Three years ago…
Elizabeth
The quickest way to get to the venue was by Sebastian's chopper. It lifted us straight from the hotel rooftop to the venue's rooftop, slicing through the night sky.
I'll admit—we left late. My period had decided to crash the evening, forcing me into a last-minute wardrobe change.
It felt like forever before Sebastian managed to peel me out of the long white gown and slip me into the red cut-out, floor-length dress. The fabric clung to my curves, a daring slit running from my upper thigh to the ground, baring the length of my pale, creamy leg. The back was scandalously open, a plunge that dipped all the way to my waist, leaving my skin bare to the wind.
Cool night air whispered along my spine, across my ribs, and teased the top of my chest.
From the second I changed, Sebastian's gaze locked on me like a predator on prey. His eyes followed every curve, every sway. He even murmured that if I weren't menstruating, he'd have taken me right there before we left.
Sometimes, I wonder if there's some secret spice in my skin that keeps him coming back for more—like I'm a craving he can't satisfy. Around me, he always seems a heartbeat away from losing control.
He crouched at my feet, sliding the straps of my four-inch diamond heels into place. Each step I took afterward made them sparkle against the night sky. I was already counting the minutes until I could kick them off in the hotel room.
When the helicopter touched down, Sebastian stepped out first, then turned to lift me from my seat.
He was striking in an all-black tuxedo, dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. Two buttons at his chest were undone, revealing the ink spread across his broad chest and neck.
Sebastian has always been a ghost to the media—slipping away from paparazzi lenses, dodging public curiosity. Even now, no photograph of him exists online. Not on social media. Not even in Wikipedia. He likes his private life locked away, untouchable.
And honestly… I've started to love that about him.
I gathered the hem of my gown, trying to keep up with Sebastian's long, determined strides, but his pace was relentless. It was like he was racing toward something only he could see. If I tried to match him, I'd probably trip and make a fool of myself.
Ugh. Give me my simple sandals over these heels any day.
Before I could complain again, I suddenly felt the ground vanish beneath me. In one swift move, Sebastian had slung me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing.
"Are you insane?!" I yelped, pounding my fist lightly against his back.
"Shut up," he said flatly—punctuating it with a sharp smack on my backside.
I gasped, glaring at the back of his head, but he didn't so much as flinch.
At the entrance to the private elevator, a man in an all-black suit and dark shades was waiting. Without a word, he handed Sebastian two masks and gestured for us to follow.
Once inside, Sebastian set me back on my feet. He carefully secured a red, ladybug-shaped mask over my face, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. Then he slid on his own—half of his face hidden behind a golden dragon's mask that gleamed under the soft elevator light.
When the doors opened, his hand found mine instantly, warm and firm, while the other disappeared into his pocket. I glanced around for Bruce and the other men who'd come with us earlier, but they were nowhere in sight. Odd—they hadn't even gotten in the elevator with us.
Sebastian stayed silent, his expression unreadable. Maybe it was just part of the act for this so-called party.
At the next doorway, a massive bouncer blocked our path. He gave us a brief once-over before stepping aside without a word.
Inside, the "party" turned out to be… not what I expected. The auditorium was enormous, but instead of people laughing and mingling, the room was lined with rows of guests—men in black tuxedos, women in gowns—every face hidden behind a mask. The lights were low, the air heavy with an almost ceremonial stillness.
I tightened my grip on Sebastian's arm, threading my fingers through his as my eyes scanned the room.
This didn't feel like a party at all. No dancing. No chatter. Just silent rows of masked faces staring at the stage, where a single spotlight glowed.
Leaning toward him, I whispered, "I thought you said this was going to be a party."
"It is," he murmured, eyes fixed ahead.
"In parties, people dance, drink, talk, maybe even laugh. This looks more like… I don't know… an audition or a creepy theater performance."
His head tilted down slightly, a faint frown pulling at his brows. "Shh. You're making noise."
I huffed, annoyed. "Screw you, Sebastian."
"Language, young lady," he replied without looking at me, his attention still locked on the stage.
"Ugh!" I folded my arms, sinking into my seat like a sulking child.
After a beat, Sebastian glanced at me. "There was dancing and everything earlier. We just got here too late to see it."
I didn't even want to hear his excuses. "Whatever." I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt.
He snorted, sliding an arm around my shoulders. "You always manage to look cute when you're angry."
I wriggled against his grip, but he only tightened his hold. "I'll kill you," I warned.
"You already did, baby," he murmured with a soft chuckle. "But I can't die twice."
"Pervert," I muttered.
"Should I kiss you, my ladybug?" His tone was pure velvet.
"Try it and I'll cut off your lips," I said through clenched teeth.
"Tsk." He gave me a mock wounded look. "Ouch. PMS."
My brows pinched. "What's that?"
"Pre-menstrual syndrome," he said casually.
I frowned. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
He didn't take his eyes off the stage. "Mood swings. It happens to women during their period."
…Okay, he might be right. Maybe I was in one of those moods right now. Still—
"How do you know that?"
He arched a brow. "Don't I have a sister?"
Oh. Right. That's where he picked it up.
"She's a nightmare when she's menstruating or ovulating. Temper like a ticking bomb. She used to be your boss—didn't you notice?"
Well… not exactly. I mean, she was always irritable, periods or no periods. Constantly cursing, nagging—like it was her job. The office nicknamed her the spoiled heiress of a multi-billionaire magnate.
Before I could reply, Bruce appeared, moving with a quiet urgency. He leaned toward Sebastian, speaking low.
"Boss, Rico's men are surrounding the building. I don't think they came in peace."
Sebastian's brows lifted. "Really?"
Bruce nodded, the tint of his glasses nearly hiding his eyes. "I've already stationed our men at every corner. We've got this place covered."
"There's no need," Sebastian said, voice calm but edged with something darker. His gaze never left the stage. "I'll handle it."
"What?" Bruce's brows knitted. "Boss, there are fifty of them. I think they know you're here. And they're all armed."
"Tell our men to retreat. I can handle it myself."
"But, boss—"
"Bruce." Sebastian's voice cut in, low but commanding, his tone steady for the sake of the setting. "I said I can handle it myself. Yes, I'll take care of it. You heard me?"
Bruce exhaled heavily. "Yes, sir."
When Bruce walked away, I turned toward Sebastian. He still wasn't looking at me. "What was that about?"
"It's nothing."
Nothing? "But I just heard—"
"You heard nothing, okay?" His voice dipped into something that sounded more like a warning than a whisper. "So shut up and enjoy the damn show."
I rolled my eyes, slumping in my seat.
"And don't roll your eyes at me when I'm talking," he added, clearly catching it.
"So? Whatever. Who cares."
"It's disrespectful, and I don't like it." His tone was clipped—bossy, strict, possessive as ever.
Ugh. Typical Sebastian.
The emcee's voice suddenly drew our attention. On stage, he placed a fine art piece—Leonardo da Vinci's Salvator Mundi. Moments later, the bidding shot up to five hundred million U.S. dollars.
Before the bidding began, the emcee cracked a ridiculous joke about the painting. The whole room erupted in laughter—except Sebastian. I sometimes wonder if anything aside from me could make him smile.
I, however, laughed so hard that my eyes watered. The joke was terrible, but I couldn't help it. When I glanced back, Sebastian was staring—not annoyed at the joke, but at the fact that it came from another man and I laughed.
Jealous. Definitely jealous.
"It's not even funny," he muttered. "Why are you laughing?"
"Sebastian, it's just a joke—"
"Oh, just shut up," he cut in, pointing to his chest. "I'm your boyfriend. You're supposed to laugh at my jokes. Not at some random idiot's."
I blinked at him. "Sebastian, you're—"
"When are you ever going to call me sweet names?" His brows rose, the jealousy still there. "I call you baby, honey, sugar, sweetheart, love, dear, darling, cupcake—everywhere, not just in bed. But you?" He gave a mock wounded look. "You only call me sweet names when we're in bed. Once the sex is over, I'm back to being Sebastian."
I laughed into my hand. There was just something hilariously adorable about the way he could nag and complain over the tiniest things.
Leaning in, I kissed him—completely ignoring where we were. "Alright, honey. Does this count now?"
He bit his lip, trying to hide a smile as I pulled away. "You're a really bad girl, you know that? God, I can't wait for that red river to stop flowing before the end of this week."
My eyes went wide. "Seb—honey, am I food to you?"
He gave a shameless shrug. "Obviously not. I'm just saying I miss my usual dessert… and meditation."
I bit my lip, liking how he could make something so sinful sound so casual. "Alright then. I'll order dessert and make your insomnia tea when we get to the hotel."
His eyes widened in mock horror.
I chuckled. "What? Not the type you wanted?"
"No, baby," he said with a groan. "I'm not talking about that dessert or medication."
I crossed my arms, pretending to be serious. "So… what exactly are you saying?"
He sighed like a man defeated. "Forget it."
Before I could tease him further, the emcee's voice drew our attention again. He held up a small glass display case, something glittering under the spotlight.
"…Inside this box is one of the most highly valued jewelry sets in the world. Heritage In Bloom—crafted with 383.4 carats of white diamonds, jade, and emeralds, carved from a flawless 507.55-carat diamond. Starting bid tonight is two hundred million U.S. dollars."
"Three hundred million!" someone shouted.
I blinked. Were these people insane? A few minutes ago, someone spent over four hundred fifty million on a piece of art, and now we're doing this over a necklace?
"Four-fifty!" another voice called.
My head turned, following each bidder like I was watching a tennis match.
"Five hundred!"
"Six-fifty!"
"Seven hundred!" a woman's voice rang out.
"Eight hundred!" came from somewhere in the back.
Then silence.
Finally, the emcee nodded. "Eight hundred million going once… going twice—"
"One billion U.S. dollars."
"What?!" My gasp tore through the room as I whipped my head to the side—
"Huh!?"
"What the—?"
The collective gasp was deafening. It was as if every jaw in the room had been unhinged at once. The air froze; you could hear a pin drop. Heads swiveled toward our row—our seats.
I turned to him, abandoning sweet names for once. "Sebastian, are you okay? Are you out of your mind? Did you hit your head somewhere?"
Jesus Christ.
What had gotten into him lately? Was there a certain level of wealth that made people go completely insane? Because I was starting to think he'd crossed it.
He didn't answer—didn't even look at me. His gaze was locked on the stage, sharp, unreadable.
"One billion U.S. dollars, going…" the emcee's voice boomed. "Anyone wants to compete? Going once… going twice… going three—"
I gripped his hand like a lifeline. "Honey, whatever you're planning—whatever you're thinking—I beg you, in the name of God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, please retreat. Or so help me, I will stand up right here and end this madness—"
"Let's make welcome our best bidder tonight!" the emcee cut in, his voice ecstatic. "The gentleman with the dragon's mask, please step forward to the stage!"
My heart plummeted. No. No, no, no.
Sebastian rose to his feet, then extended his hand to me. "Come on, baby. Let's go."
"What?!" I hissed under my breath. "Go where? Sebastian, have you lost your mind? Sit down this instant, you mor—"
"Shh." He took my purse, his grip firm on my arm as he drew me up with him.
I stumbled to my feet, helpless. There was absolutely nothing—nothing—I could do to stop him.
The damn spotlight trailed after us as we walked to the stage like a king and queen making their grand entrance.
Sebastian helped me up the steps, his hand firm around mine. I took each one slowly, careful not to misstep in my four-inch diamond heels.
Once we were on the stage, it felt like we were nominees about to receive a Grammy.
"Congratulations, sir." The emcee shook Sebastian's hand, then mine, before passing me a glass box to hold.
Thank God there weren't cameras or paparazzi lurking around. If there had been, they would've snapped a thousand photos in seconds.
Sebastian wasted no time with the transaction. Pulling out his phone, he made the mobile transfer, and within seconds the notification pinged on their device.
"Why did you buy it?" I asked the moment we were alone. "You didn't even listen when I told you to stop."
We were making our way to the back door that led to the private elevator.
"Sebastian, I'm talking to you." I stomped my foot when he stayed silent.
Still nothing.
In the narrow passageway, he suddenly reached up, removed both our masks, and tossed them aside.
"What are you doing?" I asked as he crouched down, fastening the anklet around my left ankle.
The diamond set was complete—necklace, bracelet, anklet, ring, and earrings—all encrusted with flawless stones.
Sebastian moved behind me, clasping the necklace at my throat. Then he slid the bracelet onto my wrist and replaced my double-circle geometric hoops with the diamond earrings.
I didn't say a word to stop him. I liked the way he dressed me in diamonds. The feather-light brush of his fingers against my skin as he secured each piece sent little sparks dancing through me.
"See? You look gorgeous as ever." He planted a quick kiss on my lips.
"Sebastian, what's the meaning of this?" I sighed.
"I did it for you," he said with a grin.
For me? But I hadn't asked for it. I would never want him to waste his hard-earned money on material things.
"Sebastian…" This man was something else. If I'd known all this was for me, I would've run. "What am I? I'm human. I'll die someday, and this body wearing all of this will turn to dust."
"Then, for the meantime, let it be on you." He smiled.
God, he looked even more handsome when he smiled. I still couldn't understand why he didn't do it often.
He toyed with the diamond ring for a moment, as if deciding its fate. Then he slipped it into his pocket. "I'll keep this. For future references."
Tears pricked my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "Sebastian… this thing you're doing to me—"
"It's gonna give you a mini heart attack?" His brows knit in concern, taking my words literally.
I shook my head. "No. It's just… too expensive. My worth isn't even up to a million."
My mind flashed back to the bracelet he'd bought me in Milan. That had been expensive too. I wondered if it had cost just as much as this—maybe even a billion.
"Baby," he murmured, caressing my hair where it was tied into a bun, his voice low and tender. "If you were to be sold, no one could buy you. Not even me. I can't afford you, honey. Because you are the most expensive and priceless gem I have ever seen. Men like me don't even deserve you."
God… I felt the sting in my chest.
Those were the most beautiful words anyone had ever spoken to me.
They cut straight into my heart, unraveling every guard I'd built. I couldn't hold back anymore. Tears slipped down my cheeks.
"Sebastian, I… this is just too much for me…"
"Shh…" He silenced me with his lips, kissing me with a careful, passionate devotion that made the world fall away.
I hadn't known the depth of his love for me until today. Whatever happened, I would never forget this moment. Never.
"¡Drago!"
The voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the passageway.
I jolted, breaking the kiss.
Sebastian and I turned toward the sound, and my breath hitched.
At the far end of the corridor stood fifty-one armed men, all pointing shotguns at us.
Fifty of them were dressed in sleek black suits. Only one stood out—dressed in an immaculate white suit, a pistol aimed directly at us. His grin was a predator's, cruel and knowing.
He looked about the same age as Sebastian, with the same brown skin tone, shoulder-length dark hair, and fine, striking features—a pointed nose, chiseled jawline.
But the malice in his eyes was unmistakable.
We'd been ambushed.
"Shit!" Sebastian cursed under his breath, yanking me behind him.
My heart slammed against my ribs, a frantic, merciless rhythm. This… this felt like my last day on earth. Silent prayers tumbled in my mind, desperate and breathless. I'd never been in a scene this deadly—never even close.
Was this real? Or had I been dropped into some twisted action movie? God, if this was a dream, someone needed to wake me up. Now.
"È così bello vederti, Lolek." The man's voice dripped with mockery. "It's so good to see you again, Lolek. Corri da molto tempo. Puoi correre ma non puoi nasconderti. You've been running for a long time. You can run, but you can't hide."
"Oh, per favore, stai zitto e perditi, Rico." Sebastian's tone was ice. "Oh, please, shut up and get lost, Rico."
I stayed pressed against his back, my hands clutching his shirt. I couldn't understand every word, but I didn't need a translation to know what was coming. The air was thick with danger—war was here.
"Senti," Rico continued, voice taunting. "Non voglio che spaventiamo la ragazza. Lascia che venga da me in sostituzione della mia ragazza che hai ucciso e questa guerra si fermerà. Look, I don't want to scare the girl. Let her come to me in replacement of my girlfriend you killed, and this war will stop." His laugh was cold.
"Vaffanculo, Rico! Tu tradimento!" Sebastian barked back, his muscles tight with rage. "Fuck you, Rico! You betrayal!"
"Lolek, questo sono io che cerco di essere gentile. Consegna la ragazza, ora." Rico's voice sharpened like a blade. "Lolek, this is me trying to be nice. Hand the girl over. Now."
Sebastian's answer was a snarl. "La tua ragazza è morta perché eri sciocco. L'hai servita come cibo ai draghi e io ho fatto quello che dovrebbe essere fatto bene. Non scherzare con la coda del leone, Rico. Te l'ho detto prima, sono un drago, il capitano del culto di Draco. Io. Sono. Come. Mortale. Come. R. Virus. Your girlfriend died because you were foolish. You served her to the dragons, and I did what needed to be done. You don't mess with the lion's tail, Rico. I told you before—I am a Dragon. The captain of the Draco cult. I. Am. As. Deadly. As. A. Virus."
"Lolek! Ritirati ora, o dovrò sparare!" Rico barked. Surrender now, or I'll shoot!
I could hear Sebastian's breathing—hot, ragged, and furious. I had never seen him like this. Not once.
"Forza, Rico." His voice was pure fire. Bring it on, Rico.
Bang!
Bang!!
Bang!!!
"Jesus!" I screamed in horror as Sebastian pulled two revolvers from his waistband and opened fire—one after the other, bullets slicing through the air until fifty men lay lifeless on the floor. "Holy mother of the Lord!"
Before I could even process what had just happened, Sebastian grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward the far corner of the corridor. The cold wall pressed against my spine as he caged me in with his arms, shielding me completely.
His face hovered so close that I could feel the heat of his breath. My own heart hadn't slowed since the first shot—if anything, it was trying to punch its way out of my chest.
"Are you okay, my love?" he asked, concern etched deep in his face.
"I'm not," I blurted, no room left for pretense.
"Lolek! Smettila di nasconderti. Vieni fuori e affrontami!" Rico's voice bellowed down the passageway. "Lolek! Stop hiding. Come out and face me!"
Bang! Bang!!
"Ah!" I jolted violently as the gunshots rang out. My eyes flew to Sebastian's, wide and panicked. "Honey, what's going on? Is this… second world war?"
He placed a firm finger against my lips. "Shh. Relax, okay?"
"I can't." My chest heaved. "You know I have asthma. I'm not supposed to witness things like this! What if I develop high blood pressure and die?"
"My darling…" He pressed a kiss to my forehead, warm and steady. "You will not die. I'm sorry you have to see this. But I'm here—for you, for us. I've got you. You have nothing to worry about."
I nodded weakly. "Honey, that man is going to kill us. Didn't you see the look on his face? I don't want to die now. I'm the only child of my parents…" My voice cracked, panic clawing at me.
Damn it. I'd forgotten my rosary.
"Relax, and watch," Sebastian murmured, eyes sharp with certainty. "In the next five minutes, I'm sending him straight to hell."
"Lolek!" Rico roared again. I flinched hard, my back pressing deeper into the wall.
Sebastian turned his head toward the corridor, voice low and lethal. "Inizia a dire le tue ultime preghiere, Rico. Start saying your last prayers, Rico."
Another shot cracked through the passageway and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Sebastian," I gasped, clutching at his shirt, "I think I'm going to die. My heartbeat is raging so fast… I'm growing weak."
His eyes snapped back to me, blazing with something fierce and unshakable.
"Baby," his voice dropped, smooth and dangerous, "I need you to moan for me."
Huh?
"What!?" My eyes widened. "Moan? In this situation? Are you insane?"
Sebastian's gaze flicked toward the passageway, then back to me. He leaned in so close his breath brushed my ear. "Baby, just do it. Moan like I'm really f**king you."
"You're insane," I hissed back.
"I know," he whispered, almost smiling, "but come on—make it sound real. Just like you do when we make love. You know… when you scream my name in deep pleasure."
"But… why?" My voice was a mix of disbelief and curiosity.
"That's the only way to lure him out." His tone was flat, all business, though his lips curved ever so slightly.
My brows shot up. "Seriously?"
"Yes," he said, already growing impatient.
I drew a deep breath, bracing myself. "You mean, like this? Awww… mmmm… oh, baby… give it all to me…" I let the sounds drip with false lust, making my voice sultry and slow.
Sebastian's eyes gleamed. "Exactly. That's why I love you. Keep going—louder."
I pushed harder into the act. "Oh, honey… oh my Lord… mmmm… kill me, baby… owwww… Holy Mary… yes, right there… fuck me hard… ohmmm… harder, baby… go faster—"
Sebastian's shoulders shook with silent laughter. He was enjoying my performance far too much. "Yes, just like that. That's my girl. Perfect."
"Lolek, per l'ultima volta, consegna la ragazza!" Rico's voice thundered from the hall, followed by another gunshot. This time, I didn't flinch. The plan was working.
"Ehi, Rico, guarda!" Sebastian bellowed back in Italian, grinning wickedly. "Sto scopando la donna che volevi portare a casa stasera! Hey Rico, look—I'm fucking the woman you planned to take home tonight!" He threw me a shameless wink.
Heat crept into my cheeks despite the madness, and I bit back a chuckle.
"Lolek, stai superando il limite con un membro della birra!" Rico growled. "You're crossing the line with an Ale member."
Sebastian smirked. "Damn, Rico. She's so tight… I'm still trying to reach my climax. Argh! Is this what you were planning to enjoy after killing me? Sorry, I have to taste it first before I die." He let out a low, fake groan so convincing that I almost applauded.
We were mocking him, and it was working.
"Dragon!" Rico roared now in English. "Let go of the girl on the count of ten."
"One…"
Sebastian called back smoothly, "Can you hear it, Rico? She's moaning my name… begging me to push harder… God, she's so warm and wet for me…"
The man's voice was ice. "Two…"
My heart pounded—not from fear this time, but because I could feel Sebastian's real plan taking shape behind his act.
"Three…"
Sebastian's grip on his gun tightened.
"Four…"
He flashed me a devil's smile. "Almost showtime, baby."
Sebastian and I couldn't hold back our giggles. He stroked my hair lazily, as though this was all just a game.
"Rico," his voice dripped with mockery, "do you know I could have had a taste of your girlfriend before sending her to hell?"
My stomach twisted.
Oh no. That lady with the chamomile tea—she was this bastard's girlfriend?
And then it hit me. The night I spotted those faint bloodstains on Sebastian's white T-shirt… it wasn't some random thug. It was her.
He killed her. Shit. I knew it.
"Tsk." Sebastian clicked his tongue, his arm curling tighter around me. "But I didn't want to cheat on the beautiful woman standing before me." He winked at me, shameless, and I flushed crimson against my will. "She's too precious."
"Dragon! Eight!" Rico's fury shook the walls.
"Ughhh!" Sebastian let out a theatrical groan. "I came, Rico. Damn… that's a whole lot of juice dripping from me to her. Mmm, she's so yummy." He kissed my forehead and squeezed me close, both of us stifling laughter like children in a twisted play.
"Ten!" Rico's voice cracked, vibrating with rage. "Time's up, Dragon. Say hello to my grandpa in heaven!" His footsteps thundered toward our hiding spot.
"Son of a bitch!" Sebastian snarled, suddenly shifting. In one motion, he whipped out his revolver and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
Bang!!
Bang!!!
Bang!!!!
Bang!!!!!
"Mommy!" I shrieked, my whole body jerking in horror as the bullets tore through Rico's skull. I nearly lost control of my bladder right there.
The man collapsed, knees buckling, eyes wide but already dead. Blood spurted from his mouth and nostrils, soaking his pristine white suit in seconds until he was drowning in a scarlet pool.
Bang!
"Jesus Christ!" I jolted again, my hands flying to my mouth.
Sebastian didn't even blink. He fired another round straight into Rico's head. "Bastard. Say hello to your grandpa—and your girlfriend—in hell."
Bang!
Another shot. His voice turned sharp, almost feral. "That's for terrifying my woman. For even thinking you could take her from me."
The sound of my own scream ripped through the passageway.
"AAAaaaaahHHHHHHHHHH!!!" I couldn't breathe as the crimson river spread wider, swallowing the tiles. My stomach churned violently at the metallic stench. "Sebastian… oh my God… you just killed him!"
I doubled over, retching violently onto the cold floor. My stomach twisted and heaved until bile splattered across the tiles. I couldn't take it anymore—my body rebelled against the carnage I had just witnessed.
Sebastian didn't flinch. He spat on the corpse with ruthless disdain.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish, Rico."
By the time we reached the rooftop, the night air was thick with tension. Bruce hurried toward us, his face pale.
"Boss," he panted, "I forgot to mention—Rico and his men were stationed at every exit."
In the distance, the wailing of police sirens pierced through the city, a warning that time was running out.
"It's fine, Bruce," Sebastian said coolly, tightening his arm around me when he noticed the way my body swayed. "He's dead now."
"What?" Bruce's eyes widened, disbelief flooding his face.
"All of them." Sebastian's voice was final, merciless.
Bruce turned to me, worry flashing in his eyes. "Miss Barros, are you—" He didn't get to finish.
My vision tunneled, the rooftop lights blurring into streaks. My body felt weightless, cold. Before I could form words, the world went black, and I collapsed into Sebastian's arms.