The CEO's Regret: You made me your lie, I become your Loss-Chapter 63: There is hope

She turned on her heel, the expensive fabric she had taken from Amara’s closet, swishing against her legs. She walked toward the door with a slow, steady pace that felt like a slap.

"Amira!"

The name tore from Madam Pedro’s throat, raw and jagged. It wasn’t a command anymore; it was a sob for a girl who had already vanished behind a mask of hate.

Amira didn’t blink. She didn’t even break her stride. The silk of the stolen dress hissed against the floor as she marched toward the door. The heavy thud of her heels echoed in the silent hallway like a ticking clock.

She threw herself into Amara’s car, the engine screaming to life with a roar that shook the windows of the house. Gravel flew like a shrapnel as she tore out of the driveway, her foot flopping heavy on the gas.

She reached the massive iron gates, her heart hammering against her ribs, when a shadow lunged into the road.

Amira slammed on the brakes.

The tires shrieked, the car skidding sideways, smoking and swaying until it stopped just inches, barely a breath, from Madam Creed’s knees. The older woman didn’t move. She stood there, trembling, her face pale and sunken.

Amira leaned out the window, and her face contorted. "Get out of my way, you mad woman!" She screamed, her voice high and thin with panic. "Move!"

"We need to talk," Madam Creed gasped, her hands reaching out to clutch the hot metal of the hood. Her eyes were bloodshot, frantic with a mother’s terror. "I know my son made a mistake with Elara. I know. But you can’t blame him... please. Seb is still unconscious. The doctors don’t know what to do. They don’t know if he’ll wake up."

She moved to the driver’s side window, her fingers scratching at the glass.

"He is my only son," she begged, her voice breaking into a whisper. "I promise, if you come back to him, the Creed family will look past it. We won’t care that you are barren. We won’t say a word. We can find another way a surrogate, anything. You can choose the woman. You can decide everything! Just... please. You are the only one he reacts to. Please save my only son."

Amira’s heart hammered against her ribs, a wild, rhythmic drumming of spite. She looked at the broken woman clinging to the car door, this powerful mother reduced to a beggar. A dark, jagged idea took root in Amira’s mind. Every word Madam Creed had spat out was a mistake; a plea meant for a sister Amira hated.

"Fine," Amira hissed, her voice cold as ice. "Get in the car."

The drive to the hospital was silent, filled only with the heavy, suffocating scent of Madam Creed’s desperation. Amira didn’t care about the dying man in the bed; she only cared about the power she now held over her sister’s life.

When she stepped into the intensive care unit, the air was thick with the smell of antiseptic and the steady, haunting beep... beep... beep... of the heart monitor. Sebastian lay there, pale and hollow, looking more like a ghost than the man who had obsessed over Amara for a decade. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Amira walked to the side of the bed. She didn’t take his hand. She didn’t cry. She leaned down until her lips were inches from his cold ear, her voice a sharp, commanding whisper that cut through the hum of the machines.

"Wake up," she snapped. "Don’t you dare tell me you’ve given up. Not after ten years of this... this love and obsession."

She felt the weight of Madam Creed’s hopeful gaze behind her. Amira leaned closer; her eyes bored into Sebastian’s closed lids.

"Amara can’t live without you," she lied, the words tasting like copper. "So, open your damn eyes. Now."

The silence that followed was agonizing. Then, the monitor began to race. Beep-beep-beep-beep.

Sebastian’s fingers twitched against the white sheets. His chest heaved, a ragged, gasping breath tearing into his lungs as if he were being pulled back from a dark ocean. Slowly, painfully, his eyelids flickered and dragged open.

His blurred vision cleared, landing right on the woman wearing Amara’s dress and Amara’s face.

"Amara..."

The name left Seb’s lips like a prayer, cracked and dry. His eyes, clouded with pain, searched her face. Madam Creed let out a choked cry of joy, her hands flying to her mouth before she scrambled out of the room to find a doctor, leaving the two of them in a silence that felt like a tightening noose.

Amira sat on the edge of the bed. She didn’t flinch. She leaned over him, her expression shifting into a mask of soft, shimmering devotion. She looked at him with eyes that seemed to overflow with a love she didn’t feel.

"I love you," Seb whispered, his voice trembling as a single tear tracked down his temple. "You... you are such a good person. But I realize now... I’ve hurt you. I have no right to ask forgiveness. I’m ready to let you go, Amara. I won’t burden you ever again."

Amira’s heart didn’t soften; it hardened. If he let go, the drama would end. If he let go, Amara was free. She couldn’t allow that.

"Oh, my dear Seb," she whispered, her voice melting into the sweet, melodic tone that belonged to her sister. She reached out, her fingers grazing his cheek with a tenderness that was terrifyingly fake. "How can you say that? You have no idea how worried I was. You almost left me."

She leaned closer, her breath warm against his skin.

"It took your near death to make me realize... I don’t want to be without you. It’s you I want to be with, Seb. I love you so much."

Seb’s breath hitched. The monitor began to chime at a faster, frantic rhythm. "Is that true?" He wheezed, hopeful flare-up in his hollow eyes like a dying ember caught in the wind. "Have you... have you really forgiven me?"

"Yes, well, not entirely, but there is still hope for us," Amira lied, the word smooth as silk. "And to prove it, we should go away. Somewhere far from the world, just for a few days. To strengthen our bonds. To start over."

She looked at him carefully. She didn’t want a reformed Seb. She wanted the man whose obsession would burn Amara’s life to the ground. She needed him fueled by hope so he would never stop hunting her sister.

"Yes... my love," Seb gasped, a ghost of a smile touching his pale lips. "Anywhere in the world. We can go back to the island."

Amira nodded slowly; her smile was sweet and venomous. "The island. Perfect."

Amira leaned down one last time, her fingers lingering on Seb’s cold hand. "I have to go now, my love," she whispered, her voice a perfect imitation of Amara’s softest tone.

"I’m so afraid... the world will judge me if they see us together so soon. I have to find Julian. I have to break his heart so I can give mine to you. We’ll meet later, okay?"

Seb nodded weakly, his eyes shining with fresh, dangerous hope. "Anything. I’ll wait for you."

As Amira slipped out of the room, her face transformed. The warmth vanished, replaced by a sharp, jagged smile. She wasn’t going to Julian. She was going to pack.

Not long after, the door creaked open again. It was Demian. He looked at his friend, pale, broken, but awake, and let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding for weeks.

"You’re back with us, man," Demian said, pulling a chair close. He sounded tired, but relieved. "I thought we’d lost you."

"I thought so too," Seb murmured.

"Look, Seb," Demian leaned forward, his voice grounded and firm. "You’ve been given a second chance. Use it. Forget the obsession. Forget Amara. It’s time to rebuild. You can have a life without her, a quiet one. Your mom is outside, she’s so happy she can barely breathe. Let’s just go home and start over."

Seb looked toward the window, his expression was unreadable. "Maybe you’re right, Demian. Maybe it’s time to let go."

"That’s my brother," Demian said, patting his shoulder.

Demian and Madam Creed eventually left the room, their hearts light for the first time since he returned. They talked about physical therapy and quiet dinners, convinced the nightmare was finally over.

But the moment the hallway went quiet, Seb’s hand reached for his phone on the bedside table. His fingers moved with frantic, trembling energy. He dialed a number he knew by heart.

"It’s me," Seb whispered when the line was picked up. "They’re gone."

On the other end, Amira’s voice was a low, smooth purr. "Good. The private strip is ready. No one can find us on the island. Are you ready to leave this all behind, Seb?"

"I’ve been ready for ten years," he rasped, his eyes dark and burning. "I’m coming to you, Amara."

He began to pull the wires from his chest, the heart monitor flatlining into a long, steady scream that he didn’t even stop to silence.