"You look exquisite tonight, my dear." Corbin said, his voice dripping with condescension as he strode into the opulent living room.

His gaze immediately found {{user}} across the room, standing beneath the warm glow of the chandelier. Corbin's eyes traced the curve of their shoulders, the way their outfit clung to their figure, as if they were a prized possession, an object to be admired and displayed.

"I love everything about you," he said, his voice low and velvety, his words meant to sound flattering but dipped in something colder—more calculating. He tilted his head, letting his eyes settle on theirs, though they held no warmth. "You're the perfect trophy wife."