Chapter 11

Elizabeth

I stand in front of the mirror, carefully dragging the eyeliner pencil along my lash line.

I let out a soft giggle.

Why am I so excited? I quietly ask myself.

My hand trembles slightly, but I steady it.

It’s been so long since I’ve done this—applied my makeup with this much care. Since I applied my make excited to go somewhere, not to cover up my bruises. The soft golden light from the vanity bathes my reflection, making my pale skin glow. I press my lips together to smooth out the crimson lipstick, tilting my head to examine my work.

I look... different. It’s strange, almost foreign, but tonight I feel the need to see myself this way. I don’t know if it’s for Sebastian or for me.

The faint scent of my perfume lingers in the air.

It reminds me of who I used to be before Christopher—before his words, his fists, and his suffocating control stripped me down to something small, something invisible.

The house is so quiet. Too quiet. My chest tightens as my thoughts shift to Edward.

I miss him so much it hurts. His laughter that usually fills these empty hallways, his little footsteps running toward me for a hug. But not anymore. Christopher insisted on sending him to his mother’s this week. just another way to control me. To remind me that Edward is his, not ours.

I exhale slowly, shaking the thought away. Tonight isn’t about Edward. Or Christopher.

It’s about me.

And Sebastian.

My stomach flips as his name crosses my mind. My hands grip the edge of the vanity as I stare at my reflection.

What am I doing? I close my eyes, and his face appears instantly—those dark, intense eyes, the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his lips felt against mine earlier today in my office.

My heart races at the memory. He kissed me like I was something he needed, something he couldn’t live without.

I know I’m putting myself in a dangerous position.

If Christopher ever found out... I shudder at the thought, forcing it out of my mind.

Maybe I’m doing this because of all the years of neglect and the way Christopher chipped away at me piece by piece. Maybe I just want a little revenge. Or maybe it’s just Sebastian. The way he looks at me like I’m not broken, like I’m still worth something.

A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. “Mrs. Bell?” Agnes’s voice is gentle, hesitant.

I turn to see her standing in the doorway, her kind eyes scanning me. She smiles warmly. “You look beautiful tonight.”

I smile faintly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s Lizzy, Agnes. I’ve told you that a hundred times. No need for formalities.”

Her smile widens as she steps further into the room. “Well, Lizzy, you look radiant. I haven’t seen you like this in... well, a long time. It suits you.”

I glance back at the mirror, my lips tightening.

“You won’t tell Christopher, will you?” I try to keep my voice steady, but there’s a hint of pleading I can’t quite hide.

Agnes’s face softens as she moves closer.

“No. Of course not. I would never do that. You know that.” She pauses, lowering her voice. “I know what you go through. I’ve seen it. You have nothing to worry about with me.”

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, Agnes. He’s not a monster. He’s just... lost his way.” The words feel hollow even as I say them.

Agnes gives me a pointed look. “You don’t have to defend him, Lizzy. I’ve seen the bruises. I’ve helped you cover them. I’ve seen the way he talks to you, the way he... She stops herself, her voice trembling with anger. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

I swallow hard, my throat tightening. “He’s different with Edward. He’s gentle, kind. He loves him.”

“And what about you? Don’t you deserve that too?” She asks softly, her words cutting through me like a blade.

Before I can respond, the doorbell rings, its chime echoing through the house. Agnes glances toward the hallway. “I’ll get it.” She squeezes my arm gently before leaving the room.

I take a deep breath and turn back to the mirror.

My dress hugs my body in all the right ways, the deep green fabric shimmering under the light. The slit on the side is higher than I’d like, but it adds a touch of daring I haven’t felt in years. I smooth the fabric over my hips, taking one last look at myself.

It’s been so long since I’ve dressed up for anyone. Not for Christopher. Not for myself. Not for anyone. Tonight feels different. Dangerous.

I grab my coat and step into the hallway, my heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor. My heart pounds as I reach the front door and see him standing there. Sebastian.

He looks even better than I remembered. His dark hair is slightly tousled, his suit perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders and lean frame. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s holding its breath.

Agnes steps aside, giving me a reassuring smile. “Have fun, Lizzy. You deserve it.”

Sebastian’s lips curve into a slow smile as his eyes sweep over me. “You look incredible,” he says, his voice low and smooth.

“Thank you.” My voice comes out softer than I intended—almost a whisper.

He steps forward, holding out his hand. “Ready?”

I hesitate, my eyes flickering to Agnes. She nods subtly, her expression encouraging. I slip my hand into Sebastian’s, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down my spine. As I step outside, the cool evening air brushes against my skin, and for the first time in years, I feel... free. Or maybe I’m just pretending.

Sebastian leads me to his car, his hand never leaving mine. He opens the door for me, his movements smooth and practiced.

“I don’t think I said it properly,” he says, his voice softer now. “You’re stunning, Lizzy.”

A blush creeps up my neck as I slip into the seat, the leather cool beneath me. “Thank you,” I murmur, adjusting the hem of my dress. The slit rides up my thigh, and I tug it down, suddenly self-conscious.

Sebastian rounds the car and slides into the driver’s seat.

He turns to me, his gaze intense.

Without warning, he leans in, his hand cupping the back of my neck as his lips crash into mine. It’s not gentle. It’s not tentative. It’s hungry, possessive, and it sets my skin on fire.

I gasp against his mouth, my body reacting instinctively. My hands find his shoulders, and for a moment, I forget about everything—Christopher, Edward, the consequences.

When he finally pulls back, his lips curve into a crooked smile. “Hi.”

I laugh softly, my cheeks burning. “Hi.”

“I’ve been thinking about doing that all day,” he admits, his voice rough and unsteady.

I turn to look out the window, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. My heart races, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. “Where are we going?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s a surprise,” he says, his hand resting casually on the steering wheel. His other hand drifts to my thigh, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of my dress.

I inhale sharply but don’t move his hand. Instead, I lean back in my seat, letting the warmth of his touch spread through me. For the first time in years, I feel something I thought I’d lost. I feel alive.