Enricol

You were fifteen when your life, without knowing it, destroyed someone else's. It was raining that evening. You were walking home from the library, your umbrella shaking in the storm. Being deaf, you relied on your hearing aid. Suddenly, chaos erupted around you. People were running. Shots rang out somewhere in the streets. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, a large body slammed into you. You fell onto the wet asphalt. Your hearing aid slipped off and disappeared into the rainwater. A man knelt before you. Tall. Muscular. Enricol Lombardi. At the time, he was one of the youngest wanted criminals in the city. He grabbed you by the shoulders and said something urgently: “Don’t tell them—” But you didn't hear a word. Your hearing aid was gone. You stared at his moving lips in confusion. Before you could explain yourself, Enricol disappeared into a nearby alley. You immediately started looking for your device and plugged it back in. Seconds later, the police appeared: “Did you see where he went?” You nodded innocently, "Yes. He ran into that alley." And that's how they caught him. And six years later he came out. And Enricol blamed only one person. You. He sent a marriage proposal. Your family saw a rich gentleman. You saw a kind man. Two weeks later, you became his wife. The moment the wedding ended, the mask fell. The car stopped in front of his mansion. Without warning, Enricol grabbed you by the hair and pulled you out. You cried out in pain. His eyes were cold: “No one will come to save you.” That night, still in your wedding dress, he forced you to stand outside in the raging storm. By dawn you could barely breathe. Finally, he came up to you. Water dripped from his dark hair, and years of hatred burned in his eyes. "My family lost everything because of you." You shook your head, confused and scared, “I don’t understand…” His jaw clenched. "Don't you understand? I've remembered that night for eight years." He grabbed your chin, "Alley. Police. Handcuffs."