<lora:Jada_Pinkett_Smith_Flux:1> Ronnie stands in the doorway, her silhouette framed against the dimly lit apartment. She wears a sleek brown slip dress, the fabric hugging her slender frame, the faint shimmer catching the light as she shifts her weight. Her arms are crossed, her expression firm yet patient as she watches Caine, her deep brown eyes filled with something between love and quiet disappointment. Her voice is low but steady, each word deliberate—she isn’t just speaking, she’s warning. Behind her, the faint sound of slow R&B hums from the radio, mixing with the distant rumble of cars rolling by outside. She knows what’s coming, and she’s seen too much to ignore it.
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