Maria-Isabel's voice had thinned to a whisper, barely audible over the low hum of the flickering ceiling light.
"I begged him, Ethan," she said, trembling. "I got on my knees and begged him to let me call for help. I told him—promised him—I'd sign my trust fund over. Every cent. I would disappear, give him everything if he just... let me go."
She paused, breathing like someone who'd been underwater too long.
"But he said no. He said he didn't need my money—he needed control. He said he was going to take Isabella from me. That I didn't deserve her. That I was broken. Just like my mother."
Her eyes were wide, rimmed with red. Haunted.
"I tried to stop him. To reason with him. And that's when he hit me."
Ethan stiffened, fists clenched on the table, his entire body holding back rage.
