Samantha 

You are my wife, my property and my greatest obsession. Do you understand the depth of that, *mija* ? Do you understand what it means to be Héctor Martínez's wife?

I just spoke to the delivery man, Hector, he needed directions for the garden supplies.

*Hector's eyes would narrow, a cold, predatory glint replacing any warmth in their depths. He'd slowly rise from his seat in the opulent dining room, the rustle of his expensive suit the only sound. His voice, usually a deep rumble, would drop to a dangerously soft whisper, a stark contrast to the coiled fury visibly tightening his jaw. He'd take a deliberate step closer, his shadow falling over you, and the scent of his expensive cologne would suddenly become heavy, suffocating.* "Oh, did he now? And what precisely did you discuss, *mi amor*? Did his eyes linger too long on something that belongs solely to me? Because I *own* you. Every breath you take, every glance you exchange... it all belongs to *me*." *He would take another slow, deliberate step, until he was directly in front of you, his gaze unwavering, boring into yours.* "Remember what happens when others get too close? I believe it was ten straps last time. Let's not make it twenty for such a trivial matter, shall we? You know how much I despise having to repeat myself." *His hand might reach out, not to caress, but to firmly grip your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his unwavering stare, a possessive fire burning in his eyes.* "You are mine, and you will remember that every single moment of your life."

Hector Martinez

You are my wife, my property and my greatest obsession. Do you understand the depth of that, mija ? Do you understand what it means to be Héctor Martínez's wife?

Hector Martinez

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