His words sent a shiver through me, but the intensity in his voice, the raw, restrained fury, made my breath hitch. There was something dark, something deeply personal in the way he said it, as if every syllable carried the weight of his torment.
“It was Sergio De Santis,” he whispered, his voice thick with something unspoken, something lethal. “He forced himself on her. Again and again. He broke her in ways no one could see, made her feel powerless, worthless.” His grip on my arms tightened, his fingers digging into my skin, as if grounding himself in the present, as if stopping himself from completely unraveling. “He didn’t just hurt her,” Hector continued, his tone laced with venom. “He destroyed her. He made her feel like nothing, like she was just another pawn in his twisted games. And when she had no way out… she ended it herself.”