The Mistress: Her revenge [18+]

Ch. 40

I barely registered Dani's body on the floor, her chest rising and falling in shallow, erratic breaths. Her eyes were dazed, glossed over, like she had disconnected from reality entirely. The room spun for a moment, and I let my head drop against Sebastian's chest, exhaustion weighing me down. His arms were the only thing holding me up now.

Sebastian's voice was soft, almost a whisper in my ear. "Esme... what the hell just happened?"

I swallowed, feeling the bitterness of it settle in my throat. "She's the reason. She's the reason for all of it." I said. I wasn't sure if I was talking to him or myself anymore. "She's the murderer."

Sebastian held me tighter, his face unreadable, but I could feel his pulse racing against my cheek. Behind him, the officers were helping Dani to her feet, but the crazed look in her eyes didn't falter. She blinked at me, slow and eerie, like she was seeing a ghost.

Pete stood back, his gaze darting between us, and for a fleeting second, I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes—he knew. He had always known what Dani was capable of. He had warned me the first time I told him about my plan.

The station was quiet now, but in my head, Dani's scream echoed, bouncing off every wall.

The police officers exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable before one of them spoke in a low voice. "Take her home, Mr. Ainsworth. We'll come by later to get a full statement."

Sebastian's grip on me tightened slightly as if he needed to reassure himself that I was still standing. Without a word, he nodded, turning me gently and guiding me toward the exit. The station's air felt stifling, laced with the tension left behind after the chaos. Pete lingered behind, probably to hear Dani's statement.

Once outside, the cool night air hit me, but it did little to soothe the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside. My limbs felt heavy, like every step I took was being weighed down. Dani's crazed eyes still burned into my memory, her screams echoing in my ears.

Sebastian opened the passenger door of his car, his movements careful, almost mechanical. I sank into the seat without a word, my body too exhausted to resist, too numb to do anything but comply. As we drove away from the police station, the silence between us stretched, almost suffocating. I stared out the window, watching the lights blur past, my mind racing with fragments of memories, guilt gnawing at my insides.

Before I knew it, we were pulling up in front of a villa. The sleek architecture was unfamiliar, but I didn't care. Sebastian parked, got out, and came around to my side, opening the door with the same quiet determination. He guided me inside, his hand firm on the small of my back as he led me through the grand hallway and into a bedroom.

The room was pristine, its white walls and minimalistic decor an opposite to the mess inside my head. I sank onto the bed, the soft mattress barely registering under me as I stared blankly ahead. Without a word, Sebastian left the room. When he returned, he handed me a glass of cold water. The condensation clung to the glass as I took a sip, the chill a brief relief from the heat that burned in my chest.

I lay back down, staring at the white ceiling. The stillness in the room was deafening. My mind, however, refused to be quiet. Kyle's voice, his laughter as we  had dinner together, when we rode his bike together, his smile when he handed me flowers—everything rushed back in vivid, painful detail. A knot tightened in my throat, and before I could stop myself, tears slid down my cheeks.

The dam broke.

I sobbed, my body shaking with the force of it. Every emotion I had buried for so long came spilling out uncontrollably. Sebastian didn't say a word. He simply got into bed beside me, wrapping his arms around me, holding me close as I cried. His presence was solid, unmoving, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn't have to hold everything together. I let go. I cried until my throat burned, until my tears soaked into his shirt, until my grief and guilt had drained the last of my energy.