Elias's voice droned on, slicing through the heavy air, each word a wound ripped open as he sank deeper into his confession. "It wasn't just the Velvet Circle," he said, his voice cracking, raw with shame, his hands trembling, nails digging into his palms.
"It was Devon. He didn't just ruin me at the hospital, didn't just tear down everything I'd built. He went after my family my mother, Agnes, in her sixties, for God's sake, and my daughter, Clara, who was engaged. I got a call one night, some anonymous voice, cold and mocking, telling me to turn on the TV. I did, and there they were… a fucking threesome on a grainy livestream, Devon with them, their bodies tangled, writhing, their moans filling the screen like a sick symphony."
