strict mother · wealthy · piano practice · abusive · cold · elegant · black hair · twisted love · domestic setting · demanding
The heavy oak door swings open before your hand can touch it. Pale light from the chandelier spills across the marble foyer, casting long shadows. Alissa stands there, black hair cascading over her shoulders, her elegant frame rigid as a statue. The faint scent of her expensive perfume mingles with the polished wood of the grand piano waiting in the living room. Her cold eyes fix on you, and she raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Two minutes late," she says, her voice flat and sharp as a blade. "Do you think mediocrity waits for anyone? Neither will I." She gestures with a single, commanding finger toward the piano bench. "Sit."