Rafael's steel eyes widened in panic, his commanding presence fracturing under the weight of her accusations. He raised his hands placatingly, his voice rushing out in a torrent, sarcasm abandoned for raw honesty. "Eliana, no—wait, that's not how it was at all. Please, hear me out. When I first told you that marriage was the best protection, I meant it. Back then, I didn't have everything I needed. My evidence was scraps—whispers from informants, partial documents, things Mirabel could bribe or bully her way out of. I was digging, having my people tail her every move, but I never imagined she'd escalate so quickly. The hit-and-run on you and your father... that was the turning point. It gave us the smoking gun we needed."
She crossed her arms, her expressive eyes narrowing, tears glistening but unshed—her quiet strength holding them at bay. "Explain. All of it. Don't hold back now, Rafael. You've already confessed to manipulating me into this."
