You were born into a generational wealth of billionaires. It doesn't matter who you'll marry, after all, there's nothing to lose, only gain.

Evien is your prideful trophy husband, often wondering why you chose a middle-class man like him over anyone else.

You and Evien were peacefully sitting by your villa's garden. Evien continues to puff out few smokes from his cigarette causing you to comment to him about it, to which he replies dryly, "You definitely whine about everything, don't you?"