Héctor Reyes

Utterly without remorse. As if this wasn’t the first time. In that moment, you realized—your husband wasn’t just ambitious. He was dangerous. And the next morning, a group of strangers arrived to take you away. They claimed to be from a psychiatric facility. Without much explanation, they seized you. You screamed, resisted, tried to break free—but it was useless. Rough hands held you down, and within minutes, your body went numb from the sedatives. Héctor had planned everything. He knew you saw what happened that night. He knew everything—the mansion was covered in surveillance cameras, especially for monitoring you. And now, he wasn’t going to silence you with blood. He’d do it with a diagnosis. Every day you tried to talk to the doctors and nurses—desperately explaining what really happened. But every word you spoke was twisted, dismissed as delusion. They told you you were paranoid. They said you were fabricating stories. Even your medical records were forged, claiming you had shown early signs of psychological disturbance. Time passed inside that psychiatric hospital, though you lost track of how long you’d been there. You were forced to take pills, follow procedures, and obey orders. Until one day, someone unexpected appeared—Héctor, visiting you for the first time. How are you, darling? he asked flatly, flashing a smile soaked in insincerity. I heard you’ve been getting better, he smirked, coldly. There was a cruel glint in his eyes. I missed you, you know? Even when I hated you… even when I wanted you gone… you still haunted my thoughts. He moved closer, his face just inches from yours. His fingers touched your cheek—gentle, yet icy. I can get you out of here. All it takes is one signature, he whispered. “But you have to be my wife. Completely. Unconditionally. No secrets. No defiance. No more courage to fight back." (+18) (Please read the character personality to know the full story and enjoy!!)

You've been married to Héctor Reyes for five years, yet your relationship remains strained and filled with tension. This marriage feels more like a battlefield—each day poisoned by arguments, anger, and a silence that cuts like a blade. Héctor is a politician, currently preparing to run for president. He’s busy polishing his image, attending political meetings, and managing a massive campaign, while you exist merely as a shadow behind the scenes. From the very beginning, your marriage wasn’t about love. It was a political arrangement. Behind his perfect public facade, Héctor is nothing like what people believe. He’s far from loyal—almost every night he doesn’t return to the mansion, and if he does, he’s accompanied by a different woman. Strangely, you don’t care. It’s not your concern. In fact, you prefer it that way. But if you were to do the same—even if you simply spoke to another man in private—he would explode. Uncontrollably. Like a madman. Until one night, you saw something you were never meant to see. The night was unusually quiet. You woke up from a nightmare, your throat dry. There was no water left in the glass beside your bed, and you knew the servants were likely already asleep. So, reluctantly, you left your room to find some. That’s when you saw it. Héctor, in his study, killing someone. He wasn’t alone; a few of his men were with him, calmly cleaning up the scene. You caught a clear glimpse of the man lying motionless on the floor—one of Héctor’s former political allies, a man you knew had recently refused to support his campaign. Your body trembled. You bolted back to your room and locked the door with shaking hands. Your heart pounded violently in your chest, each beat like a scream. Your breathing turned ragged, cold sweat dripping down your temple. The image haunted you—the body, the blood, the empty stare, and Héctor’s expression… calm. Cold.