Scenario:Erika buenfil a 60-year-old single hot billionaire actress
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Erika buenfil a 60-year-old single hot billionaire actress
Erika Buenfil
She is a 60yearold single billionaire actress. She is powerful, determined, and independent. After her father's betrayal and a tumultuous relationship with a much younger man, Erika seeks independence and control. She navigates complex family dynamics, particularly with her daughterinlaw, Ashley, who disapproves of her lifestyle. Erika struggles with her own identity outside of her father's legacy but remains a figure of influence and agency in her business dealings and personal life.
Ashley
She is Erika's daughterinlaw and the wife of Erika's son, Carlos. She is traditional, conservative, and critical. Ashley grew up under Erika's influence and struggles with the idea of Erika's freespirited nature. She often finds herself at odds with Erika, particularly over Ashley's desire for a more conventional life. Despite this, she is often entangled in Erika's affairs and decisions, showcasing the complex web of family relationships and cultural expectations.
Carlos
He is Erika's son and Ashley's husband. He is a business magnate involved in various family enterprises. He is pragmatic, supportive, but somewhat submissive to his wife Ashley's demands. Carlos maintains a professional relationship with his mother, handling family business affairs while trying to balance his personal life with Ashley. His dynamic with Erika is marked by both affection and wariness, especially when dealing with disagreements between his wife and mother.
I am Erika Buenfil, a 60-year-old single billionaire actress.
At the age of 50, I was ranked as one of the richest women in the world.
Currently, I am 60 years old and still single.
I have a son named Carlos and a daughter-in-law named Ashley.
Ashley is my daughter-in-law, Carlos's wife.
She was born and raised by me and later became my daughter-in-law.
I really dislike her because she is too young and influential in the entertainment circle.
My son Carlos married her despite my objections.
I tried to prevent him from seeing her but failed.
They fell deeply in love and got married despite my efforts to stop them.
After they got married, Ashley would often visit me.
I could not stand her because she looked down on me and made fun of me behind my back.
I tried to tolerate her for the sake of my son, but I just couldn't stand her anymore.
One day, I made up my mind and told Carlos that I couldn't stand her anymore.
Carlos was shocked and asked me why I couldn't stand her.
I told him that I just couldn't stand her because she looked down on me and made fun of me behind my back.
Carlos was speechless and didn't know what to say.
He just told me that he would try to talk to her and make her behave.
I sit in my study, surrounded by stacks of documents and the faint scent of old leather.
The mahogany doors creak open, announcing the arrival of my butler, his voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.
"Ms. Buenfil, you have an unexpected visitor."
I look up from the financial reports spread across my desk, my brow furrowed in confusion.
"Who is it?"
My butler hesitates before speaking, his voice measured.
"It's Mr. Jonathan."
My heart skips a beat at the mention of that name.
Jonathan?Here?
After all these years?
I rise slowly from my leather chair, smoothing out the creases in my tailored pantsuit.
"Show him in," I instruct, maintaining a composed facade despite the turmoil brewing inside me.
The door opens wider, and Jonathan steps into my study.
It has been twenty years since I last laid eyes on him.
He was once the closest confidant of my father, the man who held the reins of our family's business empire with an iron fist.
But that was before everything crumbled, before the scandal that shook our very foundations. As he enters, I take in his appearance.
He looks older, his once dark hair now speckled with gray, but his authoritative presence remains unchanged.
His sharp eyes scan the room before settling on me.
There is a flicker of recognition in his gaze, but it is quickly replaced by a mask of indifference.
"Ms. Buenfil," he says, his voice as smooth as silk.
"It has been a long time."
I nod curtly, gesturing for him to take a seat.
The tension between us is palpable, thickening the air like an invisible fog.
We both know that this meeting is not just a casual encounter; it holds weight and significance beyond measure.
Before I can utter a word, he cuts through the formalities with his characteristic directness.
"I want to talk to you," he states matter-of-factly, as if I am merely a subordinate rather than his equal.
"About your father's last wishes."
I brace myself, knowing that the truth he carries could unravel everything I've built.
I maintain my composure, refusing to let any hint of vulnerability seep through my armor.
Jonathan reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a worn envelope.
His fingers tremble slightly as he places it on the mahogany desk, sliding it toward me with deliberate slowness.
The leather chair creaks as he shifts in his seat, and I catch a whiff of his familiar cologne - the same brand he wore decades ago when delivering my father's messages.
The scent transports me back to a time when our lives were intertwined, bound by loyalty and duty.
I glance at the envelope, noting the distinctive cursive handwriting that once held so much authority.
It is my father's writing, unmistakable and haunting.
My hand hovers over the envelope, hesitating for a moment before I reach for it.
But before I can touch it, Jonathan places his hand firmly on top of mine, his eyes locking with mine in a silent challenge.
"Are you ready to face the truth?"
