Elizabeth“What are you up to, Christopher?” I ask, my voice steady, but my heart thunders beneath my chest.Christopher’s eyes narrow slightly as he steps closer, slow and deliberate, like a predator testing its prey. “Can’t I be worried about you, Lizzy?” he asks softly, his tone unsettlingly calm.Worried about me? A bitter laugh almost escapes me, but I swallow it back.Edward shifts in my arms, his little hands gripping my shoulders. I force myself to smile down at him, hiding the tension from his innocent eyes. “Go to your room, sweetheart,” I whisper gently, kissing the top of his head. “I’ll come find you soon, okay?”Edward hesitates, looking back at his father before nodding and running toward the hallway, his little footsteps echoing off the walls.Christopher doesn’t take his eyes off me. I don’t want Edward to see what might happen next. He’s already seen too much. I move quickly, brushing past Christopher before he can say anything else. The ache in my ribs flares up as
SebastianThe door to my office swings open so forcefully that the hinges groan. I lift my head; it’s Celeste. She stands there, wild-eyed, her cheeks flushed with anger.“Why did you fire me?” she demands. Her voice is sharp and unwavering.I exhale slowly, keeping my calm as I lean back in my chair.“First of all, watch your tone, Celeste,” I say, my voice steady but cold.“And secondly, I don’t have to explain myself to you.” I pause for a beat, letting the words settle. “But if I must, it’s because you cannot be trusted.”Her lips part slightly, and I can see the confusion in her eyes as she processes my words.She takes a step forward, her heels clicking hard against the floor.“I can’t be trusted?” she spits out, her tone incredulous. “Why?”I rest my hands on the desk and look at her carefully.“Look at your conduct in this office,” I say evenly, my words laced with a quiet accusation. It’s enough to make her bristle.I know what I mean. Her affair with Christopher and what the
ElizabethI lift myself up on the table in the small cabin. A nice gift from Sebastian, but I cannot enjoy it.My head feels heavy, and my chest aches in ways I can’t describe. I pull myself together slowly, my bare feet touching the cold wooden floor as I stand.My legs wobble from the intense fuck that I had begged for. I steady myself with a deep breath.I wanted Sebastian to make me feel something—anything other than this hollow, suffocating emptiness. I wanted him to bring me back to life.“Take me for a drink,” I say, turning around to face him. My voice is flat, almost cold.Sebastian sits up from the table, his brows furrowed in confusion.“What do you mean, Elizabeth?” he asks, his tone careful, almost hesitant.“Take me drinking,” I repeat, crossing my arms over my chest. “To a bar. Somewhere loud, somewhere I can forget myself.”He stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. “What if someone sees us?”“What if they do?” I ask back, my eyes boring into his. “I don’t care.”H
SebastianShe’s been passed out for hours now. Her chest rises and falls in a slow, steady rhythm, her face turned to the side, strands of dark hair clinging to her flushed cheeks. I sit in the chair across from the bed, watching her.I should’ve left her there, at that godforsaken bar. I should’ve walked away and let her deal with the mess she created. But instead, I’d carried her out like some tragic hero.What the hell was she thinking?I stand, my body tense, and start pacing the length of the room. My fists clench and unclench at my sides, and my jaw aches from how hard I’m grinding my teeth.“What the fuck, Elizabeth?” I mutter to myself, running a hand through my hair. “What the fuck is going on with you?”She stirs, her brows furrowing slightly before her eyes flutter open. For a second, she looks dazed, her gaze darting around the room as if trying to piece together where she is.Then she stretches her arms and yawns, and I know what’s coming next. Her face pales, her hand fl
SebastianI stand in the massive bathroom, steam curling up around me as I adjust the temperature of the water. The tub sits like a throne in the centre of the room, claw-footed and deep, the kind of bath that demands you stay in it for hours.This bathroom is a sanctuary, a place for comfort and escape—two things Elizabeth desperately needs right now.I glance back toward the door, my mind racing.She’s in pain; I know that much. Last night wasn’t just about the alcohol or the chaos—it was about her running from something, drowning in something. And now, here she is in my home, far from hers, far from the office.What if someone notices? What if Christopher starts asking questions? What if someone pieces it together—her absence, mine?I shake the thought away. I can’t leave her. Not like this. She needs me, and as much as I hate to admit it, I need to be here for her.I head back to the bedroom. She’s sitting up now, the tray I left earlier completely empty. The sight pleases me more
ElizabethThe bed feels too soft beneath me, almost as though it’s swallowing me whole. My body aches—not in the way it used to after nights with Christopher—but from something raw, passionate, and entirely unrestrained.My muscles remember Sebastian’s touch even if my mind doesn’t want to dwell on it. It’s done now. I have become comfortable being a cheat.I’ve showered; I tried to scrub his scent off my skin and bury the guilt deep down.I stare at the ceiling, the faint hum of the heater filling the silence.Edward. My son. His chubby hands clutching my dress. His adorable face on mine. My chest tightens. What if Christopher never lets me see him again? What if he uses last night as the excuse he needs to cut me out of Edward’s life forever? No, I will not let him.A lump forms in my throat, but I swallow it down. There’s nothing I can do right now—not yet. Not with Christopher pulling every string, holding my trust fund hostage, and controlling the air I breathe.The door creaks o
Sebastian"No, sebastine." Elizabeth snaps, her voice slicing through the air like a blade.The word isn’t loud, but it’s firm—unshakable. Her eyes burn with an anger that shakes me to my core, but beneath it, I see something worse: confusion. Betrayal. Pain. I stand there frozen, fists clenched at my sides, my stomach twisting into knots. The tension in the room is unbearable. It feels like the air has been sucked out, leaving only a heavy, suffocating weight behind.I want to speak, to make her stay, to say the right thing—but how? Elizabeth is already moving, her hands trembling as she begins searching for her clothes. Her movements are frantic, almost wild, like she’s trying to claw her way out of this nightmare. “Elizabeth,” I manage to say, my voice low and steady, though every nerve in my body screams at me to yell, to beg her not to leave.“You can never go back to Christopher. I mean it.” She freezes, her back to me, her hand hovering over her discarded dress.Slowly, she
ElizabethThe moment we step into the living room, I feel my breath catch in my throat. My heart drops, thudding painfully in my chest as my eyes land on the massive portrait hanging above the fireplace mantle.The woman’s piercing blue eyes seem to follow me as I take hesitant steps forward, her golden blonde hair falling in perfect waves around her delicate face. Her expression is soft but haunting, her beauty almost unreal. I can’t look away.It can’t be, I think to myself, my pulse quickening. My hands feel clammy, my head light. I know that face. I know her.“Sarah,” I whisper under my breath, the name feeling foreign yet familiar as it passes my lips.This is Sebastian’s wife?My head feels like it’s going to explode. Sarah. My Sarah. She’s dead?The room tilts slightly as the realisation crashes into me like a wave.I glance at Sebastian out of the corner of my eye, trying to gauge if he can see the recognition written all over my face. His sharp gaze is locked on me, and I kno
Elizabeth The common room hums with a low murmur of voices, the occasional scrape of a chair against the tile floor, the shuffle of slippers as patients wander aimlessly.I sit in the corner, book in hand, though I haven't turned a page in the last ten minutes. My eyes skim over the words, but I don’t absorb them. I’ve learned to pretend—pretend to be cooperative, pretend to trust Dr. Maggie, pretend I’m nothing more than ‘Jane,’ a quiet, submissive patient who no longer questions why she’s here. But I’m not Jane. And I’ll never be. The moment I let my guard down, the moment I stop pretending, they’ll make sure I never leave this place. So I wait. I watch. I listen. Then, something changes. A commotion stirs outside the common room. Footsteps—urgent, heavy. Voices, low but firm. I lift my head. Across the room, Dr. Maggie storms in, her face pale, eyes darting around like she’s expecting someone to jump out and grab her. “Come with me, Jane. Now.” Her voice is sharp,
Elizabeth“Who knew Seattle had so many psychiatric hospitals?” Eric’s voice cuts through the tense silence as he thumbs through the list on his phone, the light from the screen illuminating his face in the dim confines of my car. I glance at him from the driver’s seat, exhaustion weighing heavily on both of us. The rain streaks down the windshield, the rhythmic tapping a sharp contrast to the frustration brewing between us. “I’m starting to think that we might not find her, I mean what if they moved her somewhere else?” I mutter, gripping the steering wheel tighter. My knuckles are white, and my patience is nonexistent. Eric exhales loudly, his head dropping back against the seat. “None of the hospitals have confirmed or denied her presence. It's the same rehearsed answers every time: ‘We can’t share patient information. Privacy laws. Blah, blah, blah.’” “What the hell are we going to do?” I snap, my frustration boiling over. Eric doesn’t answer immediately, his mind churn
SebastianThe cottage sits in a clearing, its weathered wooden exterior blending into the dense background. The air is cool, and heavy with the scent of damp earth and pine. I sit on the old porch steps, nursing a tumbler of coffee in one hand, my phone in the other. Eric leans against the railing, his sharp features drawn tight with frustration, while James, broad and rough around the edges, paces the dirt path in front of us, the gravel crunching beneath his boots. "What did they find?" James bellows, his Southern drawl thicker than usual, a clear sign he’s losing his patience. Eric sighs, running a hand through his hair. "The men went to the location where the video was taken," he begins. "Elizabeth was there. Witnesses say she was taken by two men. They work for some asylum. Beyond that, I don’t have many details." I interrupt, the weight of my own thoughts pressing against my chest. "Celeste knows I was sleeping with Elizabeth." Both men stop what they’re doing and star
ChristopherI storm into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me. My coat slips from my shoulders, falling to the floor in a heap, but I don't care. My mind is too clouded with rage, and frustration gnawing at every fiber of my being. My chest tightens with every breath I take, and my hands are trembling—whether from anger or exhaustion, I don’t know anymore. Sebastian Valdez. That name alone makes my blood boil. He has taken everything from me—my company, my goddamn legacy. Bell Energies was my birthright, my family's empire, and now it's rotting in his filthy hands. I want to rip him apart, piece by piece, watch him suffer like I have these past few months. The thought consumes me, fuels my every waking moment. I stop in my tracks, my pulse pounding in my ears. A flash of red catches my eye. I freeze. The figure stands near the window, facing away from me, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights spilling through the curtains. Long, flowing red hair cascades dow
ElizabethI turn around slowly, her soft voice still playing in my ears. She stands there—tall, striking. Her red hair cascades over her pale shoulders, framing a face that feels oddly familiar. Her green eyes, bright yet holding something deeper, meet mine with a mix of curiosity and warmth. "Hey," I say, my voice unsure, testing the word on my tongue. "Hi," she replies with a friendly smile. "I'm Sarah." Sarah. The name hits me like a wave, crashing into my chest and leaving me breathless. I don’t know why, but it feels... significant. Familiar in a way that makes no sense. The connection is instant and electric, and I don't understand it. Sarah sits across from me, her movements light, almost too graceful for a place like this. "What’s your name?" she asks, her voice laced with an innocent curiosity like she’s eager to know me. I hesitate, a lump forming in my throat. "I... I don't remember," I admit, forcing a small, awkward smile. "They call me Jane here." Sa
SebastianI pace the length of my office, my footsteps heavy against the polished floor. My jaw is clenched so tightly it hurts, but I don’t care. My thoughts are racing, each one more frantic than the last. "Find out where that video was taken," I bark at my assistant. My voice comes out sharper than I intended, but I don’t have the patience to care. She nods briskly, her eyes wide with urgency, and rushes out without another word. The door shuts behind her, leaving me and eric alone with the deafening silence and my pounding heart. Then, Eric’s voice explodes through the quiet, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. "She's alive, Dad!" His voice cracks with raw emotion. "She's alive!" I freeze. Eric lowers the phone slowly, his fingers trembling, and turns to face me. A wide grin stretches across his face, pure relief radiating from him like a beacon. For a moment, I just stare at him, the words echoing in my mind. She's alive. Relief crashes over me, so sudden and
ElizabethThe room is dark, but I can still make out the shapes of the walls, the shadows pooling in the corners. This place feels like a prison, and I’ve been counting every second since I woke up here. The padded walls mock me, their softness hiding the cruelty of my situation. My legs feel restless, and my body wired with tension. I’ve been staying in my room, pretending to sleep, watching, waiting. They think I’ve given up. I haven’t. Dr. Maggie’s face flashes in my mind. That fake smile she gave me when she said the flyers were distributed. "Someone will call," she said with such conviction as if she cared. But I knew the truth when I saw the flyers crumpled in her bin. She lied to me. She doesn’t want me to leave. I can’t stay here anymore. I glance at the small pile of items I’ve managed to gather: Dr. Maggie’s stolen keycard, a long coat swiped from a visitor weeks ago. I’ve been planning this for a month, using every moment to map out routines, shifts, and patte
SebastianIt’s been a month. Thirty days since the explosion that almost killed off the Alexanders. A month since Christopher lost his place at Bell Energies and I stepped into his shoes.Shoes that don’t fit and probably never will. All I have dreamt of for years was to get my revenge on Christopher, but I am not enjoying it.And yet, here I am, sitting at this goddamn desk, staring at reports and contracts, pretending like any of this matters. None of it does. Not without Elizabeth. Not without the woman pilling at my heartstrings. Not without our baby. I run a hand through my hair, leaning back in the chair that still reeks of Christopher’s cologne. The office feels suffocating, the air stale, and every corner a reminder of him. He’s too quiet these days, playing along like some obedient lapdog. But I know better. I know him. A cornered animal is the most dangerous kind. Whatever Christopher is planning, it’ll be calculated, brutal, and thorough. He’s not done. Not by a long sho
ElizabethThe fire roars. The images still fresh in my mind. Even with my eyes open, the flames are still there, burning brighter and hotter than anything I’ve ever seen.The heat, the smoke choking me, the sheer helplessness… It’s all so vivid, so real, like it’s still happening.I blink rapidly, trying to push the memories away.My hands grip the edges of the blanket wrapped around me, knuckles white.Someone tried to kill me. Here. In this hospital. In this place I’m supposed to be safe.But I’m not safe.I sit in the sterile room with its pale walls and the faint scent of antiseptic, trying to make sense of everything. My head pounds with frustration.I don’t know who I am. I don’t know why someone would want to kill me. And worst of all, I don’t know where I belong.“Jane. Jane!”I look up at the sound of Dr. Maggie’s voice, startled. It takes me a moment to remember that’s what she calls me now. Jane. It feels foreign, like wearing someone else’s clothes.Dr. Maggie’s kind eyes