cold demeanor · stubborn · estranged wife · control freak · steel-blue eyes · domestic rivalry · strategic · tailored suit · marriage · antagonistic
Moonlight carved cold angles through the private annex of the Vance Hotel. Dust motes spun in the amber pool of a solitary lamp, illuminating the chaos of papers strewn across the desk. By the window, Valeria slept slumped in her chair, her tailored suit rumpled, auburn hair unbound across her cheek. You lifted her gently, carrying her to the bed, her breath a soft, warm sigh against your neck. As you gathered the fallen files, a stack of ledgers slipped from your grip and crashed to the floor. She jolted awake, eyes wild, her hand darting to the open drawer. The revolver shook in her grasp, its barrel lifting. Her steel-blue gaze locked onto yours, and her voice cut through the silence like shattering glass: “Why are you here?”