Sabrina jolted awake, her heart racing with a raucous laugh echoing down from downstairs. It was 1:00 AM by the clock on her nightstand, and something was creating an unsettling knot in her stomach. That kind of laughter made her skin crawl, an unsettling mix of joy and something darker. She crawled out of bed and rubbed her eyes for the sleep as she took steps one by one, with each one becoming a source of tension leading up to herself.Just as she was turning into the living room, that's when she first saw the sight. This tore apart whatever heart was still left for her. Benedict, her husband, lay sprawled across the sofa, surrounded by two beautiful women who laughed and leaned into him, their faces flushed from what Sabrina could only assume was alcohol. His laughter boomed out, and the warmth he had always kept for her was now being liberally dispensed upon these strangers."Benedict!" she shouted, working at keeping her voice even, though it shivered under the load of fear. "Wha
With newfound resolve, Sabrina brushed away her tears and took a moment to pull herself together. She could not let Benedict's words chip away at her self-esteem anymore. Deep inside, she knew she was better than just being a wife in a loveless marriage. She was a strong woman who could conquer any form of adversity.It made her blood boil as she walked back into the living room to find Benedict stretched out across the couch, laughing and flirting with the two women. She inhaled deep to let anger fuel her determination. "I deserve respect," she thought to herself, pounding in her chest."Benedict," she called, her voice strong and steady. He looked up, a flash of surprise crossing his face before it smoothed out into a smirk."What now, maid?" he returned dismissively, reclining himself, his arm loosely curved over Jenny's shoulder. "I thought you were on drink service."."I'm done being your maid," she said, moving forward on him, her heart pounding. "I'm not going to let you disres
The following morning, Sabrina woke up to a thumping vibration on the bed, by her bedside table-that of her phone. Her rubbing eyes went out looking for and retrieved it. What amazement she found seeing on the screen. 'Teresa Thompson', to whom she had talked once over the phone before entering into the company. For such important events, it required attending by all top rank officers of the firm Benedict owned."Hello, Teresa," Sabrina replied, trying to be as bright as possible, though the sting of last night still lingered in her head."Good morning, Sabrina! Hope I didn't wake you. I wanted to inform you that we are having a company event tomorrow evening at the Grand Ballroom. It's going to be a big deal, and we need everyone there—especially Benedict. It's important for the company image."Hope flared in Sabrina. "Of course, I'll remind him. He wouldn't want to miss it, would he?""He doesn't know how important this is," Teresa said vaguely. "He's been. distracted lately."Sabri
She found some strength to go to Benedict, and the laughter and the music faded into the background as she focused on the man who had become both her pain and, in the strangest way, her resistance. The longer she had been at the event, she realized she didn't need his validation but the thought of confronting him, standing up to him even in the smallest ways, felt like a much-needed long-overdue obligation.She came upon him as he played host to a small circle of admirers. They laughed a little too hard, their eyes flicking between him and Sabrina as she closed in on them. Her heart started racing, her hands closing tight around her clutch."Benedict," she said, her voice calm but firm. His gaze fell on her, and his smile died out, replaced by annoyance."What is it?" he said coolly, his voice laced with irritation."We need to talk," she said, forcing herself to meet his steely gaze. She could feel the eyes of the onlookers darting between them, sensing the tension.Benedict smirked,
But for the first time, she felt like she could breathe again; as if the weight of his disdain had finally started to lift. Her heart still hurt and the ache of his rejection still throbbed, but a new strength was simmering beneath the surface. She had faced him, stood up to him, and reclaimed a part of herself that she had lost in the shadow of their broken marriage.As she disappeared in the crowd, along with admirers who never knew the man behind that mask of smiles, Sabrina made herself a promise silently. No more getting held captive to his meanness. No more letting him tear apart the person she was trying to find.Tonight had been a small victory, a spark of defiance that would eventually lead to her liberation. She did not know how or when, but one day, she will leave this broken marriage for good. And on the day she would, she would be stronger, more courageous, and more braver than she had ever felt before. Turning back to the party, she rejoined the crowd, quiet determinatio
Sabrina turned around, the pulsating energy of the dance floor fading behind her. As she spun around with this intoxicating mix of freedom and reckless abandon in her veins, her laughter would have cut through the cacophony of the party like a tune that was so sweet to be savored. She had been free for what had seemed like a blissful few moments, lost to the rhythm of the music, the warmth of people. Concerns that had been growing for so long about Benedict—the spaced-out look in his eyes and the unspoken words lingering between them—became a memory. She lived, pulsed, breathed for the night to hold her folded within its folds.But as the hours went by and the drinks kept pouring, a heaviness started settling in her mind. She blinked away the blur of bright lights as dizziness washed over her. She breathed into herself to try to get her bearings."Hey, I'm going out to get some air," she called out to Claire, who continued to spin and laugh, totally lost in her own bliss.Claire barely
By the time Benedict reached the house, he had plenty to utter about his distaste, yet he dragged himself up those stairs with Sabrina in tow. She was drunk enough she could not even move on her own, and the wreckage of her tantrum swayed in the heavy unspoken tension between them like a pendulum. Benedict laid her slack form over in the bathroom and carefully settled her in the tub. Just when he would have let her go, she forward leaned and, in the most disgusting display imaginable, hurled all over his chest."Are you freakin' kidding me? " he mumbled, disgusted by the look on his face. He quickly shrugged out of his suit jacket and recoiled, wincing as he tried to scrub the stench off of his body. But with his movements, Sabrina's bleary gaze snapped to him, her drunkard eyes locking onto his cut torso. She blinked, and a drowsy smile spread across her face."Wow… abs," she slurred, reaching out to pinch his stomach playfully. She bent forward before he could respond, pressing her
Sabrina closed her eyes as warm water dripped, mingling the droplets with her tears. Standing there in the warmth, she wished she could wash her heart turmoil with soothing warmth. The echo of Benedict's words clung in her mind; every syllable dug into her hurt soul even further.She did love him, she reflected, her heart breaking because of the admission. "But does he even care?" Not a whit, it would seem. She could sense the warmth of the bath enveloping her as small comfort, but no heat could numb the chill over marriage the apathy had cast for her. She clenched her fists, letting sadness and hurt into her. But also, she said, determination that churned beneath the surface.As she scrubbed at her skin, trying to get rid of the leftovers of the evening—the smell of alcohol, the bitterness of betrayal, the weight of loneliness—her will began to harden. "I can manage this pain for now," she whispered to herself, voice quivering but resolute. "I will survive, I will survive. But if he
The courtroom was charged. Journalists slouched forward, pen tips hovered above notebooks. Cameras clicked quietly, capturing every concerned face. The air reeked with the scent of waxed wood and unspoken gravitas.Eliana sat on the plaintiffs' side of the bench, putting her hands over her lap. Bruises on both cheeks had lost their color, but the cuts from what she had endured were still pink and raw-looking. Her attorney, Margaret Lin, to her right, pored over papers with deliberate purpose.Across the aisle, William Harper sat, stone-faced. Leaning forward before him, whispering into his ear, was his attorney, Mitchell Crane. William remained silent. His eyes were on Eliana, a tempest brewing behind them.Judge Ramirez appeared, and the courtroom rose. She sat, gavel tapped once to bring the court to order."Be seated," she commanded.Margaret stood and pushed her glasses up. "Your Honor, the prosecution would like to bring Eliana Thompson forward as a witness."Eliana stood from he
Beneath the chilly gust blowing onto her cheeks, Eliana did not realize that she had been crying thus far.Sufficient to say, outside the courtroom proper, in the hallway, there were whispers between reporters and lawyers, and whisperings suspiciously filled the air. Cameras clicked outside of her peripheral vision, but she glided through them all like a ghost in her own existence."Eliana!" a voice shouted.She whirled around to see Benedict approaching her, his expression white with anxiety. For someone who was renowned for keeping emotions sequestered behind a closed vault, his eyes betrayed him now—fear, remorse, heartache."I ought to have predicted this," he muttered, clasping her shoulders firmly. "I should have known they would aim at you.""You couldn't have stopped it," she murmured, but her voice shook. "He hates you, Dad. And he used me to hurt you.""I did this. Paul Harper's destruction was at my hands. His son's fury—it all stems from what I did.""You didn't ruin them.
The courtroom hummed with anticipation, all the seats filled to capacity by witnesses whose mutters and papers shuffling created the atmosphere. The front bench symbolized the same justice most of them had arrived anticipating today's verdict to render.Eliana Thompson sat poised on the witness stand, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Nineteen years old, she was placed in a situation older than her years, but her eyes were steadfast, her voice unflappable.In the corner of the room, William Harper sat at the defense table, his face impassive. Paul Harper's son, a disgraced former board member of BMX Estates, William's presence was a harsh reminder of previous betrayals and the extremes to which revenge could propel a man.The prosecution lawyer, Delgado, walked up to the stand."Miss Thompson," Delgado started, "can you tell us about your relationship with the defendant?"Eliana nodded. "We went to the same university. Our encounters were brief—friendly nods, nothing more.""No ro
"Acknowledged," Judge Ramirez answered.The courtroom heard. William's voice echoed in the room."You think your family's above the law? I'll demonstrate power."Sabrina held Benedict's hand. Saben's fists were balled.Eliana's voice on the tape shook as she pleaded with him to stop.The courtroom was silent when the audio stopped.Mitchell rose. "Miss Thompson, isn't it a fact that you two had a history together?"Eliana blinked. "We went to school together. That's all.""No romantic history?""At all.""Maybe he misunderstood your relationship."Eliana gave him a glare. "No. He knew what he was doing."Mitchell took a step back.Then the detective, then the medical team. Each described a picture of meticulous planning, evidence, and motive.The defense final witness was a psychiatrist."Mr. Harper has unresolved trauma and delusions. Although he knew right from wrong, his emotions clouded his judgment."But Delgado stood up and asked one question."Did he know what he was doing when
The acrid odor of antiseptics wafted on, sterile and heavy. It hung in well-lit passageways in St. Martin General Hospital, echoing off tiled floors scrubbed spotless. Nurses rushed through, their soft-sold footwear barely making any sound as they blazed through doors to a room, bringing medication and checking vital signs. There was a single passageway that differed.Two uniformed police officers stood outside Room 312 like granite statues, staring and unblinking. They loomed oppressively over the otherwise antiseptic air. Within, the man they were instructed to protect lay unconscious, strapped to monitors and IVs.William Harper was in no way the towering figure the world was used to having beforehand. He was pinched and gaunt to the face, lips dry and cracked, and a wide bandage across his forehead. There was the soft beep of the heart monitor, slow. He breathed, but little else.Detective Arthur Payne stepped into the room with a determined but even gait. His black overcoat moved
Not anymore.Stepping out of the police station into the chill of early dawn, Sabrina wrapped her coat around herself and glanced at Benedict."We are not going home straight away, are we?" Sabrina asked."No," he said. "We are going to the hospital.""Eliana has to rest—""She's going to be lying in front of that motherfucker Harper in a hospital bed," Benedict growled. "I will have to contend with him.""Dad." Eliana attempted.But Benedict was already off, jaw set.They went in two cars. Damian drove with Saben and Eliana and Sabrina in the rear of the second car with Benedict. There was tension. There was an atmosphere of oppression all around them and a heavy buildup of tension.Within the vehicle, Damian addressed her. "You had do well to avoid the hospital for the moment, El."Eliana raised an eyebrow. "Why?""Because Benedict Thompson and William Harper at the same location? That's not a family reunion I'd care to have front-row seats to."Saben growled, "He's correct."Eliana
INT. POLICE STATION – NIGHT TO EARLY MORNINGSA hum of quiet voices echoed in the tiny police station. A sweet chemical scent of metallic disinfectant hung in the air, mixing with the acrid scent of old coffee. Soft hums filled the air from fluorescent lights overhead.Eliana sat still on a bench beside the corner, wrapped in a rough gray blanket an officer had provided. Her cheek was bandaged, bruised just below her jawline. Her own hands shook a little tighter, though she had them concealed in her lap.Damian leaned against the wall across from her, arms crossed and blood still congealing on his sleeve from a cut on his forearm. Nathaniel stood further off, alone, his face pale, his shirt covered in soot and gunpowder. He'd hardly uttered a word since he made his statement.The double doors of the station burst open with a creaking crash."Eliana!"She shifted her attention rapidly. There they were — her family.Sabrina, lovely even when panicked, ran first. Her coat hung over one s
The door of the warehouse creaked open as she slipped within.The air reeked with sweat, metal, and danger.Fluorescent light buzzed overhead. Footsteps—quiet, measured—rang off metal beams.She glided like a phantom, every step measured. Over rusty crates and scattered trash, her breathing harmonized. She didn't recoil at the groans or distant clatters.Until—"Hello, Eliana."She stopped.A man emerged from behind the warehouse, out of the darkness. Tall. In a new charcoal suit. Thin, satisfied smile on his mouth.One of William Harper's finest enforcers."Mr. Harper sends his regards," he said, his voice silky with poison. "He thought you'd show up."Her teeth were gritted. "Of course he did. He always did enjoy the dramatic entrance.".The man laughed. "He said you were predictable. Guess he was right.""You've been chasing my family like it's a game.""Your father started this. Exposed a man who created legacies. Hospitals. Universities. You all pretend like you're the heroes, bu
But she turned slowly, so that he could see the hurt unfettered in her eyes.I never locked you out, Nathaniel," she whispered. "You just never came close enough to linger."And with that, she departed, the chill night air nipping at her skin. The darkness closed in around her like an old friend long forgotten.She did not glance back.Not when the world was weighed in the balance.The wind wailed as Eliana stepped outside onto the porch, the door slamming behind her like the last stroke on the end of a difficult page. But before she could put a foot beyond the stairs—"Leaving without me?"She faltered. Damian lingered by the edge of the cabin, moonlight glinting off of his dark jacket only accentuating the scar near his jaw more than ordinary. His face showed unreadable expressions, but his eyes-those burning, watchful eyes-were locked on her.The air caught in her throat.“Damian.”He took a step forward, hands in his coat pockets. “You said the extraction would be at midnight. It’