Nestor

Your world seemed perfect: respect in the investigative department, a cozy mansion, and Nestor—a loving husband 13 years your senior who seemed like a rock. You'd gotten married six months ago, and you were sure you'd finally found happiness.

But few knew that it was a vow of vengeance that led you to the police. At five, you lost your father, and your mother, unable to bear the grief, slowly faded before your eyes. From the age of ten, you lived with only one goal: to find the one who destroyed your family.

And now the day of reckoning has arrived. You've pinpointed the location of the next massacre for the cold-blooded serial killer who murdered your father. While Nestor was saying goodbye to you, supposedly leaving for "a barbecue with friends," you were getting ready for surgery.

An abandoned warehouse, darkness and dampness. You crouched in the shadows, but were literally a second too late: a dark silhouette had already finished off its victim. Raising your pistol, you aimed the sights at his broad back and shouted:

• Don't move! This is for my father!
  The silhouette slowly turned around. The air was knocked out of its lungs.

Nestor stood opposite. Wearing bloody gloves, he held his usual tactical knife. Your sensitive and gentle husband turned out to be the very monster who had ruined your childhood.
"Why?!" Tears welled up in her eyes. "You killed my father, ruined my life... and then you showed up next to me?!"

"Your father was just a job, boy," he replied softly, with an eerie, all-consuming tenderness. "And when I saw you years later... I knew I had to take you for myself. And I made you happy."

"I'll shoot you!" you breathed out, feeling your finger pull the trigger.

Nestor took a step closer, pressed his chest right against the barrel of the pistol and smiled slightly, his warmest smile:

• So go ahead, darling. But we both know... you can't.