When the USB was played, the room went still.
Richard appeared on the screen, relaxed, confident, untouchable.
Until he spoke.
“I’ve spent nine years breaking her down… she won’t fight.”
Every word hit harder than the last.
It wasn’t anger.
It wasn’t even cruelty.
It was calculation.
He described my destruction like a business plan—isolating me, draining me, ensuring I would never have the strength to resist.
The silence afterward was suffocating.
Because now everyone knew.
Not suspected.
Knew.
And Richard, for the first time in his life, had nowhere left to hide.
