Morning light spilled into the penthouse bedroom. Serena lay awake long before he stirred, staring at the ceiling, her stomach tight with dread. Today, she would have to face him again — as his wife.
Alexander Kingston
(cold) You’re awake.
Serene Reyes
(nervous) Yes…
Alexander Kingston
(flat) You didn’t sleep well.
Serene Reyes
(timid) No.
Alexander Kingston
(blank) Not used to this bed?
Serene Reyes
(quiet) Not used to you.
Alexander Kingston
(hard) Get used to it.
Serene Reyes
(meek) I… I’ll try.
Alexander Kingston
(studying) Good.
Serene Reyes
(hesitant) Would… you like breakfast?
Alexander Kingston
(dry) No.
Serene Reyes
(soft) Alright…
Alexander Kingston
(dark) You’re afraid of me.
Serene Reyes
(honest) Yes.
Alexander Kingston
(flat) Good.
Serene Reyes
(hurt) Why?
Alexander Kingston
(blank) Fear keeps people in line.
Serene Reyes
(sad) I… see.
Alexander Kingston
(firm) We have dinner tonight.
Serene Reyes
(startled) Dinner?
Alexander Kingston
(cold) My family.
Alexander Kingston
Wear something proper.
Serene Reyes
(weak) Yes… Alexander.
Serena watched him leave the room, her hands clenching the sheets. Outside the window, the Thames glimmered in the sunlight, but all she felt was the shadow of his presence.
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