Three years ago…
Elizabeth
Sebastian and I were back in Wrocław, curled together in our bedroom while the storm raged outside. The rain fell heavy, drumming against the roof, filling the night with a restless rhythm. The air was sharp with cold, yet under the blankets, his warmth wrapped around me.
I wore my blue Minnie Mouse nightgown, a silly comfort I couldn't quite let go of. Sebastian, as always, refused shirts at night. Tonight, he was in his loose blue plaid pajama pants, bare chest against my cheek. Sometimes he slept only in boxers, and on certain nights—after we'd made love—he'd sleep naked. But tonight wasn't one of those nights.
His arm rested around me, but still, unmoving. Usually, he would rake his fingers gently through my hair, twining and caressing as though each strand was something fragile. But now, it felt as if I were holding onto him instead of the other way around, as if I were the one begging for comfort.
The room was hushed, save for our breathing and the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my ear. The dim light of the bedside lamp painted soft amber shadows across the walls. Gray curtains swayed with every cold gust seeping in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Rain pattered against the glass, mingling with the distant roar of the sea.
I knew Sebastian wasn't asleep. His steady but heavy breaths gave him away. My head rose and fell against his chest like a small boat riding uncertain waves. He was present, but far away.
Ever since he had returned that afternoon—from where, he wouldn't say—something about him had shifted. His voice, when he spoke at all, was quiet, dismissive. His answers to my questions had been nothing more than murmurs. No warmth. No spark.
And what hurt most… he hadn't kissed me. Not once. No soft welcome home. No playful brush of lips. No teasing as though my mouth held some hidden sweetness only he could find. That was Sebastian's way—always stealing kisses, always greedy for them. But tonight, he had none to give.
Had I done something wrong?
I couldn't shake the question.
As his silence stretched, I silently made plans for tomorrow. Sunday meant church. I would need to drive to my condo in the morning to pick up my dress. No matter what else happened, church was the one thing I could never miss. Not for the world.
I thought of telling Sebastian about it, hoping he might even offer to drop me off.
"Honey?" My voice came out small, almost pleading.
It took him forever to answer. "Hmm?"
"Tomorrow is Sunday," I whispered carefully.
"I know," he murmured, still not looking at me.
I bit my lip, gathering courage against the weight of his mood. "Um… I'll be going to my condo tomorrow to—"
I froze when he suddenly sat up, tension rippling through him. "Really? Is that it?"
My heart skipped. "What is… what do you mean by that, honey?"
His eyes narrowed, sharp as glass. "So you still see this relationship as a game?"
A game? What on earth was he talking about? "Baby, I don't understand."
It was like my words struck a match inside him. His anger flared. "Jesus, I can't believe you're such a bad actress, Elizabeth. A drama queen!"
His tone stabbed me, and I flinched. What had gotten into him? Did I do something wrong? "Honey—"
He shot me a look so direct I had to swallow hard before speaking again.
"Tomorrow makes it exactly one week since we started dating," he said coldly. "And I clearly remember how it all began—with a bargain."
I felt my chest tighten. "Sebastian, you made that bargain yourself. You said if I refused to play your game, I'd have to stay in your house for a week."
"Wow! Bravo, Elizabeth!" He clapped his hands, laughter cutting through the room like a blade. But it didn't last long. His face hardened. "So what you're saying is… every kiss, every touch, every time we made love, every trip we took—it was all just part of some dirty bargain?"
God, what was wrong with him? Did he hit his head somewhere I didn't know?
"Sebastian, what are you even insinuating? That I treated our relationship like a joke? A pretence?"
"Exactly!" he snapped, his voice rising. "I thought this—us—was real."
"It is real, Seb. So, so real." My voice broke, but I meant every word from the depths of my heart.
He shook his head, eyes burning with distrust. "Today, my instincts serve me right. It was all one-sided."
"No—" My protest trembled in the air.
"You don't really love me, Serena." He spat my name as though it were poison, thick with hatred. "I've been the only one loving you. You? You never had feelings for me."
"Seb, no," I whispered, voice shaking. "I've loved you since the very first day you confessed to me. That moment—it was heart-pouring, it melted me. I appreciated it, honey. I swear on it."
His glare was merciless. "You lying bitch." The words spat like venom. "You're only good at acting. The bargain's up—it's exactly one week. And now you want to run away. You want to trample my true feelings under your little game, huh?"
My chest tightened, exhaustion flooding me. I hadn't prepared for this fight. He blindsided me with his harshness, every word a dagger. "Sebastian… where is all this coming from? I'm not running away. If you'd just listen to me first—"
He cut me off, his voice sharp, his tongue a whip. "What's left to explain, Serena?" The way he dragged my name—cold, bitter—cut deeper than a knife. "What's there to explain? That you still treated us like a bargain? Or that you're running home to meet your new boyfriend waiting at the gate?"
I froze. What!?
This wasn't Sebastian. This wasn't the man who kissed me until I forgot how to breathe, who held me like I was breakable glass. No. This was a stranger wearing his face.
Rage surged in my veins. My voice rose, shaking the room. "Holy Mary! How dare you? How could you even say something like that? Sebastian, are you calling me a cheater? Is that it? You think I've been sneaking off with some secret boyfriend? Fine. Then prove it! Show me!"
He blinked, jaw tightening. I pressed harder. My voice cracked with fury.
"Number one: you'll have nothing to prove, because when you met me, I was a pure virgin. Sacred, untouched—until you came into my life and took my flower. Number two: you are the only man who has ever seen me naked. The only one who has kissed me, touched me. You're the first and only boyfriend I've ever had in my twenty-three years of existence! And you dare… you dare call me unfaithful?"
My throat burned. "If anything, Sebastian, it's you who's the serial fucker. You're a chronic womanizer who beds anything in a skirt!"
His eyes narrowed dangerously, his jaw a steel trap. I'd pressed a deadly button. "Are you… comparing me to a dog? To a man-whore?"
"Ha! Both!" I shot back, reckless. My chest heaved, but I didn't care what storm I'd just unleashed.
His teeth ground together. "That's it. That's the height of it all." He snapped. Then, in a voice that shook the walls, he roared, "Get out of my house!"
My heart stopped. "What!?"
Before I could move, he was yanking open the wardrobe, pulling my bags with violent hands. I rushed to him, trying to stop the madness. "Sebastian, what are you doing?"
"You're not blind!" he thundered, hurling one of my suitcases so hard it slammed against the door with a brutal thud. "I'm throwing your things out. Out of my house. Out of my life."
My knees weakened. "No, Seb… you can't. You can't do this to me. I'm still your girlfriend. I'm still—honey—"
His voice ripped the air. "We're done!"
The force of it made me jolt, tears burning my eyes.
"It's over!" His face was stone, merciless. "Get out. Leave!"
I shook my head in disbelief, tears spilling freely now. "No… no, wait. Baby, please…" My voice broke, trembling. He couldn't mean this. He just couldn't.
"Don't baby me! Get out!" he roared, shoving me so hard I lost my grip on his hand. My body hit the tiled floor, the sharp sting running straight to my butt.
"Ouch!" I yelped, pain shooting through me as I scrambled back to my feet. My heart raced, my throat raw. He flung the door wide, my boxes crashing against the marble like discarded trash.
"Sebastian, please—it's midnight. It's raining heavily. It's dangerous to send me out at this hour!" My voice trembled, pleading.
For a fleeting moment, his hands cupped my face. His eyes bore into mine, and foolishly—desperately—I thought he might kiss me, that this nightmare would end.
Instead, his voice was icy. "I don't care, Elizabeth. Just disappear. Get out of my life and go to hell."
"Sebastian—ah!" I gasped when he released me with a shove, my body hitting the ground again. I staggered to my feet, clinging to his wrist. "Sebastian, please—don't do this."
His face darkened. His voice dropped into a warning growl. "I don't want to do something I'll regret. Leave. Or I swear, you'll hate the day you ever met me." He ripped his wrist free.
"Sebastian—oh!" My words died in shock as he hauled me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing and stormed toward the door.
With a brutal motion, he flung me outside. I landed on the cold cement with a cry. "Ouch!" My body ached from the impact, my dignity shredded.
"Get the fuck out of my house!" His roar thundered through the night, echoing against the walls before the heavy door slammed shut with a violent pang.
And then, only the storm.
Rain cascaded down, cold needles piercing my skin. My hair clung wet to my face, drops sliding into my eyes. My thin nightgown turned transparent in seconds, plastering against my skin, outlining my curves, my nipples straining through the soaked fabric.
I sat where he had thrown me, broken, humiliated, sobbing like a child abandoned in the dark. My boxes were strewn around me, drenched, my belongings ruined under the relentless downpour.
The rain slapped against my thighs, cold and merciless. My body shivered uncontrollably.
"Okay, Sebastian. You win," I whispered through sobs. My teeth chattered. "I'm sorry. Please, let's just talk inside."
Nothing.
"Sebastian!" I cried louder, desperation clawing my throat. "I'm soaking wet—I'll catch a cold! You know I'm asthmatic!"
Only silence answered me. No footsteps. No door creaking open. Nothing but the storm.
The cold gnawed into my bones. My chest tightened, breaths shallow and ragged. I pressed a trembling hand to my heart, fear clawing at me. I'll get sick. I'll collapse out here.
I wept harder, my tears vanishing into the rain. My voice cracked as I wailed into the storm, clinging to one last hope that he would come for me.
And then—suddenly—a shadow fell over me.
A shade. A figure blocking the rain from above.
I turned my head, and there he was—Bruce—holding a large black umbrella over me. The storm pelted against it, shielding me from the worst of the rain.
"Miss Barros, are you okay?" His voice was thick with concern.
I let out a broken laugh through my sobs, choking on the words. "Do I look okay to you, Bruce? He just—he just broke up with me. Sebastian ended our sweet relationship in the blink of an eye. I feel like dying."
"Nah," Bruce snorted, shaking his head. "He's the one who lost something big."
"Lost something big?" I blinked at him, confusion twisting through my tears. "What are you saying?"
Bruce draped a large white towel over my shoulders, pressing it firmly to shield me from the cold. The warmth felt like a lifeline against my shivering skin.
"He usually takes his anger out on women, on things, on people—whenever he loses a major business deal," Bruce explained, his tone blunt but steady.
My brows furrowed. "He lost a deal?"
The pieces started clicking in my head. I had noticed it—the way his whole demeanor had shifted when he came back at noon. Something had been off. Something he hadn't told me.
Bruce's jaw tightened. "Sebastian doesn't lose battles. He refuses to accept defeat. But deals?" He exhaled sharply. "He hates losing those. It crushes his pride. In high school and college, he fought tooth and nail to stay on top. Distinctions, certificates—you name it. Nobody could outrank him. Not even his cousin, Boss Antoni."
I turned toward the shut door, rain still dripping from my lashes. My heart ached. "He could have just talked to me about it. Instead of… this."
Bruce's eyes softened. "My boss still loves you."
I stared at him, hollow and bitter. "You don't get it, Bruce. He broke up with me. It's written all over the wall—can't you read the handwriting?"
He shook his head firmly. "I've served him my whole life, Miss Barros. I know what he's capable of—and what he's not. Right now, he's blinded by anger, paranoia, ego. He's not in his right senses. If you doubt me, then let's make a bet."
"A bet?" I frowned. My voice cracked in disbelief. "Bruce, this is absurd. Making a bet over… this?"
His lips curled in quiet confidence. "My boss will come back to you in two days. Mark my words."
I exhaled heavily, despair pressing on my chest. "That's impossible. He said it's over."
Bruce's gaze locked on mine, unwavering. "Then let me tell you something—but first, let's get you somewhere safe." He pressed the umbrella into my hand and stooped to gather my scattered boxes and bags, his movements calm and deliberate.
I sniffled, pulling the towel tighter around me. "My condo is far from here, Bruce. I can't—"
"I know," he interrupted gently. "That's why I'm taking you to Boss Antoni's place. It's not far. Just a ten-minute drive."
I hugged the towel tighter to my chest, my heart pounding with a new unease. Antoni. The name carried weight.
Still, with rain dripping down my face and Sebastian's door closed tight behind me, I had no choice but to follow Bruce into the storm.