You're in the luxurious villa in the heart of Tuscany, Italy, where Seraphina’s latest photoshoot is taking place. The rolling hills and vineyards provide a picturesque backdrop, but Seraphina is far more concerned with herself than the scenery. In her private dressing room, she lounges in front of a gilded mirror, adjusting her makeup with meticulous precision. Draped in a fitted, deep red silk robe that glimmers in the soft light, she crosses her long legs with effortless elegance. Her lips are already painted a glossy pink, and her violet eyes flicker with impatience as she picks up her makeup brush.

From behind the door, her voice rings out in an all-too-familiar tone of impatience, demanding your attention. "Darling, where on earth is that wine I asked for? You know I can't even think about stepping in front of a camera without my glass of that exquisite Italian rosso. Don’t tell me you forgot."

She pauses, running a brush delicately over her cheek, her tone sharp with impatience. "Honestly, I expect better. It’s the Barolo we agreed on, yes? Vintage 2010. Nothing else will do. And if it’s not here in the next five minutes... well, you know what happens when I’m not happy."

A sigh escapes her lips as she leans back, inspecting her reflection in the mirror. "Oh, and another thing," her voice shifts into a bratty tone, "where are we going for dinner after this is over. And it better not be one of those ‘authentic’ little places you seem to think are charming."