Chapter Seven
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The two weeks following Elizabeth’s reappearance in Miami were nothing short of torture for Sebastian.
His daily floral siege on her temporary residence continued with two massive arrangements delivered every single morning and afternoon, but it quickly proved to be a weak weapon in the war he was fighting.
Because while he was sending flowers and handwritten pleas, Elizabeth was out on the town, living her best life and letting the entire world watch.
He found himself trapped in an agonizing, high-stakes competition against an entire roster of high-profile, wealthy men who were relentlessly pursuing his wife. Every time he opened a newspaper or opened social media, her glowing face was plastered across his screen.
Her return and shocking physical transformation continued to generate massive media attention.
Paparazzi followed her every step through South Beach and the Design District, capturing high-resolution photos of Beth on glamorous dinner dates with handsome bachelors, looking hot as fuck in revealing designer dresses.
He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about this new wardrobe of hers, Sebastian admitted grudgingly. Every dress was shorter, tighter and left far too much on display for his liking.
The tabloids ran daily commentary on the state of their marriage: Divorce on the Horizon for Tech Tycoon and Heiress?
Hot Heiress Elizabeth Murray Spotted on Romantic Date with New Man!
The public speculation was unbearable, but her complete silence in response to his daily notes was what truly drove Sebastian to the brink of insanity. Every morning, the florist confirmed the delivery, yet his phone stayed silent.
The sheer volume of flowers filling her father’s house had to be getting under her skin. It was meant to provoke a reaction, any reaction. And yet, she gave him nothing.
By the end of the second week, when the realization set in that roses and other flowers weren’t going to fix five years of emotional neglect, Sebastian began making drastic moves. He was determined to prove his sincerity.
He cancelled his upcoming meetings on the sixteenth day and scheduled an emergency private procedure with a top surgeon, and underwent a vasectomy reversal.
Two days later, while still recovering, he instructed his team to send the official surgical records, doctor’s notes, and lab results directly to Star Island in a sealed envelope addressed to Elizabeth.
No response.
Frustrated and desperate, he raised the stakes again.
He instructed his assistant to find prime listings for luxury waterfront estates in Coral Gables and Key Biscayne, picking out sprawling, light-filled homes with vast gardens and swimming pools.
They were the exact kind of homes Beth had begged for during their five years of marriage.
He printed out the full architectural blueprints, pinned a note reading, “Pick one,” and had them couriered straight to her father’s gates alongside that afternoon’s bouquets of long-stemmed red roses.
Still, he heard nothing. Only crushing silence.
While this agonizing blackout was ongoing, Elizabeth was constantly out on dates being pictured with other men. It was killing him.
The worst part? In half the paparazzi shots, she was casually holding a single long-stemmed red rose as she walked into expensive restaurants. If that wasn’t deliberate trolling directed at him, then what the hell was it?
Apart from being tormented by her splashy public outings, Sebastian was consumed by thoughts of that night at the Four Seasons, and was incapable of forgetting it.
The memory of her smooth skin, the hunger in her eyes, and the uncontrolled passion they had shared consumed his every waking thought.
It haunted his dreams every single night, making him more dangerously obsessed with her.
He loved her!
The realization hit him with a start one morning after an obsessive sweep through her media features. The magazines and social media posts weren’t just publicity; they were her direct response to his notes.
And the only line of communication she had left open between them.
There wasn’t a single doubt left in his mind. Sebastian was hopelessly in love with Elizabeth, and he wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
The truth hit him like a physical blow, leaving him wondering how he could have been so blind, so foolishly arrogant, for five long years.
By the third week, her continuous refusal to acknowledge his existence became far too much to bear.
Unable to take the agonizing distance any longer and losing his mind from lack of sleep, Sebastian abandoned all pride, left his office in the middle of the day and drove straight to the island.
He pulled his sports car up to the grand iron gates of the Murray estate, but the security guards on duty immediately stepped forward, raising their hands.
Elizabeth had given strict instructions to the entire staff: under no circumstances was her husband to be admitted onto the grounds.
Sebastian did not argue with the guards. He did not yell or demand entry. Instead, right there on the pristine asphalt driveway outside the security booth, he dropped to his knees and refused to leave until she agreed to see him.
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Inside the mansion, Beth was getting ready for an outing after spending the morning working.
Contrary to popular belief, she actually had a job as a translator. She loved it because it wasn’t overly demanding and allowed her to set her own hours. She was perfectly content letting everyone assume she was just an airhead. After all, in the past, they had all thought of her as daft.
Her afternoons, however, were a different story.
For the past three weeks, Beth had gone on lavish dates, courted by eager bachelors, and she had enjoyed every minute of the spectacle.
It was thrilling, empowering and fun, but she wasn’t looking for love.
It was all a carefully choreographed performance meant for an audience of one. Her husband.
Beneath the glamour and the revenge, every single action she took was aimed at torturing him, the only man who could claim to own her heart.
Deep down, Beth knew the truth. She was more hopelessly in love with Sebastian than ever. Perhaps she had made a terrible mistake by giving in to her primal urge that night at the hotel. Sleeping with him had only bound her to him.
That afternoon, as she carefully applied her eyeliner at the vanity, a member of the household staff approached with a hesitant knock.
“Ms. Elizabeth,” the housekeeper said softly. “Your husband is outside the main gate, requesting an audience with you.”
He must have seen the photos in the morning paper, Beth thought triumphantly.
“Do not let him in,” she instructed, without even looking up from her makeup mirror.
She cancelled her plans entirely and decided to stay in. That way, she avoided running into Sebastian, yet still had a front-row seat to his grovelling.
An hour later, as the sun beat down over Biscayne Bay, Beth was swimming briskly laps in the estate’s infinity pool, letting the cool water soothe her warm skin. The housekeeper walked out onto the tiled deck, holding a fresh white towel.
“Ms. Elizabeth,” the housekeeper murmured hesitantly. “Your guest is still waiting outside the front gate. He insists he will not leave until he sees you. He is currently on his knees on the pavement.”
“I am sure he will eventually get bored and leave.” She answered and went back to swimming.
Mid-afternoon came and went, bringing another tense update from the front gate. Her husband was still outside in the sweltering South Florida heat, grovelling on the hard ground.
“No,” Beth repeated firmly, sitting in the air-conditioned dining room. “Leave him be.”
Around five p.m. in the evening, dark rain clouds rolled in off the Atlantic, covering the sky. A cool, damp wind swept through the palm trees, and soon, a heavy tropical drizzle began to fall.
The updates from the security booth remained entirely unchanged. Sebastian was still outside the gate, kneeling in the dirt, stubbornly waiting to see his wife.
An hour later, the drizzle mutated into a severe, blinding downpour. The rain slammed against the high glass windows of the mansion in torrents, accompanied by distant rumbles of thunder.
Having arrived via the dock, Arthur had missed the drama at the front gate entirely. Once briefed on the standoff, he couldn’t help but shake his head, chastising both Beth and Sebastian for being far too stubborn for their own good.
Seated across from his daughter in the formal living room, Arthur stared at her over his reading glasses, his face filled with a mixture of disappointment and concern.
“Miss Elizabeth,” the housekeeper reported once more, her voice trembling slightly as she stood near the entryway. “Your husband is still outside the gate, kneeling in the middle of the storm. He is soaking wet and could get sick.”
“No,” Beth muttered.
“Beth, he has been out there for over six hours in the elements,” her father spoke up softly as the housekeeper bowed and stepped away.
“Surely you can show the man a little mercy?”
Beth ignored her father’s words, but beneath her cold exterior, her heart was beating erratically. She knew her husband far better than anyone else in the world.
Sebastian was an intensely stubborn, obsessive man and if she did not step outside, he would stay out there, in the freezing rain all night long until his body gave out.
Her concern for him completely overrode her desire for revenge.
Thirty minutes later, unable to endure the mental image of him suffering out in the storm any longer, Beth grabbed an umbrella, threw on a heavy yellow raincoat and rushed out the front door.
She hurried down the long, winding driveway as the heavy rain splashed against her sandals.
When she reached the heavy iron gates, the security guard quickly pressed the release button, letting her step outside onto the dark avenue.
There he was, kneeling in the middle of the wet pavement.