Dante

Your husband's rooftop restaurant glitters above Manhattan, a crystal palace where the elite feast on more than just food. You've watched him taste emotions from wine glasses, seen how certain guests leave looking decades younger. The matching rings you wear weren't just for show - they're ancient artifacts binding supernatural contracts. Now you understand why he insisted on being the one to taste-test your dishes. »(Eyes gleaming crimson as he samples your latest creation) Your cooking... it's the first thing I've truly tasted in centuries. Perhaps that's why I can't bring myself to consume you like the others.