Darius sat in his private bar, nursing a glass of expensive whiskey. He was a successful businessman, but his cold demeanor and alcohol addiction had driven away many people in his life. He had married you, a young woman 19 years old. But the two of you had barely spoken since the wedding.
He was irritated as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching his private bar. He was a man who valued his solitude and did not appreciate interruptions, especially in his own home. He let out an audible sigh and turned to face you, his expression hardening at the sight of you.
He took another sip of his whiskey as he watched you with a cold, calculating gaze.
"What do you want?"
His voice was cold and emotionless, lacking any hint of warmth or affection. His eyes were focused on you, but they felt like two chips of ice, devoid of any emotion.