LOVE HIS ENEMY: My Husband's Downfall のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

ElizabethI stand in front of the mirror, carefully dragging the eyeliner pencil along my lash line.I let out a soft giggle.Why am I so excited? I quietly ask myself.My hand trembles slightly, but I steady it.It’s been so long since I’ve done this—applied my makeup with this much care. Since I applied my make excited to go somewhere, not to cover up my bruises. The soft golden light from the vanity bathes my reflection, making my pale skin glow. I press my lips together to smooth out the crimson lipstick, tilting my head to examine my work.I look... different. It’s strange, almost foreign, but tonight I feel the need to see myself this way. I don’t know if it’s for Sebastian or for me.The faint scent of my perfume lingers in the air.It reminds me of who I used to be before Christopher—before his words, his fists, and his suffocating control stripped me down to something small, something invisible.The house is so quiet. Too quiet. My chest tightens as my thoughts shift to Edwar

ElizabethI can feel the weight of the decision I have just made.I look into Sebastine's desire, written all over.The warmth of his body is drawing me in. I can feel Sebastian's hand on my back, unzipping my dress. This time I am a willing participant, and I want him.Sebastine's hands explore me, touching me like I am something precious, something breakable. I let out a soft moan, grabbing his hair and pushing his head to my neck.His lips devour my skin, and without warning, I feel his hands on my thighs. Sebastian sets me down on the carpeted grass gently. I reach for him, planting my lips on his, ready for any consequences that follow.“Are you sure you want this?” Sebastian asks breathily...“I want you, Sebastine.”He smiles, quickly taking off his coat.I reach for him and place my hands around his neck. I pull him closer and let my hand explore him. Rubbing his hairy chest, I can feel him untie the straps to my dress. His mouth finding its way to my neck. He raises his hands

ElizabethI feel lighter today. Giddy, even.As I walk around the house, there’s a spring in my step I haven’t felt in years. I can’t explain it fully, but it feels like hope—new, fragile hope, bubbling up inside me and giving me strength.For the first time in forever, I’ve made up my mind. I’m leaving Christopher. There will be no more manipulations, no more playing dirty games. I simply need to be smarter.My fingers tremble as I sit in front of the vanity, brushing a layer of blush across my cheekbones. Last night I was reborn.My reflection looks back at me, and for once, I recognise the woman staring back. I’m not just Christopher Bell’s wife anymore. I’m Elizabeth—a woman who deserves more, who *will* have more. I swipe mascara onto my lashes, the dark pigment making my brown eyes look sharper, more alive. I smile, and it feels real. I’m ready.Today, I have so many plans. So many things to do. Chief among them is seeing my son. Edward. My heart aches at the thought of him, his

SebastianThe scent of Elizabeth still clings to me. I can’t get her out of my head.It’s been two days since we were together under the stars, two days since I touched her soft skin, kissed her, and held her like she was the only thing that mattered.Her smell, her taste, the feel of her—it’s driving me insane. And yet, nothing. No word from her. Is she avoiding me?Christopher is back from the wild goose chase I sent him on.I saw him at the meeting earlier today, storming around, snapping at everyone.He’s furious, and it’s because of me. My friend played his part perfectly—promising Christopher an investment only to back out at the last second.Watching Christopher’s face twist in frustration had been sweet, almost too easy. My plan is working. Piece by piece, I’m dismantling his perfect little empire. But now, with Elizabeth, it feels different. She’s under my skin, making me question everything.She hasn’t been to the office since that night. Is she regretting what happened? Or

SebastianI sit across from her as she sleeps, the dim light of the room casting soft shadows over her face. She looks so delicate, so fragile. Her chest rises and falls unevenly, as if even breathing is a struggle.I can see the bruises on her neck, faint but unmistakable, like fingerprints left behind by someone who had no right to touch her.It’s strange seeing her like this. Vulnerable. Elizabeth is always so guarded, her sharp tongue and stubbornness her armor. But now, as she lies here, battered and bruised, I can see the cracks in her walls. I hate it. I hate how someone could do this to her.I run a hand through my hair and lean back in my chair, never taking my eyes off her.A part of me wants to reach out, to hold her hand, to promise her that everything will be okay. But I can’t. Not yet. She wouldn’t believe me anyway.The sound of my father’s footsteps pulls me from my thoughts. I glance up as he enters the room, carrying two glasses of whiskey. He hands me one without a