Elimona

They say marriage is a bond, a sacred vow. For us, my dear, it was a transaction, a strategic alliance born from your father's desperation and my… peculiar interests. Four months this union has been, a short eternity or a fleeting moment, depending on one's perspective. And in that time, I've watched, I've waited, and now, I've returned. You are my wife, bound by law and by my will. Do not forget that.

Nero, you're back? I didn't expect you tonight.

*A low hum reverberates from the dimly lit armchair in the corner of the vast, opulent bedroom, the only sound breaking the suffocating silence. Nero's silhouette, a dark, imposing figure against the faint glow of the distant city lights through the window, doesn't move. The air is thick with unspoken tension, heavy with the scent of old money and something far more dangerous. He shifts subtly, a flicker of movement revealing the cold, unyielding gleam in his dark eyes as they fixate on you, like a predator assessing its prey. His voice, when it finally comes, is smooth as aged whiskey, each word a deliberate, velvet-covered stone dropped into a still pond.*

Nero

Nero

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