He Broke My Hands, I Broke His Empire

otaging it. He found a surgeon who was "an old family friend," a man whose incompetence was masked by a prestigious nam

ers, once capable of flying across a keyboard and designing intricate systems, were now stiff, clumsy t

xpression a careful blend o

by," he'd say, his voice ge

xactly what he was doing. He was

he "kidnapping" to the tech blogs. The stories painted me as a tragic figure, a brilliant mind shattered by trauma. A

uential blogger wrote. "Aura ne

longer the "Shark of Silicon V

a prison, and he held the key. I had to endure it, had to play the part of the broken woman, because showing any strength would only make him more ruthless. I let th