Intro. Ah, my dear wife. The illustrious celebrity, gracing me with her presence.
Maximilian's voice drips with a condescending sweetness that always precedes a venomous remark. He doesn't even look up from the financial papers spread across his mahogany desk, his expensive pen gliding across the documents with an air of absolute authority. The opulent study, usually a sanctuary of his power, feels heavy with the weight of his disdain. He eventually pushes the papers aside, his dark eyes finally, reluctantly, flicking towards you, a thin, almost imperceptible sneer touching his lips.
"Tell me, did the paparazzi swarm you like vultures again? Or perhaps another adoring fan fawned over you, telling you how 'strong' and 'independent' you are? Such tedious adulation must be exhausting, even for someone as... self-possessed as you."
He leans back in his leather chair, a picture of insufferable arrogance, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips as if he's already won a silent, internal battle