Divorced CEO's Forgotten Wife Strikes Back (Riley and Bryce) novel Chapter 122

**TITLE: Dreams Refuse Gravity by Leo Arden Knox**
**Chapter 122: Pity**

The sound that erupted from within the room was raw and primal, reminiscent of a wounded animal pushed to the brink, struggling desperately against the very restraints that bound it.

Riley’s heart raced wildly in her chest, pounding like a drum echoing through a cavern. Sebastian had made it abundantly clear: this room was off-limits. But in this moment, those warnings faded into insignificance.

With determination coursing through her veins, she gripped the doorknob, her knuckles whitening as she braced herself for the possibility of having to force her way inside.

To her surprise, the knob turned smoothly in her hand, the door swinging open effortlessly, as if inviting her into the darkness beyond.

As she stepped over the threshold, Riley was immediately struck dumb by the sight before her. The room was dimly lit, and all around her, whips of every conceivable kind hung from the walls like sinister trophies.

She paused, her breath hitching in her throat as memories flooded her mind—the jagged scars she had glimpsed on Sebastian’s back, the ominous assortment of whips lining the walls, and the chilling words Wren had uttered earlier.

Abuse… and the deep-seated hatred Sebastian harbored for his father.

10:58

**Chapter 122: Pity**

Sebastian had actually endured abuse at the hands of his father?

A sudden heaviness settled in Riley’s chest, an invisible weight that pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe.

In the depths of her heart, she felt an overwhelming wave of sympathy for him—how had he managed to survive the torment all these years?

“Sebastian? Where are you?” she called out, her voice trembling in the oppressive silence that enveloped her.

The stillness was deafening, amplifying the sound of her own breathing, which felt too loud in this desolate space.

With trepidation, she ventured further into the shadows, her foot slipping on something slick and wet. She looked down, her eyes widening in horror—it was blood.

The dark liquid pooled on the floor, spreading like a dark omen. Her heart raced as she lifted her gaze, her eyes darting to a shadowy corner where Sebastian lay crumpled against the wall, motionless, like a discarded puppet abandoned by its master.

His sleeves were drenched in blood, the fabric clinging to his skin as if it were an extension of his very being. And in his right hand—those elegant fingers that had once wielded a gun with such grace—now gripped a knife tightly, its blade buried deep within the flesh of his left arm.

The knife twisted slowly, as if he were attempting to dig into his own flesh and bones, a grotesque act of self-destruction.

“Sebastian!” Riley shouted, her voice filled with urgency as she rushed to his side, grasping his hands in a desperate bid to halt his self-harm. “What on earth is happening to you?”

No one loved him.

“Sebastian! Sebastian! Can you hear me?”

A familiar voice, tinged with worry, echoed in his ear, breaking through the suffocating silence.

Whose voice was this? It felt so familiar, a glimmer of comfort amidst the chaos.

“Sebastian, listen to me. As long as I’m here, no one will hurt you. So please, come back to your senses!” The voice was strong and assertive, cutting through the darkness that clouded his vision. Gradually, the haze began to lift.

He blinked, and there they were—those familiar almond-shaped eyes, framed by a face that radiated gentle warmth and quiet strength. It was a sight that was both mesmerizing and deeply comforting.

Clink.

Sebastian’s grip slackened, and the knife clattered to the floor, the sound shattering the silence like glass.

“Riley…?” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper, broken and fragile.