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
SebastianJames extends his hand toward me, and for a moment, I consider not taking it. His knuckles are bruised, a harsh reminder of the punch he landed just moments ago.But I know refusing his hand won’t help my case. I take it, his grip strong and unyielding as he pulls me up.“Straighten yourself up, boy. We’ve got talkin’ to do,” he says, his voice low and heavy with authority.I dust myself off, adjusting my jacket and running a hand over my sore jaw. My voice comes out steadier than I expect.“I’m sorry, Mr. Alexander. Elizabeth got caught in the middle of all this, but I swear it was never my intention to involve her, let alone put her in harm’s way.”James glares at me, his blue eyes cold as ice. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and the silence is almost unbearable.Finally, he gestures toward a chair. “It don’t matter now. Sit your ass down.”I sit, and the three men standing behind him—his sons, no doubt—continue to stare daggers at me. Their presence is suffocating,
SebastianThe tension in my penthouse is suffocating, and Eric's booming voice only makes it worse."I want to see him!" he bellows, his frustration echoing through the expansive space.I stay calm, meeting his furious gaze."I’m telling you, it’s a bad idea," I say evenly.Eric paces the room like a caged lion, his fists clenching and unclenching."He’s my nephew, and so far, the only link I have to my sister," he growls, his voice trembling with barely contained emotion."I understand that," I say softly, trying to diffuse the situation. "But we need to be strategic here. I’ll try to arrange it, but first, we need a plan to deal with Christopher."Eric stops pacing and glares at me, his jaw tight. "How did you really meet Lizzy? I could see you were hiding something back in Austin." his tone sharp and demanding.I hesitate, the question hitting harder than I expect."It’s complicated," I reply, turning away from him.Eric doesn’t let up."I’m a smart guy. Tell me, because I need to
ChristopherThe office feels smaller than usual, though it’s probably just my nerves.Papers clutter my desk, the weight of unread contracts and half-finished reports pressing down on me. My chair creaks as I lean back, staring at the Seattle skyline through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The city buzzes below, a world that feels both distant and suffocating.“Take care of it…” my mother had said, her voice calm but laced with urgency.That’s all she ever says—vague orders veiled as advice. But Celeste’s latest revelation has thrown everything off balance.Sebastian. That smug bastard. I underestimated him. The timing of his involvement in Bell Energies wasn’t a coincidence. And now, with this new information about Sarah, it’s clear he’s playing a long game.I just don’t know the rules yet.The door opens without a knock, and Celeste strides in, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor like a metronome.She’s always so composed, every move calculated, every glance sharp.“He’s her
ChristopherI leave the conference room, my pulse still racing from that tense meeting with Sebastian and his new lawyer.Eric Voit—who the hell is this guy, and how much does he know? My jaw tightens at the thought of Sebastian’s smugness. The bastard is playing at something, and it’s driving me insane not knowing what.Celeste follows closely behind me, her heels clicking.She doesn’t say a word, but I can feel her eyes on me, watching for cracks in my composure. Outside my office, my young assistant, Jessica, stands nervously, wringing her hands like a guilty child.“Sir,” she starts, her voice trembling slightly.“What is it, Jessica?” I ask sharply, still reeling from the meeting. My voice comes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t have the patience to soften it.“Those two men…” she glances toward my office where Sebastian and Eric are still standing, deep in conversation.I follow her gaze and catch Eric glancing in my direction. His expression is unreadable, but Sebastian’s
ChristopherI sit at my desk, head in my hands, every muscle in my body taut as if it’s holding back a dam about to burst.The weight of everything presses down on my chest until I can barely breathe.My father’s legacy, the Bell name, our empire—it’s all crumbling beneath my feet. And I’m the one who has to blame for everything.I slam my fists against the desk, the sharp sound cutting through the suffocating silence of the room.I can’t lose control now. I won’t be the one who lets the Bell name go down in flames.The floor creaks angrily behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to see Celeste pacing there, mad. Her usual confidence is missing, replaced by something vicious, almost vindictive.“Christopher… You can't blame me. I was protecting you.” She starts, her voice tentative.I cut her off, standing and turning to face her.“This isn’t the time to throw words at each other,” I say sharply, though the anger in my voice is more frustration than directed at her. “We don’t have th
ChristopherThe sound of the front door slamming shut reverberates through the house, echoing through the empty, cold hallways.I can’t remember the last time this place felt like home. Ever since I saw Elizabeth lying in a pool of her own blood at the bottom of the bannister, it feels like the walls are closing in on me.My chest feels tight, and my temples throb as I loosen my tie and shrug off my jacket.I barely have time to catch my breath before I hear the sound of tiny feet running toward me.“Daddy!” Edward’s voice pierces through the tension, and I look up to see my son barreling toward me, his face lit with pure excitement.“Hey, buddy,” I say, scooping him up in my arms.The weight of him feels grounding, his innocence a sharp contrast to the chaos inside my head. For a brief moment, I allow myself to smile, but it vanishes as quickly as it came.Then, I smell it—that distinct floral perfume that always precedes my mother.Celia is here. Of course, she is.I put Edward down
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