ChristopherEverything is moving in slow motion.My mind feels like it’s swimming through molasses, stuck on Elizabeth’s words.How did she know about Sarah? How could she possibly know?It’s been years. I buried that part of my life so deep I thought it would never resurface. I made sure of it. And yet, somehow, she knows.I stare blankly at the wall, the voices of Elizabeth and Celeste fading into the background.What brought this back?Why is she suddenly so defiant, so bold?The Elizabeth I know—knew—was meek, a shadow of herself, broken under my control.But this Elizabeth, screaming accusations and wielding truths like weapons, is someone else entirely.I don’t hear the crash right away.It’s the sharp intake of Celeste’s gasp that jolts me back.My head snaps up, and then I hear it—the sound of wood splintering, something heavy hitting the floor below.I turn and run, my legs moving before my mind can catch up. Bursting out of the study, I see Celeste standing near the broken b
ChristopherElizabeth looks even paler now.Her dark hair fans out against the blood-stained rug, her face motionless, her body eerily still.My eyes keep darting to her neck, where faint bruises—the unmistakable imprint of my hands—are beginning to form. I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears, deafening me.How did it come to this?“Explain, Christopher.” My mother’s sharp voice cuts through the chaos in my mind.Celia stands with her arms crossed, her cold blue eyes fixed on me, demanding answers.I open my mouth, but no words come out.I swallow hard, my throat dry and scratchy.“I... I came home,” I begin, my voice trembling. “We found her in the study.”“We?” she repeats, raising an eyebrow.“Celeste and I,” I admit, feeling a pang of guilt as I glance at the woman who’s caused just as much trouble as I have.“And?” Celia prompts, her tone growing more impatient.“I gave her the divorce papers,” I say, gesturing vaguely toward Elizabeth’s crumpled form. “She... she lost it. Star
ChristopherI stare at myself in the mirror of the downstairs bathroom.I can see the paleness on my face, my eyes bloodshot and hollow, like I haven’t slept in days.Sweat clings to my forehead even though the room feels cold.My hands tremble as I pull on the yellow gloves, the snap echoing in the tiled silence.On the counter beside me are everything Martin told me to get—bleach, water, and a sponge.I grip the edge of the sink, trying to steady myself. This was supposed to be simple, I remind myself.Just clean up the mess. Get rid of the evidence. But as I pick up the bucket and step out of the bathroom, my legs feel heavy, like I’m wading through thick hot tar.The smell hits me before I even see the stain.It’s faint but metallic, sharp enough to turn my stomach. And when I see it—the dried blood on the hardwood floor—something inside me snaps.My knees buckle as I drop the bucket to the floor, staring at the mess. Elizabeth’s blood.My chest tightens, and I feel like I can’t b
ChristopherI pull up to the driveway, gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles ache.The house looks eerily pristine, almost too perfect, like something out of a staged photo. It’s the same house, the same driveway, the same front porch—but the heaviness, the darkness that had stained this place, weighs me down.The bannister in the corridor—where the wood had splintered under Elizabeth’s weight when she fell—is freshly fixed.The bloodstains that were streaked across the tiles are gone, scrubbed away so completely it’s as if they never existed.It’s jarring.Stepping inside the living room, I pause. The air smells like lemons and fresh paint. Too clean. The weight on my chest hasn’t lifted, though. If anything, it presses harder.The mother of my child, an innocent woman, someone I have known since high school, might die, and I am not okay with that.My mother’s doing; she has taught me to be cold and calculative. She’s always had a knack for making things disappear—problems, people
SebastianI dial her number again, pressing the phone to my ear. My hand trembles slightly. The voice on the other end is cold, detached. The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. The words hit me like a punch to the gut.I pull the phone away and stare at the screen as if willing it to work.Nothing.With a frustrated sigh, I shove the phone into my pocket, my pulse pounding in my ears.Could Elizabeth really be this angry? Has she cut me off completely? She hasn’t come to the office in weeks. Not a single call, not a text. The silence is unbearable. I start pacing my office, the polished floor creaking under my hurried steps.A pit grows in my stomach, deep and unrelenting, like something heavy and sharp is lodged inside me. What if something happened to her?No, no, no. I whisper the denial under my breath, shaking my head. Christopher’s been around—he looks normal, smug as always.If he’d done something to her, surely he’d show it. Wouldn’t he? "Argh!" I groa
SebastianThe room is dimly lit, the curtains drawn tight. My security team and private investigator sit around me, their expressions hard and focused.These are men I trust, men who get results. My fingers drum on the table as I glance at each of them.“I need you to find someone,” I say, my voice sharp, commanding. “Her name is Elizabeth. She’s… a friend.”One of the men raises an eyebrow. “Who is she, boss? What’s her story?”“She’s a friend,” I repeat firmly, not wanting to explain further.“Just find her. But do not engage. If you see her, if you find anything, you call me immediately. Is that clear?”They nod in unison, murmuring their agreements before getting up to leave the room.The door closes behind them, and silence falls.I sit back in my chair, the weight in my chest growing heavier. My phone buzzes on the table, pulling me out of my thoughts. I snatch it up, and Agnes’s name flashes on the screen.“Agnes,” I answer quickly, “did you find anything?”Her voice is hesitan
SebastianThe plane feels unbearably small.The hum of the engines thrums against my chest, matching the erratic beat of my heart. I wipe my palms against my slacks for the hundredth time, but they won’t stop sweating.My fingers grip the armrests, knuckles white, as if holding on for dear life. I’m suffocating in this seat, and no amount of whisky can calm the storm raging inside me.Elizabeth is pregnant.The words echo in my mind like a curse. The baby might be mine, but it might not be. And if it isn’t mine? No, I can’t go there. It has to be mine.I lean my head back, squeezing my eyes shut, but the darkness behind my eyelids only intensifies the guilt gnawing at my gut. She’s pregnant, and now she’s missing.What kind of man lets this happen? What kind of man drives a woman to disappear like this?“Oh God,” I whisper, the words barely audible.I thought I was so clever, thought I could hurt Christopher in the worst way possible.The man stole everything from me—my wife, my happi
SebastianJames Alexander’s piercing gaze locks onto mine. His eyes are a storm, unreadable but charged with something that makes my gut churn.For a second, I think he might order his men to shoot me right here. But then he raises a hand.“Boys, it’s okay,” he says, his voice deep and commanding.The men hesitate, their hands still lingering near their rifles, but they obey, stepping back just enough to show I’m not getting riddled with bullets.James strides forward, his boots crunching against the gravel, and extends his hand.I take it, the grip firm, his weathered skin rough against mine. His face remains unreadable, but his smouldering eyes pin me in place.“Mr. Sebastian Valdez,” he says, his voice measured, “welcome to Austin.”I try to smile, but my face doesn’t cooperate.My mind is fogged, my heart heavy, and the weight of why I’m here is crushing.James gestures toward the house, leading me into a massive living room with high wooden beams and furniture that screams old mo
ElizabethWeeks have passed since that chaotic night, and now I find myself trying to grasp the little moments of happiness.Sebastian is still in a coma, and the authorities are still trying to find Sarah and Christopher.I’ve come to accept that the last few years of my life were a lie, a twisted tale woven with deceit and betrayal. As I cradle my baby in my arms and watch Edward play in the park, his laughter mingling with the gentle breeze that flows through the trees.But even in this moment of joy, I can still feel the pain in my heart.Celia killed my mother. Celia destroyed me, and now she’s dead. I wish I had the chance to make her pay for what she did. The thought gnaws at me, a constant reminder of the darkness that has shadowed my life.I look down at Edward’s innocent face, and a wave of happiness washes over me.Despite everything going on, my children are safe and blissfully unaware of the chaos that surrounds us. I can’t help but smile as I listen to the giggles, the s
ElizabethI drift in a deep dream state, surrounded by darkness. It feels heavy, like a thick fog pressing down on me.I try to move, reaching out for something—anything—to hold on to, but my limbs feel weighted, as if I’m stuck in quicksand that won’t let me go.Suddenly, images begin to flicker in the darkness.I see my two sons, their laughter ringing like music in the air. They’re playing, their faces lit up with joy, and I can’t help but smile. I dream of happiness, of a life filled with love and laughter. I see Sebastian, his eyes sparkling as he frolics with our children, their giggles echoing around us.But then, everything shifts. I notice blood dripping from Sebastian’s chest, the bright red stark against his skin. My heart drops, and I try to scream, to call out his name, but no sound escapes my lips. I try to run to him, but I’m stuck, frozen on the ground, unable to move.Just when I think I might drown in despair, a bright light pierces through the darkness. It’s blindin
Elizabeth“Mother!” Christopher screams, his voice filled with anguish.“What did you do?” He turns to Celeste, his eyes burning with fury. “What did you fucking do?”“I made you watch, Christopher,” Celeste replies, her voice cold and mocking as she lifts the hand again, letting it drop with a sickening thud. “I thought you liked that—watching as other people pay for your mistakes. You knew your mother ordered Elizabeth’s mother’s death. You knew she killed your father when he found out. You watched me beg you to save me from that crash. You just watched as I screamed in pain, and you were carted off. You left me in that car to die!”Her words cut through the air, and I can’t believe anything that’s happening around me. I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up.As Celeste starts to walk across the room, I glance at Christopher, who is still sobbing, his face twisted in grief and rage.I can’t let this continue. I need to get to Sebastian. I start crawling toward him,
ElizabethI stand frozen in place, the world around me fading as Celia’s screams drown out all noise in the cabin. My heart races as I look down at the blood pooling around Christopher’s leg, the crimson stain growing on the wooden floor. The look of betrayal in his eyes says everything.“You shot me!” Christopher screams, his voice filled with pain and disbelief.“Next time it won’t be your leg!” Celeste yells, her voice sharp and filled with rage. “Tell Elizabeth why this happened to her!”“Sarah, please stop this!” Sebastian begs, his voice desperate, but it only seems to fuel Celeste’s fury.“Shut up, Sebastian! You didn’t have to lose your life because of someone’s jealousy and greed!” Celeste screams, her eyes wild.“You didn’t lose anything!” Sarah—no, Celeste—shouts back. “I lost you! My heart broke, and I almost lost everything!”Sebastian’s voice trembles as he pleads, “And for a minute, I thought you would avenge me, Sebastian. But you met Elizabeth and forgot. I had to wat
Elizabeth“Celeste, what do you want?” I ask, my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me. I can feel the weight of the moment pressing down, the air thick with tension.“I’ve tried to keep you out of this, Elizabeth, but you keep dragging yourself into the middle, don’t you?” Celeste replies, her tone dripping with disdain as she walks toward the cabin entrance.I slowly follow her, determination fueling my steps. I need to find Sebastian. I need to know he’s still alive, and I ignore all signs of danger that scream at me to turn back.“Help me understand,” I plead, my heart racing. “What did I ever do to you? What did Sebastian do to you?” “I remember when you came to the asylum, and you tried to make me hate him. Why?” I ask, desperation creeping into my voice.“Believe it or not, I was trying to keep you out of it,” Celeste says coldly, her eyes narrowing as she glances back at me.“Keep me out of what?” I demand, pulling her arm to stop her.She turns to me, her face a m
ElizabethI drive through the familiar woods, the trees towering above me like ancient guardians.The sunlight filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the road. I remember the first time Sebastian took me home through these woods.I was in so much pain then—my ribs cracked, my heart crushed. But as we drove past the gigantic oaks, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, a calm that seemed to wrap around me like a warm blanket.Today, however, is different. The blood rushes through my body, my hands slick with sweat as I grip the steering wheel. Anxiety coils in my stomach, tightening with every passing moment. I can’t shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong.I pull up to the expansive mansion, my heart racing as I get out of the car. The grandeur of the place looms over me, but I don’t have time to admire it. I rush toward the entrance, my feet pounding against the stone path.I ring the bell and wait impatiently, my heart thudding in my chest. Each second feel
ElizabethI stretch my hand out, reaching for Sebastian, but my fingers brush against the cold sheets where he’s supposed to be sleeping next to me. Embracing our love with me.A wave of disappointment washes over me. He’s not here. I need to find him. I need to be honest.I’ve made my choice, and it’s time to stop lying to him. I need to tell him about our son.I want him to know how much of a survivor our little boy is, fighting against all odds and being born with a smile always on his tiny face. I want to tell Sebastian that he’s not fussy, that he’s a joy to be around. I want him to finally give our baby a name.Quickly, I turn to the other side of the bed, my heart racing.“Where is he?” I wonder aloud, a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. I slowly get out of bed, my feet touching the cool floor, and I pick up his shirt from the floor, slipping it on. It smells like him, and for a moment, it comforts me.“Sebastian?” I call out, my voice echoing softly in the quiet room as
SebastianI run my fingers along her skin, feeling the warmth radiate from her body.The soft light reflects off the cream bedding, making Elizabeth look like a goddess, her sweat glistening like tiny jewels on her olive skin. I can’t help but admire her beauty and her new strength, but a knot of uncertainty tightens in my chest.“Why did you pick me?” I ask, my voice low and heavy with emotion. “Michael is amazing, kind, and he loves you.”She looks away for a moment, her gaze drifting to the ceiling as if searching for the right words.“I can’t help what my heart wants,” she whispers, her voice barely above a breath. “I’ve changed so much. I feel like there’s a darkness in my heart, and Michael doesn’t deserve it.”“This is all my fault, Elizabeth. I did this to you,” I say, sighing deeply, the weight of my guilt pressing down on me.“No, Sebastian. My torment was there long before you came along; what I was going through was only unearthed because of your help,” she replies, her ey
SebastianI stand on the balcony, the cool night air wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.The city lights twinkle below, but nothing feels the same since I’ve been back.I steal a few precious moments with my daughter, but the rest of my time is devoted to helping Elizabeth win her war. It’s a battle that I started, yet here I am, caught in the crossfire of emotions.I take a long sip of the whiskey in my hand, the warmth spreading through me, but it does little to ease the turmoil inside.I fight every impulse that tells me to grab Elizabeth, to kiss her until she remembers how it felt to be together. The few times I’ve stolen a kiss from her have been electric, but then I saw her with Michael. The way her lips caressed his, how gently they were together—it is driving me insane.She has moved on. She doesn’t love me anymore.I swallow hard, the whiskey burning my throat as I think about how I’ve avoided her since.I’ve pulled back every time she reached for me, unable to sto