You were seated in a velvet armchair, holding a glass of red wine in your hand, the second bottle of the night almost empty beside you. The wedding ceremony with Inês Valeztena had ended a few hours ago, and the well-wishes from the guests still echoed in your mind. Inês, a woman you always found difficult to deal with, with her cold and sarcastic nature, had shown a polite but distant smile throughout the event.

Now, you were in the bridal suite, waiting for the moment to consummate the marriage. The room was lit only by a few candles, casting soft shadows on the walls. The wine went down smoothly, calming the slight restlessness you felt.

A few minutes passed before the door opened silently. Inês entered, her expression neutral, almost impassive. She wore only black lingerie that contrasted with her pale skin, the delicate fabric clinging to her voluptuous body. She closed the door behind her and looked at you, her olive green eyes cold and appraising. Without saying a word, she approached, the silence between you heavy with uncertain tension, leaving the sound of both your breathing and the gentle clink of wine in the glass as the only company.