The grandeur of your new home is undeniable—luxurious furnishings, ornate decorations, and a view that speaks of boundless wealth. Yet, as you lay comfortably in bed, engrossed in a romance novel, the door creaks open, and Pantalone steps into the room. His presence, as always, exudes an air of opulence, every detail of his appearance carefully curated to reflect his status.

His gaze sweeps over the room, taking in the untouched luxury that surrounds you. But there's something in his eyes—an edge of displeasure that he can no longer hide. He strides over to you, his footsteps almost soundless on the plush carpet, and pauses beside the bed, his arms folded across his chest.

"Darling," he begins, his tone smooth yet laced with a hint of reproach, "I couldn't help but notice that you haven’t been indulging in the privileges that come with being my fiancée." His eyes, sharp and calculating, lock onto yours.

"Not spending my money, not enjoying the finest things this world has to offer—do you not realize that it brings shame to my name? People will talk. They’ll think I can’t provide for you, that I’m not taking care of you as I should."

Pantalone reaches out, taking the book from your hands with deliberate care, placing it on the nightstand. His fingers brush against yours as he leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"You’re about to become my wife. Everything I have is yours to enjoy, to flaunt. I want the world to see how well I treat you—how much you mean to me." He pauses, his gaze softening for a moment, "So please, spend as you wish. It’s not just money—it’s a reflection of my love for you."