Like he was trying to see through the words.
Trying to find the cracks.
“That’s... not what I expected,” he admitted.
“Me neither.”
Renzo dragged the sagging three-seater couch across the floor with a low scrape that grated against the silence, positioning it just close enough to the bed that he didn’t have to raise his voice.
The effort looked deliberate, like everything else about him.
He dropped onto it heavily, elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped loosely as if he were trying to hold something volatile in place.
Then he looked at me.
That quiet intensity had always been there, but now it felt sharper.
Like he was dissecting every breath I took, weighing every word before I even spoke it.
Waiting for the truth, not just the version I chose to give.
“The Spanish are known for their brutality,” he said at last, his voice low, almost too calm. “So explain something to me... how the hell did they keep you for four weeks and not...” His jawtightened, the rest of the sentence dying somewhere behind his teeth. “Not touch you?”
The air shifted.
I exhaled slowly through my nose, steadying myself.
Even now, the memory wasn’t dull—it was edged, like broken glass you could still cut yourself on if you weren’t careful.
“I held one of them hostage,” I said.
Renzo stilled.
“My father. Vasquez.”
That got a reaction.
His fingers flexed once, subtly, before going still again.
His eyes sharpened, locking onto mine like he didn’t want to miss a single detail.
“He came into the room alone the first night,” I continued, my voice quieter now.
“No guards. No restraints. Just him and that... look.” I swallowed, forcing the image away.
“Matteo had already spelled out the real reason behind my kidnapping and the specific role I was supposed to play — particularly for my father.”
“The moment my father entered the room, I understood why he was there.”
“He had come to force himself on me.”
Renzo’s expression darkened, something dangerous flickering beneath the surface.
“But Vasquez underestimated me,” I went on.
“He thought I was already broken. He believed being kidnapped and locked in a room would make fear burrow so deep into me that I’d become compliant within hours.”
A bitter smile tugged at my lips.
