ElizabethThe steering wheel feels cold against my palms, even though the heater in the car is blasting.My fingers grip it tightly as I drive, the city blurring past me. My chest feels heavy, and my thoughts swirl like a storm. Too many questions haunt me, gnawing at the edges of my sanity.I take a sharp breath and force my focus back onto the road.My hands tremble slightly, but I press on. The car radio hums softly in the background, but I’m not listening. My mind keeps returning to Dr. Maggie Walker—my OBGYN through everything. She’d know. She had to know.Christopher's office offered no answers.The sight of the familiar plaza brings a strange mix of comfort and unease.I park in my usual spot, second from the end, where the shadow of the large oak tree shades the car. As I step out, the crisp air hits my face, and I tug my coat tighter around me. My boots click against the pavement as I make my way to the entrance.The plaza hasn’t changed much. The coffee shop on the corner st
ElizabethBack home, the silence is unbearable. It presses against my chest, heavy and stifling, as I step into the house. Edward’s cries still echo in my mind, piercing and raw, like a wound that won’t heal. I slam the door shut behind me, my breaths coming in shallow gasps.Damn the Bell family. Damn every single one of them.How did it come to this?I toss my bag onto the couch and make my way to the office, slamming the door behind me for good measure. The sound reverberates through the house, but it does nothing to calm the storm inside me. My hands tremble as I grip the edge of the desk. My vision blurs with unshed tears, but I force myself to stay upright.I did everything for them. For Christopher. For Edward. I gave up my dreams, my freedom, and my damn trust fund to help save their sinking company. And what did I get in return? Betrayal. Lies.I hate them. I hate him.And yet… I still can’t make sense of what Sebastian told me. Was he wrong? Was he lying?The uncertainty gna
ElizabethI’m pacing the study, my heels clicking against the wooden floor. The sound echoes in the otherwise silent room, but it does nothing to calm me. My hands are trembling, my heart racing so fast I can feel it pounding in my throat. I keep replaying the moment over and over in my mind, the words that spilled from Christopher’s declaration. “Divorce Agreement. Full custody of Edward awarded to the Father.How dare he? After everything he’s put me through?After all the cheating, the lies, and the bruises he left on my body?And to bring his mistress Celeste into our home, as though she belongs here, as though she has the right to witness this? My nails dig into the palm of my hand as I fight back the tears burning in my eyes.But these aren’t tears of heartbreak. No, that part of me—whatever love I had left for Christopher—died a long time ago.These tears are born of anger, a rage so fierce I feel it will consume me. I hear the heavy thud of footsteps approaching, and my b
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
My eyes are glued to Elizabeth. She doesn’t look at all like the woman I once knew. Maybe it’s the blonde hair, I think. No, that’s not it. It’s something deeper, something that twists my insides and leaves me restless. Her eyes. There’s a coldness there now, a guarded distance that wasn’t there before. The woman I loved, the woman who once looked at me like I was her whole world, now barely acknowledges my presence.My mind is a whirlwind of questions, each one more pressing than the last. What happened to our baby? Did she lose it? Was it taken from her? How did she escape Christopher’s clutches? How did she survive? And why, after everything, is she shutting me out?I need answers. I need to talk to her, to hold her, to tell her that I’m sorry for everything. But she’s not even letting me get close. Every time I take a step toward her, she steps back. Every time I open my mouth to speak, she cuts me off. It’s like there’s an invisible wall between us, and no matter how hard I try,
I feel the ground beneath me slipping away, the little control I thought I had crumbling into dust. Why me? Why is it always me? What did I do to deserve this? My own husband poisoned me. Someone tried to kill me. Twice. Twice. The weight of it is suffocating.The room is a blur. Voices echo around me, each one louder than the last, crashing into my thoughts, drowning me. Sebastian. Michael. James. Eric. They’re all talking, arguing, debating what to do next. My head pounds, my chest tightens, and I can't breathe. The noise is unbearable.“Can everyone please shut the hell up!” I scream.The room falls silent. I can feel their eyes on me, but I don’t care. My hands are shaking, my breaths short and rapid. I force myself to meet Sebastian’s gaze.“Are you sure Christopher did this to me?” I ask, my voice sharp and demanding. I need to know. I need answers. I deserve answers.Sebastian nods, but there's hesitation in his eyes.“It could be him,” he says, his voice low but steady. “Or Ce
SebastianA sharp, burning pain cuts through my chest. "Who are you?" Elizabeth’s voice, cold and unfamiliar, hits me harder than any blow. She doesn’t know me. She doesn’t remember us. Her eyes, those eyes that once softened for me, are hard and distant. My throat tightens as she turns away, leaving me stranded in a room full of silent stares.I whip toward Michael, my voice low and biting. “What the hell happened to her?”Michael meets my glare, his expression calm, almost calculated. “She gets snippets,” he says, his tone firm. “She knows she has a son, but can’t place him.”I curse under my breath. “Has she seen a doctor?”“No,” Michael replies, his voice flat.“What?” My voice spikes, sharp and demanding. “Why the hell not?”Michael’s jaw tightens. “Because until yesterday, we didn’t know who we could trust—or who’s after her.”Before I can snap back, James Alexander strides into the room, his heavy presence commanding attention. Elizabeth follows her expression hard with determi
ElizabethI hear the voices downstairs—low, familiar, yet strange. My hands tremble as I fumble with the buttons of my blouse.“You’ll be fine,” Michael says softly.I know he’s trying to soothe me, but he can’t understand. He can’t feel this hollow ache inside me, the confusion that coils tight in my chest. How could he?“You should go downstairs,” I whisper, my voice barely holding steady.“No.” His answer is firm. “I stay by your side. Remember?”His certainty is a balm, and I manage a small smile. “How do I look?” I ask my voice light but uncertain.“Beautiful,” he says, without hesitation. “Like always.”I smile, but the fear beneath it gnaws at me. I drag a stray blonde lock behind my ear. “Who am I?” I murmur, more to myself than him. The question lingers, heavy and unanswered.My feet carry me forward—one step, then another. The hallway feels endless, shadows pooling in corners. The polished wood beneath me creaks softly as I near the banister. But then—A sudden chill, cold a
SebastianNew York City is loud, alive, and suffocating. The streets hum with a constant, unrelenting energy, but I feel nothing. I move through it like a ghost, invisible to the world around me.The last few months have been nothing but an escape—one city after another, one meaningless distraction after the next. But no matter where I go, no matter how many miles I put between myself and the past, she is still there. Elizabeth. The love I lost. The love I destroyed.I’ve tried to drown the memories in whiskey, in foreign shores, in work. Nothing helps. The weight of my guilt is a chain around my neck, unbreakable.Now, back in my penthouse, I force myself to pack. Another trip, another destination, another pointless attempt to forget. I toss a few shirts into my suitcase, roll up some ties. My hand hesitates over a navy blue sweater. Elizabeth used to love wearing my sweaters, always stealing them, always teasing me about how they smelled like home. I grit my teeth and shove it into
ElizabethI am still in shock. I have a brother—a living, breathing connection to my past. But I don't feel it. I don't know him. I watch as Eric presses the elevator button, his face unreadable. My fingers subconsciously reach for Michael’s hand. I need the comfort, the grounding.We step inside, and an odd sensation washes over me. I feel drawn to something here. It tugs at me like an invisible thread pulling from deep within my soul. And then, as the elevator doors slide open, I feel it. I see it.Familiar. Yet different.I let go of Michael’s hand, stepping forward as if in a trance. Floor-to-ceiling windows bathe the room in sunlight. My heart pounds as I turn, my eyes darting across the space. It’s there—just at the edge of my mind. A memory so close, yet so far.“Elizabeth?” Michael calls out.I barely hear him. My breath catches. My hands tremble. “I’ve been here before.”Michael’s face twists in confusion. “How? When?”“I—I don’t remember.”Eric watches me, his gaze sharp, st
ElizabethI fiddle with my phone, my fingers tracing the edges of the screen, my hands slightly trembling. The weight of what I am about to do settles deep inside me like a rock. My stomach twists, and my breath comes uneven. I can do this, I tell myself. But the truth is—I don’t know if I can.“You can do this,” Michael says gently, his voice steady, grounding.But I don’t feel calm. I don’t feel steady. I feel like I am about to shatter.I exhale, staring at the phone like it’s a bomb about to explode. “I’m supposed to call people I don’t even remember, Michael. Convince them that I’ve risen from the grave. How?” I shake my head. “They’ll think I’m crazy.”Michael steps closer, his gaze unwavering. “Then let me do it. Let me call them first, see how they react.”It’s a good idea. A smart idea. I exhale in relief. “Okay.”Michael picks up his phone and dials. The ringing stretches endlessly, each tone dragging on, stretching my nerves thin. My heart pounds in my chest. What if th
ElizabethI step back into the hotel room, my legs trembling as I move. My entire body feels weak, like my bones can barely hold me up. Michael is already inside, his face full of concern as he hands me a glass of whiskey."Drink," he urges softly.I take the glass, my fingers barely able to grip it. I bring it to my lips, but I don’t drink. I just stare at the amber liquid, watching the way it swirls in the glass as if the answers to my missing memories are hidden somewhere inside."This is too much," I whisper. "Michael... how could I forget? How could I forget my own child?"Michael sighs, stepping closer, his hands reaching for me but stopping just short of touching me."Elizabeth, listen to me—""How?" I choke out, my breath coming in ragged gasps."How does a mother forget she had a child? What kind of mother does that make me?"Tears rush down my face, hot and relentless. My chest tightens with the weight of grief I can’t even fully comprehend. I picture him—the faceless myster
ChristopherI step into the house, the warmth from the fireplace barely touching the cold inside me. Agnes and Edward sit near the fire, the soft crackling filling the silence. Celeste walks in behind me, her heels clicking against the polished floors. Things have been good between us lately, better than they’ve been in a long time. Ever since she helped me take back my company, there’s been a strange peace between us. The best news came when Dr. Maggie confirmed Elizabeth was dead. The only downside was that her bastard child died too—the one I had hoped to use as leverage against Sebastian. But no matter. Sebastian ran, tail between his legs, leaving me on top of the world.“Daddy!”Edward’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. He comes running, his little legs carrying him straight to me, his face bright with happiness. I catch him, lifting him into my arms.“How are you, kiddo?” I ask, studying his small face.His eyes gleam. “Is Mummy coming back?”My jaw tightens. I turn my head sli