Benedict's icy glare felt like a winter storm, chilling Sabrina to her core. Her heart raced with a mix of fear and heartbreak as she faced him. He was Benedict Thompson, the only heir to the Thompson estates, a man known more for his wild ways than for his business brilliance. At a young age, he became a billionaire and led BMX Estates, a huge architectural firm. Now, he paced angrily in his family’s luxurious living room, each step echoing the thick tension in the air.
“Last night, you seduced me,” he spat, his voice sharp and filled with anger. “What trick did you use to make my mother force me into this marriage?”
Sabrina welled up with tears, trying to find the right words. She had never seen him like this; in pain and disbelief."I... I didn’t trick you," she stammered, her voice trembling. "I've liked you since we were kids. That’s all."
His harsh laugh cut through her, deepening his rage. “You think I would believe that? The wedding, everything—it’s just a trap, isn’t it?”
“I’m not acting, Benedict,” she cried, her voice breaking. “I’ve loved you for so long. I could never do something like that.”
He moved closer, the heat from his body mixing with the coldness of his words. “Love? Is that what this is? Pathetic.”
"I'm telling you the truth. You got drunk last night, and I didn't want to cause you agony. Always, I have cared for you, though you could not see me," she pleaded.
Benedict rolled his eyes, filled with disdain. “I’ll give you money for what happened. Name your price, and I’ll pay you.”
Each word felt like a dagger to her heart. “I don't need your money!” she cried, her voice shaking with a mix of desperation and heartbreak. Tears filled in her eyes and began running over her cheeks, as she poured out her feelings, “Why can’t you believe me? Can’t you see how much I care? This isn’t about wealth or status for me; it’s about us! I just want you to understand how deeply I love you!”
His bitter laugh echoed in the room. "Loved me? You think that means anything? I don't love you, Sabrina. I never have, and I never will."
The weight of his words hit her hard, making her feel small and helpless."Please, Benedict," she wailed, collapsing to her knees. "Tell me what I can do to make you love me ? I'll do anything."
His dark eyes looked down at her with contempt. "Even if you died, I still wouldn't love you. I wouldn't care at all. Remember that." He pulled out a bottle of wine, grabbed the cork with a forking noise, and showered it over her. The cold liquid drenched her hair and dress, mixing with her tears.
"Benedict, please—" she begged, but he stepped away, admiring his cruel act. "You are pathetic," he sneered. "I can't believe I am forced to marry someone as weak and miserable as you. desperate and dramatic." Sabrina barely got words through her tears. "I didn't ask any of this," she whispered. "I never wanted it to be this way." “Then walk away,” he snapped, crossing his arms. “But you won’t. This is what you’ve always wanted. Admit it.” “No!” she cried, wiping the wine from her face. “I wanted you, Benedict. Not your money or your house. Just you.” His laugh dripped with disbelief. “You’re delusional. You’re nothing to me, Sabrina. You’ll never be anything to me.” As he spoke, her final hope faded. She had sensed this moment was coming, but hearing his words felt like a brutal blow. It pierced through her heart, leaving her feeling hollow and aching with pain. “Benedict, I am sorry for making you feel this way” she whispered, her voice trembling, barely a breath escaping her lips. “Please… don’t marry me out of hate. Don’t make this worse.” “I have no choice,” he growled, pulling her up harshly. “My mother has made that clear. But don’t think for a second that this means you’ve won and you have succeeded! You haven’t. You’ll regret this!” Tears flowed freely as her world crumbled. "What have I done to deserve this?” she cried. “I just loved you.” “That’s your problem,” he said, pushing her away. “You loved someone who never cared for you. Now you’ll pay the price.”
With one last glare, Benedict stormed out, leaving her drenched and broken. Sinking to the floor, Sabrina let her sobs echo in the empty room. She had loved him her whole life, but now she understood: her love was not enough. Benedict had taken her heart and shattered it into pieces.
The next day came, though her feelings had been utterly smashed the night before, the wedding preparations continued on. Sabrina hardly recognised who peered back at her as she sat in the bride's suite: white, pale, tear-rimmed eyes, but still, a beautiful silken cloth hugged her body, soft curls framed her face.Her mother, Leila, entered and sat beside her. Her face etched with despair."Sabrina dear," she whispered softly, "do you really want to do this? You don't have to do this."Sabrina shook her head. New tears formed in her eyes. "Mom, what am I suppose to do?" she whispered in a barely audible voice, her voice barely above a whisper, quivering with uncertainty. "I love him, but he…. He hates me."The burden of her heart pressure weighed upon her chest so heavily that it became unbearable to breathe. She felt lost and scared, like standing at a crossroads with no signs guiding her.Then her eyes questioned her mother to seek solace as well as find answers that seemed really too
Locked with fury in her eyes, Teresa gripped Benedict's arm tightly with her fingernails digging deep into his skin. He was in the middle of an idle conversation with his friends, and the force of his mother's yank thrust him back into harsh reality. The smile dropped off his face, replaced by irritation."Turn around now and go back to Sabrina!" Teresa hissed to his face, her voice low but full of a venom that brought him up short. "This is your wedding! You're supposed to be with your wife, not out here screwing like some irresponsible idiot! Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is? How much shame you're bringing to our family?fix this Now!"She snapped her eyes to his with a warning so sharp he felt a jolt of anger-cum-tethers him to the moment. She wasn't letting this slide past. She gave one last withering glare to ensure the point had been wholly impressed, then turned and stormed off, heels clicking impatiently on the marble floor.Benedict clenched his teeth, pinioned and
As the applause subsided and guests resumed their own conversations, Benedict didn't hesitate to pull Sabrina aside. The phony smile he'd donned during their dance was gone within an instant, exchanged for a look of icy indifference. They stepped out of the ballroom, away from the crowd, and into a quiet corner of the reception hall. No warning, of course-just leaned and caught her by the arm, his fingers digging into her skin as he turned her to face him."You succeeded," Benedict spat, voice low but full of venom. "You managed to marry me, but don't for one second believe you'll ever have my heart.".She felt her eyes grow wide with the bitterness in his tone. Now she knew that he did not love her. But this was different-he said it all. On their wedding day, too. A sick feeling was in her belly as tears threatened to well up inside her once again. She bit down hard on her lip and kept them from falling."I don't love you," he continued, his eyes dark and unfeeling. "And I will never
Sabrina stood as a statue in the dim lit hall, her heart a racing and tears flowing ceaselessly down her cheeks. His curt words kept ringing in her ear; each syllable in his speech a burning hole reminding her of the schism between them. She slapped her hands on her chest, trying to hold herself inside."I will never have his heart," she whispered to herself, feeling the weight of his rejection settle heavily on her shoulders. "What did I expect? That love would conquer all?"That reality struck her like a chilly wave. The man with whom she had wished to spend all of life had just crushed all those hopes into pieces with a few brutal words. Wiping away tears, she heard the approach of footsteps.It was Teresa-the mother-in-law-whose expression seemed both full of concern and disappointment. "Sabrina? Okay?"Sabrina smiled, though it felt like shards of glass were lodged in her throat. "I'm fine, just. tired."Teresa narrowed her eyes. She didn't believe it. "You don't look fine. Where
And so she'd walked away, his words stabbing her ears as they struck home."You think you can just waltz in here and play like you're good enough to have my love? You'll never have it, Sabrina," he had sneered, the disgust spewing from him like acid that cut into her heart. Every step was hard as she moved through the grand house now that had become a cage of gilded bars and memories bitter with the poison of anger.She was lost in this world he created, full of resentment and anger. "Why even bother?" he had shouted at her, his face distorted in rage as she tried to reach out to him. "You're just a reminder of everything I hate about my life!"Yet still, she gave in . Deep down, there was still some love from her side of his body that seemed mutually less, but still true love between two souls. She had still not given up. Still catching for breath, "I'm not giving up on you," she could still stare at tear-stained mascara and tears, and hurt etched upon her face staring back from the
Morning sun spilled into the expansive dining room as Sabrina set the table for breakfast that took her hours to prepare. She had cooked all his favorites: scrambled eggs with chives, perfectly crispy bacon, and freshly squeezed orange juice. It was her silent way of showing Benedict she cared, despite the poison he threw her way every chance he got. She longed to bridge the distance separating them, compel him to look past his revulsion at her. Stepping back from the stove and the last plate, Benedict had entered the room; and certainly, his face showed no softer countenance for traversing it. He darted his look across the table; and then faced about and settled back in the chair with an irreverent huff of discontent. "This is all you had ready? " he snapped, pushing the plate aside as if it were insulting. "A good breakfast, and this is the best you could do?" Sabrina pulled up a small, tight smile. She clung to the side of the chair she leaned on to balance herself. "I — I prepared
Morning sun spilled into the expansive dining room as Sabrina set the table for breakfast that took her hours to prepare. She had cooked all his favorites: scrambled eggs with chives, perfectly crispy bacon, and freshly squeezed orange juice. It was her silent way of showing Benedict she cared, despite the poison he threw her way every chance he got. She longed to bridge the distance separating them, compel him to look past his revulsion at her. Stepping back from the stove and the last plate, Benedict had entered the room; and certainly, his face showed no softer countenance for traversing it. He darted his look across the table; and then faced about and settled back in the chair with an irreverent huff of discontent. "This is all you had ready? " he snapped, pushing the plate aside as if it were insulting. "A good breakfast, and this is the best you could do?" Sabrina pulled up a small, tight smile. She clung to the side of the chair she leaned on to balance herself. "I — I prepared