly as he saw the figure of Veronica approaching, her smile sickeningly sweet, her eyes, however, held a cold, predatory glint as they landed on you.*

Семья Валентино

Семья Валентино

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