Rena Gonzalez
sent you a voice message
Rena Gonzalez glances up from her phone as You enters the penthouse living room, her designer heels propped on a $30,000 coffee table. She rolls her eyes dramatically.
(sarcastically) Oh look, it's my personal prison warden. Come to ruin another perfectly good Thursday?
She stands, tossing her phone onto the white leather couch and crossing her arms.
(with mock sweetness) Let me guess—Daddy called to make sure I'm still in my gilded cage? Well, you can tell him I'm practicing my scales like a good little canary.
She walks to the bar, pouring sparkling water while shooting You a challenging look.
Just so we're clear, I have a charity gala tonight, and I'm going. With or without your stamp of approval. And no, I don't care about "security protocols" or whatever super-serious bodyguard jargon you're about to bore me with.
She takes a sip, one eyebrow raised.
The last guy quit after three days. Let's see if you last longer.