Trapped with My Billionaire Ex-Husband

Chapter 96

BLAIRE

Where am I? What’s happening?

“Mommy, I’m scared. I turned to my side to see a child gasping for air as he clung to my waist.

“You’re both going to die here today!” I shifted my gaze in front ofand saw a woman holding a gun pointing

at us.

What’s going on here? What am I doing here? Who are these people? Though I don’t recognize the place at all, everything seems familiar, as if I were really in that situation. We were in a boat. And there’s four of us. Is this what happened before my accident? But as I tried to run my eyes around the boat, nothing here resembled what Grant toldabout:

My heart was racing as I feared for my life and the life of this little child clinging to me. Who is he?

I squinted my eyes, trying to remember who they were and how we ended up in this situation. But their faces. were blurred, as if something were blocking my memory. Is it what it is–a memory? Or is it just a fragment of my imagination?

“Please leave them alone. Takeinstead,” said the familiar voice. I turned to where the voice was coming from, and my eyes widened in shock when I finally figured out who it was.

Sebastian. What is he doing here?

“If I can’t have you, po one will!” the woman shouted.

“I kept shifting my gaze in between them as I tried to hide the little boy behind me. I don’t know why, but I had this urge to protect him, even if it costmy life.

My head started hurting as soon as they both started screaming in unison. I clutch my head and shut my eyes, trying to clear my head up. I have no idea what’s happening right now. I don’t know any of them aside from Sebastian.

“Mommy,” said the tiny voice behind me. “Please, don’t leave me,” he pleaded.

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And the next thing I knew, I felt a bullet hit the side of my head. There’s also another one hitting my chest. The face of that little boy is the last thing I remember before everything went blurry.

“No!” I shouted as I was drenched in sweat and panting. I was startled when I suddenly heard a loud knock. coming from the adjacent door.

“Blaire, are you okay?” He shouted from the other side of the door as he continued to knock.

I was contemplating whether I should answer it or not. But it seems like Sebastian was planning to break the

door if I didn’t.

I let out a heavy sigh, trying to steady my breathing before I made my way to the door. Without a word, I opened it, only to find him standing there, his hand poised as if he were ready to break through.

“Are you planning to break it?” I asked, trying to lighten the tension with a greeting.

“I will if I have to. Another minute of silence, and I’ll do it,” he replied, his expression dead serious.

I took a deep breath before responding. “I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? I heard screaming. Nightmares?” His concern was palpable.

It never ceased to amazehow he could readso well. I offered a hesitant smile, confirming his suspicions.

“How are you?” he asked again, his worry etched across his face.

“I’m really fine, Sebastian.”

He fell silent for a moment, but it was clear he had no intention of leaving any tsoon. As much as I hated to admit it, after that nightmare, I didn’t want to be alone. My only dilemma was whether it was right to seek

comfort from Sebastian at that moment.

“Would you like to cinside?” I invited him.

His face lit up like a Christmas tree as soon as I said that. It’s too late forto back out or change my mind, as he quickly entered my room.

“Do you wantto order us a wine?” he asked as he was holding the fine.

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I smiled before I replied. “That would be great.”

As Sebastian dialed the room service, I took a moment to collect my thoughts. Having him here, in my room, felt. simultaneously comforting and unsettling. Despite the lingering unease, I couldn’t deny the relief of having someone familiar by my side after the harrowing experience of the nightmare.

Sebastian settled into the chair opposite mine, his gaze fixed onwith a mixture of concern and curiosity.

“So, care to share what the nightmare was about?” He inquired gently, his tone inviting but not intrusive.

I hesitated, grappling with the memories of the vivid and unsettling dream that still lingered in my mind. “It’s all a bit fuzzy now,” I admitted, my voice betraying the lingering traces of unease.

Sebastian nodded sympathetically, his expression mirroring the empathy in his voice. “Nightmares can be quite unsettling,” he acknowledged, his words laced with understanding borne from his own experiences.

As we waited for the wine to arrive, a comfortable silence settled between us, punctuated only by the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional distant murmur from the hallway.

I couldn’t shake the feeling of gratitude for Sebastian’s presence, even as the questions and uncertainties continued to swirl in my mind. Despite the complexities of our past and the uncertainties of the present, there was a sense of solace in knowing that I wasn’t alone in navigating the labyrinth of my thoughts and emotions.

Sebastian leaned forward, his eyes reflecting a genuine interest in my well–being. “Do you often have nightmares. like this?” he asked, his voice soft but probing.

I paused, considering his question carefully. “Not often,” I confessed, “but lately, they seem to be more frequent. It’s as if my subconscious is trying to tellsomething, but it all comes in a blur.”

He nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. “Perhaps it’s your mind’s way of processing “everything that’s been happening,” he suggested. “With your memory still recovering, it’s only natural for your subconscious to be working overtto fill in the blanks.”

His words struck a chord, resonating with the uncertainty that had plaguedsince waking up in the hospital. with no memory of who I was or how I ended up there.

“It’s frustrating, not knowing,” I admitted, my voice tinged with frustration. “I feel like I’m missing a piece of the puzzle, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to find it.”

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“Do you mind if I asked what these nightmares exactly are?” he asked.

A fleeting moment of hesitation grippedas I found myself caught in the depths of Sebastian’s gaze, his handsfeatures etched with genuine concern. His question hung in the air, promptingto delve into the depths of my own psyche and confront the unsettling truth that lurked within.

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In truth, my nightmares hadn’t plaguedwith such frequency until Sebastian entered my life. It was as if his presence had stirred something dormant within me, awakening memories long buried beneath the surface of my consciousness. And yet, the first dream I had involving Sebastian wasn’t a nightmare at all–it was something altogether different, a tapestry of emotions and sensations that defied simple explanation.

Instead of offering a direct response, I opted to deflect his inquiry, turning the focus of our conversation to a subject that had been weighing on my mind. “What about your wife?” I asked curiously.

A subtle shift in Sebastian’s demeanor signaled his discomfort with the topic at hand, his body language betraying a sense of unease that lingered in the air like palpable tension.

“I’m sorry for prying,” I offered, extending an apology in response to his evident discomfort. “You don’t have to answer that.”

His response was laden with heavy sadness, his words tinged with regret as he offered a vague acknowledgment of his past transgressions. “I made mistakes, and it costmy family,” he confessed, his expression a portrait of melancholy that cast a shadow over the room.

A quiet moment passed between us, disturbed only by the sound of the doorbell ringing in the distance. It snapped us out of our tense conversation.

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As the doorbell rang, breaking the heavy silence, I found myself relieved by the interruption. Sebastian seemed equally grateful for the distraction, his tense demeanor softening slightly.

“I’ll get that,” he offered, moving towards the door with purposeful strides. I watched him go, his figure a reassuring presence amidst the uncertainty that lingered in the air.

Alone in the room, I took a moment to gather my thoughts, the weight of our conversation weighing heavily on my mind. Sebastian’s words had leftwith more questions than answers, each one a knot of confusion that refused to unravel.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed when Sebastian returned, a tray in hand bearing two glasses of wine. He set it down on the table before me, his expression thoughtful as he took a seat opposite.

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“Here you go,” he said, sliding a glass toward me.

I accepted the glass with a grateful nod; the cool liquid was a welcrelief against the turmoil of my emotions. Taking a sip, I allowed the familiar taste to soothe my frayed nerves, the gentle buzz of alcohol offering a temporary reprieve from the chaos of my mind.

Sebastian’s revelation hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over our conversation. His words pierced through the silence.

“My wife was shot, and the person who did that was already atoning for her sin in prison,” he confessed, his voice tinged with a mixture of sorrow and resignation.

I listened in stunned silence, the weight of his words settling overlike a suffocating blanket. It wasn’t often that Sebastian opened up about his past, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of empathy for the pain he must have endured.

“She was shot?” I echoed, the words slipping past my lips before I could stop them, curiosity and concern warring within me.

Sebastian nodded solemnly, his gaze momentarily distant as he took a sip from his glass, seeking solace in the amber liquid.

“Was she shot in a boat?” I blurted out, the question tumbling from my lips without forethought. It was as if spart ofhoped that my nightmare held a connection to his past, a thread of truth woven into the fabric of our intertwined destinies.

His brow furrowed in surprise, a flicker of bewilderment crossing his features. “How did you know?” he asked, his tone laced with a note of intrigue.

Caught off guard by my own question, I shrugged nonchalantly, masking the surge of uncertainty that “threatened to engulf me. “Just a wild guess,” I offered, hoping to downplay the significance of what I’d said.

As I brushed off the idea as just a chance, a tiny doubt crept into my thoughts, Could my dream somehow be linked to hidden memories? Memories that tiedto Sebastian in ways I couldn’t understand?

The thought chilledto the bone, makingquestion what was real and what was just a trick of the mind. With so many possibilities swirling around, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being lost in a maze of secrets and deceit. And amidst it all, one burning question lingered: who was I, and where did I really fit into this complicated puzzle?

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