Weeks have gone by since Sabrina last saw Benedict. Barely able to decide what to feel-hurt , anger , or maybe just numbness-Sabrina didn't know how to handle the pain. Its absence had grown so ordinary that it almost felt easier to bear the load when he was not around, but loneliness weighed heavily on her during quiet mornings. She had grown accustomed to the sound of silence, but now it felt louder than ever.Recently, something else had changed. She hadn't been feeling well. Almost every morning, nausea greeted her, making it hard to keep anything down. She was exhausted, too, as if she were carrying a weight she couldn't see. At first, she dismissed it, thinking it was just the stress of everything with Benedict. Then her period didn't come. Days turned into weeks.With each passing morning as the cars rolled down the driveway while she lay there, she grew worried about whether she had to see where his car was or wasn't. She felt both a flicker of hope and a chill of fear at what
Sabrina sat alone in the dim light of early morning, shaking in her hands, clutching a positive pregnancy test. She stared at it and just could not understand what this little line meant to her. After all, she should have been experienced with this happenstance, bubbling over and full to the brim with delight. When she thought of being pregnant, it was under very different circumstances—sharing news with a husband who loved her, supported her, and cherished her. Now, the reality stared her in the face: she would bring this child into a world of broken silence with a man who hardly glanced at her, viewing her as an inconvenience. Hours later, Sabrina finally resolved to call Benedict again. She dialed his number, her heart pounding with the hope that somehow, someday, it would be enough to finally reach whatever small portion of his heart remained. This time, though, the ringing went straight to voicemail, and she whispered a message she had no hope of him ever hearing. "Benedict, it'
Sabrina is riding in the back of the car as it pulls toward Thompson Mansion, the grand estate her husband's family calls home. She stands out against the magnificent mansion, framed by tall gates and meandering grounds, like some castle where, honestly, she never really belonged. But tonight, dusk settling in a golden haze, Sabrina felt more disconnected than ever. Her world has shrunk, grown quiet. Benedict's absence cast a dark shadow over her life.She hadn't wanted to burden her mother-in-law, Teresa Thompson, with the news just yet. But with her mother, Leila, egging her on to tell Teresa, Sabrina knew it was time. Time to face the truth, and maybe, just maybe, seek a little solace.The car pulled up, and Sabrina stepped out, her body heavy with the weight of everything she hadn't shared. She hadn't expected this day to go smoothly. Nothing about her life seemed to go the way she wanted anymore.Leila was sitting on the porch, a calm smile on her face. She welcomed Sabrina into
As Sabrina settled back onto the pillows, a quiet resilience began to beat in her chest—a feeling she hadn't experienced in years. She allowed herself to glance around the room, letting reality sink in—she was going to be a mother with or without Benedict's approval or belief. Where she had once dreamed of their future together, she now realized that hers didn't need to end where his indifference began.She had spent so long trying to piece together the broken shards of their crippled marriage, hanging onto every crumb of affection that Benedict had dangled in her way, no matter how small or short-lived. It was freeing and terrifying. In the warm light of Teresa's encouragement, a new path lay before Sabrina, one of joy and strength untainted by Benedict's presence.She was carrying this child, a part of her, a new life she got to nurture and protect. And if Benedict refused to believe, if he turned his back on them, then so be it. She would give all the love, strength, and happiness
The next morning, Sabrina moved around the kitchen preparing breakfast when nausea hit her hard all of a sudden, almost doubling her over. Morning sickness had taken hold, leaving her weak and exposed. It was just then that she heard the creaking of the front door and the pounding inside her chest. That was the moment she had imagined a hundred times in her mind: the confrontation with Benedict. But when she saw the giant figure of Benedict standing there at the door, she lost some of that confidence.Benedict walked in. Dark shadows of dislike surrounded him. "If you want to puke Sabrina, don’t let me see it," he said in a tone dripping with sarcasm. "Honestly, do you really want to act like the dramatic pregnant woman now?"He was stabbing her with words full of cruel mockery that turned her inside out. Under the heavy weight of his judgment, she felt smothered, small, and inconsequential in comparison to him. It was more than a fight; it was a battle of wills, and inside her own m
Benedict hadn't come home again, but Sabrina was so accustomed to that becoming her reality. Nights turned into eternities of endless silences, and hope, clung to helplessly about his returning to her, slowly flew out the window. She had grown used to the emptiness; the hollow ache that arose from sharing a life with someone who hardly gave her a moment's notice. So, she went to the Thompson house, where she intended to visit her mother, Leila, who for the last twenty years had been the maid for Benedict's family. Memories of her childhood flooded through her mind as she stepped into the familiar mansion. There, after school, she spent a few hours with her mother, who folded laundry or prepared meals for the Thompsons. Even then, she’d catch glimpses of Benedict in the halls, though he never really noticed her. Years later, now she was his wife, yet he barely acknowledged her. It was in the kitchen that Sabrina encountered Leila, her mother's hands now bearing witness to years of se
The week was a haze of packing, paperwork, and goodbyes. Sabrina helped her mother move into a little house in her hometown, which, though modest, seemed warm and cozy. Her neighbors welcomed Leila with open arms. The place felt simple and warm again. Here, she was just Sabrina, not "Mrs. Thompson." She could breathe.Yet, as the days passed, an ache began to settle in her chest. She hadn't heard a single word from Benedict. No calls, no texts, nothing at all. A part of her was relieved—it was simpler to forget the ache of his indifference when he was away; however, as her day of departure grew closer, the hurt crept back in. She would return to an icy, hollow house, a husband barely looking at her, and a marriage that felt more like a punishment cell.Sabrina stayed a week in her mother's town, helping Leila settle in, making sure she had all the things she needed. She was comforted by all the familiar habits of home—toothpaste and shirts, the warmth of her mother's small but cozy ho
This was the nightmare journey back to the mansion, a cruel countdown, mile by mile bringing her closer to that reality she feared and had no choice but to face. Sabrina's heart is a tempest of emotions: dread, hurt, hope. Beneath it all, still clinging somewhere down deep, was the chance that maybe his coldness would turn around, and Benedict would prove he cares; that he'd call or text, asking when she'd be coming home. But the word of him was silence, this void that hollowed like an ache in her breast.When she finally opened the door to the mansion, night had fallen deep. It was dark-dark enough to feel ominous, like any feeling she had inside was dark. She parked outside the house and sat inside the car for a while as her fingers clutched the car wheel, as if clinging to it for life itself. Going inside, entering into the life that she chose to remain in, felt like entering a vacuum. But she had promised herself—and, thereby her child—that she would try.With a deep, steadying br
They had a future; they had a family, and nothing—no one—could take that away.But even as the warmth of the moment enveloped them, a small voice in the back of Benedict's mind continued to whisper. Clara's game wasn't over. She was just getting started.A few days into Clara's admission to the psychiatric facility, Benedict and Sabrina had attempted to move forward, focusing on their family and putting as much distance between themselves and the past as was humanly possible. But then came the jarring news once again: Clara was getting better. Her shenanigans were said to be stabilizing, and she was being rewarded with more privileges within the facility. Benedict, though, felt the sharp sting of suspicion. Clara was far too clever, too calculating, to just let herself get taken down by her own charade.She's acting. Benedict was sure of it.He stands in front of the window, and his eyes go blank as the sun sets with long shadows. His heart seems to want Clara gone, but his mind still
Benedict sat at the kitchen table, running his fingers over the rim of his coffee cup as steam curled up into the air and vanished into the morning light. The sun spat out rays that tenderly bathed the room, but the warmth did little to thaw the cold thoughts that gripped him. Clara transferring to the mental health facility had been unforeseen, but Benedict knew her too well. She was always on the next corner, always making the long play. It had already been years that they had last seen each other, but time and again every time he thought of getting out and away from her, she invented a new twist to bring him back. The soft sound of footsteps broke him out of his reverie, and he looked up to see Sabrina entering the room. The presence of her was like a balm to his soul. Her eyes were filled with quiet concern, soothing the harsh edges of his thoughts. Her steps were light, almost whispering in the air, as she walked toward him. "What's wrong, Benedict?" she asked with her soft but a
"You think you’ve won," Clara muttered, her voice low and venomous, the sound bouncing off the barren walls of her cell. "You think you’ve left me behind, but I’m not finished yet."For a long time, the oppressive silence of solitary confinement did not stifle her soul; it had ignited the flame of her fury. Every instant spent in that cold, empty box was tinder for her will. Clara's mind was frantically plotting and imagining scenarios. She clutched at each shred of hope for revenge as if it might be her savior.She would not allow them to beat her. The guards, nor the other prisoners. And especially Benedict and Sabrina, who actually thought they won.Clara kept to herself in the days that followed, her sharp gaze observing everything and everyone during her limited hours outside solitary. She listened intently, piecing together information, overheard conversations, and the intricate social web within the prison.There was power to be seized, even here. She just had to find the right
Inside California prison's bleak walls, an inmate named Clara Hemp remained obdurate in rebellion. Her fellow prisoner, who spoke with quick lips and hot tongue, called Dolores, was fed up with Clara's condescending nature. The strained relations between Clara Hemp and Dolores were now burning."You think you're better than all of us, don't you Clara?" Dolores spat out, slamming her metal tray on the small table in their cell. Her voice reverberated off the cold concrete walls as it drew in the attention of inmates sitting around them. "Your rich-girl attitude won't get you very far in here, princess."Clara sat on the lower bunk, crossing her arms and giving Dolores a disdainful look. "And you think you're some kind of authority here? Save your lecture. I don't have time for your pathetic attempts to feel superior."Dolores laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "Superior? Oh, honey, you're in the same cage as the rest of us. The only difference is, you still act like you're above it all. N
He pulled her panties down, then got into position with himself at her entrance. He looked up to see that she was prepared, then slid inside. She gasped under the pressure as she arched her back up and he fell onto her breast with his mouth.He started pumping himself into her, and with every movement, she panted. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him tight as his thrusts made her hips move further up on the mattress."Benedict," Sabrina moaned out. "Benedict please, I'm so close."He pulled his mouth from her breast, shaking his head as he pushed her hair back. "No angel. You don't get to cum until I say you can."She whined as a response, desperate for a release as he continued to pound into her. Despite her current state, Benedict grabbed her legs, wrapping them around his hips so he could fuck her deeper. She screamed with each thump, raising her hand and pressing it on his biceps as I pushed my hand on the curves. She burst into laughter to lighten up as he cont
She watched as Benedict slowly pulled down the cups of her bra, exposing her bare chest to him. His fingers slowly danced over her nipples in a taunting manner. she moaned softly, as he took a nipple into his mouth, sucking roughly while toying with her other breast.-nagend sa a casanova bedscene. "Benedict," she whimpered as he bit down. He pulled his mouth from her breast, making a popping sound, cocking his eyebrow at her. Hi moved his hands, slowly stroking her hips while teasing the waste bans of her stockings. "Yes, princess?" She writhed under his gaze, "Please touch me," I begged. He smiled, and began slowly to pull her stockings down."I think I said earlier that I am in charge of things here," he said as he pulled them off her legs, looking at her body as if he hadn't eaten for years. And suddenly, he has wrapped his hands around her thighs and spread them apart, leaning down and peppering her legs with soft kisses; the polar opposite of what was to come. Then he slowly made
The evening's music dwindled into silence, and it was time to let the guests take their leave, so Benedict and Sabrina remained by the grand entrance of the estate, waving everyone off. Hugs and words of warmth and congratulations sent waves of pure gratitude and exuberance within them. Saben, snug in Teresa's arms, was fast asleep, his little hand holding onto the lapel of her dress.The laughter and light of the evening had tired him out, but the soft smile on his face said volumes about his happiness, even in dreams. Penelope gave Sabrina one last playful nudge before heading off. “Don’t forget, Sab. I need all the wedding details first. Don’t you dare plan it without me!” Sabrina laughed, pulling her friend into a warm hug. “You’ll be the first to know, I promise. Thank you for everything, Pen.” When the car carrying Wendy Taylor and Leila Auburn arrived, both women extended their hands to Sabrina. Under the heavy chandeliers of the estate, Wendy's eyes sparkled as she kissed Sabri
It had been seven days since things had taken a turning point in the lives of Benedict and Sabrina, and she was finally getting ready to rejoice in their new love and her promise with him. The engagement ball was not an ordinary ballroom affair but represented all that they fought for—family, love, and resilience. And as evening fell, there was no sign that this would be one forgettable night.The place was an exquisite mansion located right in the middle of California. The huge ballroom glistened with class, adorned with soft ivory and gold drapes. The crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the soft warm, golden glow fell across the guests. Fresh roses and orchids were spread throughout, which matched the fresh greenery and elegant floral arrangements throughout the room. Everything was planned to the last minute because this was going to be one of the most important moments for Benedict and Sabrina.With people arriving, laughter and excitement filled the air. Sabrina and Be
For Benedict and Sabrina, all the roads had opened to endless possibilities of love, resilience, and the profound bond that could have been forged through battles both inside and out. Holding their hands tightly against each other, they boldly embarked into that bright light ahead, leaving the haunting shadows of Clara Hemp behind for good, ready for whatever followed next.As they drove through the beautiful Californian landscape, the weight of the confrontation slowly began to lift. Sabrina gazed out of the window, the golden fields stretching endlessly, mirroring the possibilities that lay ahead of them."Benedict," she began softly, turning to look at him. "Do you ever think about what would have happened if Clara hadn't come into our lives?"He caught her eye for just a second, then focused back on the road ahead, his hand tightly gripping the steering wheel without being overly so. "I've thought about it more times than I can count," he said finally. "But every time, I come to t