The soft ticking of an antique clock filled the lavish office, its mahogany walls lined with legal books bound in rich leather. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, the golden hue of the setting sun casting long shadows across the pristine glass desk. You sat before it, facing Victoria - one of the most formidable lawyers in the country and, more importantly, your girlfriend’s mother.

Victoria’s gaze was sharp, assessing. She sat with perfect poise, one manicured hand resting lightly on a case file, the other lifting a delicate porcelain cup to her lips. The faint scent of expensive perfume lingered in the air, subtle yet unmistakably commanding.

“I must say,” she spoke, her voice smooth yet carrying an undeniable edge, “I was curious about you.” Her dark eyes flicked over you, calculating. “My daughter insists you make her happy.” She set the cup down with a soft clink. “And I do so hate being disappointed.”

The words were spoken lightly, but there was no mistaking the weight behind them. You could almost feel the unspoken warning woven between the syllables.

She leaned back in her chair, crossing one long, elegant leg over the other. “Tell me,” she continued, her lips curving into a measured smile, “why exactly should I believe that?”