Three years ago…
Elizabeth
I settled into Bruce's black Bentley, the leather seats cold against my damp skin. He was taking me to Antoni's place. The farther we drove, the darker the highway grew, swallowed in sheets of rain. Only the headlights carved a path through the storm, cutting across the slick asphalt. The wipers dragged back and forth, pushing the relentless water aside, but every drop that splattered on the windshield left behind a hazy blur.
Out of nowhere, Bruce's voice broke the silence.
"You're the only woman he's never laid hands on."
I turned from the rain-streaked window to look at him, startled. "What do you mean? Does he… hit women too?"
Bruce hesitated, letting out a short, uncomfortable hm before shrugging. "Not all women. It depends. If it's just some unfortunate hook-up from an agency, and his temper snaps during one of his moods… then yes. Violence usually finds its way into the mansion."
I gasped, covering my mouth. "Oh my God."
He flicked a glance at me, then back to the road. "Am I prying?"
"No." My voice was soft, shaky, but curious. "I… I want to know. Go on."
It felt wrong—sitting here in the dark, listening to Bruce expose parts of Sebastian I'd never seen—but at the same time, I wanted to understand. Maybe then I'd piece together the man who both loved me and had just shattered me.
"The last time he hit a woman, she was a hook-up," Bruce said matter-of-factly. "She passed out. Woke up in a hospital the next morning."
My stomach turned. What? Sebastian? No. This can't be the same man who kissed me like I was air itself.
"Holy Mary, Mother of Jesus," I whispered, horrified. "How… how could he do that? Why?"
Bruce's hands tightened on the steering wheel. His tone was grim, detached, like someone stating a fact too heavy to dress with emotion. "Anger issues. He's easily provoked. Irritated. Jealous. Hot-tempered. He doesn't usually use his fists on them, though."
"Then what?" My voice trembled.
"He ties them to something," Bruce replied flatly, "and whips them with a belt."
My eyes widened, nearly popping out of my head. "God… That's pure wickedness."
Bruce finally turned, meeting my stunned gaze for just a second before returning to the highway. His expression didn't shift. "You won't believe me, because he's never done it to you. And he won't. You're different."
Different. The word echoed in my mind.
Different enough to love… or different enough to break in some other way?
Does he really think I'm foolish enough to stay and watch him brutalize women? No. I'd rather love myself the way I am now—whole, unscarred—than end up with my body wrapped in bandages and my pride in clutches.
"I'd rather run far away, Bruce," I muttered, my voice trembling with anger and disbelief.
He shook his head firmly. "No. That's not what I meant. The thing is—you changed him. Everything about him has been shifting, little by little, since the day he met you."
Oh, Lord. I didn't want to hear this. Whether Sebastian was a changed man or not, the fact that he could treat other women like disposable toys while treating me differently didn't make me feel special. It only hurt.
"You're his favorite," Bruce pressed on. "The apple of his eyes."
I frowned, disgust curling my lips, and turned my face back toward the rain-drenched window.
"My boss surprised me the day I realized he had a crush on you."
I let out a sharp snort. "No, Bruce. You thought wrong. That was lust. Nothing more." The words tasted bitter in my mouth. "Take our sudden breakup, for instance. At that time, maybe he just wanted to get laid, and looking at me, he thought, yes, I'll take it out on her."
Bruce chuckled softly, shaking his head. "It wasn't lust, Ms. Barros. It was love at first sight."
"Oh, whatever." I rolled my eyes, but my chest tightened.
"You don't understand," he continued patiently. "He's not the type of man who chases after women—or after anything except battles, wars, dangerous games, extreme competitions. He thrives on winning. That's who he is. But chasing you? That was different. That was… personal."
I pulled the towel tighter around me, trying to push away the chill seeping through the closed window.
Bruce's voice dropped lower, steadier. "Sebastian doesn't date. He doesn't commit. He doesn't sleep with the same woman twice—it's like wearing a filthy shirt to him, or rolling in mud. He's the kind of man who switches women the way he switches suits. He never spends a night without a hook-up."
I closed my eyes. I know. He's a sex addict. I've seen it.
"But you—" Bruce's eyes flicked toward me briefly. "You're the only reason Luca is still breathing. My boss knew how much you hate blood, and he spared Luca's life because of you."
I stared at him, stunned. "He… did that for me?"
"Let me tell you something, Ms. Barros." Bruce's tone sharpened with conviction. "From the very first moment you walked into that mansion three years ago—as nothing more than an instrumentalist—you caged his heart."
"Love at first sight?" I asked, throwing his own words back at him, half mocking, half fearful.
"More than that," Bruce said. "You killed his hunger for other women. They disgust him now. The very idea of calling a hook-up agency makes him sick. You won't believe this, but he hasn't touched another woman in the three years before you finally gave in and became his, just last week."
I blinked, my breath caught in my throat. That's… a joke. It has to be.
"You're serious?" I whispered.
Bruce sighed, shaking his head. "You still don't get it, Ms. Barros. My boss was a chronic womanizer, and you—of all people—turned him into a man who can only see one woman. You. He's committed to you. And that scares him more than you can imagine."
But I'm not a magician. I can't conjure change out of thin air.
---
Bruce had already called ahead to Antoni, letting him know we were coming. But he'd been careful—he hadn't breathed a word about the bloodshed, or the rooftop, or Rico.
The moment we stepped into the mansion, Antoni and Bianca came rushing down the staircase. They were dressed in matching pajamas—same color, same style—like siblings born as twins.
"Elizabeth!"
"Lizzy!"
Their voices overlapped in horror the instant they saw me.
Bianca reached me first, her arms wrapping around me before I could even speak. "Oh my God, what happened to you? You look so… drained." Her voice trembled with worry, the kind that could soften even the sharpest edges of my pain.
Antoni's eyes darted past me. "Where's Sebastian?" His tone was clipped, demanding, already searching for him. But the only one behind me was Bruce.
Bruce glanced at me, silently asking if he should tell the truth. I shook my head firmly. Not now. Not tonight. He caught the signal immediately and stepped away, leaving me with them.
Antoni's jaw tightened. "Did he touch you?" His fists clenched at his sides, his voice rising with fury. "Tell me, Lizzy—did my brother hit you? Because I know how he gets. He's a mad dog when he's angry."
I shook my head quickly, desperate to calm him before he exploded. "No. No, he didn't lay a hand on me."
"Then what happened?" Bianca pressed gently, her voice the opposite of Antoni's fire. She was always my balance. Natasha, on the other hand, would've already stormed Sebastian's penthouse with a shotgun if she saw me like this.
Taking a deep breath, I told them everything. Every word felt like a knife scraping my throat.
"He did what!?" Antoni's roar echoed through the hallway. His whole body shook with rage. "I swear, I'm going to his house right now—"
"No!" I grabbed his arm before he could storm out. "Not right now. He's still… annoyed."
"So what?" Antoni shot back, eyes blazing. "Was he blind when he threw your stuff out into the rain like trash? Huh? He lost something, fine. But that doesn't give him the damn right to break up with you, to shove you out of his life in the middle of the night like you're nothing!" He kicked at the railing, his temper as volatile as his brother's. "Fuck!"
I lowered my gaze, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm used to him already. I know he'll change."
"When!?" Antoni demanded, his chest heaving, eyes burning into mine as if he could shake the answer out of me.
"Didn't you hear her, honey?" Bianca snapped, her hands planted firmly on her hips. Her tone was sharp now, her patience thinning. "Your brother just broke up with her and threw her out under the heavy rain like she was nothing. I'm not going to take this lightly—you have to do something."
"Sweetie, I'll fix this, okay?" Antoni tried to soothe her, his voice gentler.
"I mean, look at her!" Bianca turned toward me, her eyes swimming with hurt. "She's so drained. And heartbroken. How could he use her and dump her like a piece of trash? What kind of man does that? He doesn't even have a conscience."
Her voice cracked with fury, and I hurried to stop her from spiraling. "Bianca—"
"No, Lizzy," she cut me off firmly, gripping my hand. "You're my best friend. I can't watch you suffer in silence. This… this kills me. Think about Natasha's reaction when she hears this."
I groaned softly. "Oh, please. You won't tell her." God forbid. Natasha was capable of stabbing Sebastian to death and smiling through the mugshot.
"Of course I won't," Bianca said, her voice softer this time. "Because I know you still love him." Then she pulled me into her arms, holding me so tightly it felt like she was trying to glue my broken pieces back together. We stayed like that for a long while.
"He'll come to his senses by morning," Antoni muttered finally. "When he realizes he slept in that empty bed all night." He exhaled heavily, as if weighing his own decision. "But I can't just stay here. I need to confront him now."
He turned to Bianca. "Honey, take care of Elizabeth. I'll be back soon."
"Sure," Bianca agreed, brushing a kiss against his lips.
Antoni grabbed a black umbrella from the stand by the door. Before leaving, he looked at me again. "Elizabeth, this is your house too, okay? You don't need an invitation. Stay here as long as you want."
I nodded, mouthing thank you. He gave me a tight nod back, then disappeared into the stormy night.
"Come with me," Bianca urged softly, slipping her arm through mine. "You need to freshen up, change into something warm." She guided me up the staircase, her touch steady and protective.
---
Narrator
Sebastian paced the length of his mansion like a caged animal. His hair was a mess from his restless hands tugging at it, his face drawn with regret.
To be honest, he didn't even know how it happened—or why. One second he'd been consumed by the fire of his own anger, and the next, Elizabeth was gone. His chest tightened with every memory of her standing in the rain, her eyes wounded more deeply than words could reach.
He felt foolish. Reckless. Stupid.
He had already grilled Bruce earlier, demanding to know where she went, but Bruce had stared him straight in the eye and lied. Said he hadn't seen her, hadn't even noticed her leaving.
And that lie only fueled Sebastian's torment, because for the first time in years, he was powerless.
Sebastian was unraveling. Worry and frustration gnawed at him like a beast with no leash. He cursed himself for being so damn stupid, for letting his temper rip the one thing that mattered most out of his life.
He had stormed out into the rain, his feet pounding across the compound as he searched frantically. He even made it to the beach at the back, calling her name again and again, only for the sound to vanish into the emptiness of the night, echoing back mockingly from the water.
Soaked and shivering, he returned to the house, each drop of rain clinging to him like guilt. His chest ached as regret hit him harder than the storm. He wished he hadn't said those words. He wished he hadn't thrown her out. More than anything, he wished he could drag back the hands of time and undo the damage.
But where was she now? The thought of Elizabeth, alone in the night, vulnerable… his stomach twisted. A hundred horrors flashed in his mind—her screaming for help, in pain, in danger. He shivered despite himself.
He pulled out his phone, desperate. He dialed her number, waiting with frantic hope—
And froze.
Her phone was ringing.
From inside his bedroom.
"Shit!" His voice cracked. He pressed a hand to his forehead, shaking. The walls felt like they were closing in. He wanted death in that instant—anything to escape the torment of knowing she had left without it.
Frustration clawed at his insides. He stumbled to the barware in the lounge and poured himself a heavy glass of whiskey. He downed it in one gulp, then another, then another. When the whiskey bottle ran dry, he switched to vodka. From vodka to spirits. But no amount of burn could quiet his storm.
Still restless, he snatched a cigarette, lit it with trembling hands. The smoke filled his lungs but gave him no peace. Not enough. He tossed it, grabbed raw tobacco instead, filling his mouth with bitterness—but the ache inside only deepened.
"Fuck!" he roared, his voice echoing through the empty mansion.
That was when the door slammed open.
Antoni stormed in, fury blazing in his eyes. Before Sebastian could speak, Antoni's fist connected with his jaw. The blow was so sudden, so sharp, that Sebastian crashed to the floor with a grunt.
"You're here smoking and drinking your life away after causing emotional damage, huh?!" Antoni spat.
Sebastian blinked in shock, blood tinging his lip. "What the—hey! Don't you dare do that again. I'll break you."
But Antoni only rolled up his sleeves, veins bulging with rage. "It's been a long time since I stretched my fists with kickboxing." He cracked his knuckles—and landed another brutal punch to Sebastian's face.
"Fuck!" Sebastian groaned, clutching his jaw as he writhed on the ground. "Antoni, did you just—ouch!" Another hit exploded across his nose.
"Shit! Stop it! Stop!" Sebastian's voice grew hoarse, desperate. "I don't want to fight you. You're my cousin!"
"Keep family out of this!" Antoni snarled. He grabbed a fistful of Sebastian's hair and yanked him across the floor toward the lounge.
Sebastian clawed at his grip, cursing. "Shit! Stop. I said stop!"
The thuds and crashes echoed down the hall. Bruce, alarmed, rushed in at once. "Sir!"
But Sebastian raised a hand, blood on his face, his chest heaving. "Leave us, Bruce. We'll handle this ourselves."
Bruce froze, torn, then stepped back.
Antoni's fist curled again. His voice was thunder as he roared: "Fight me, brother!" And before Sebastian could recover, another punch connected with savage precision.
The alcohol was already making Sebastian weak. His body could endure an absurd amount—liquor never knocked him out immediately, even if the percentage climbed past eighty-nine. But tonight, the weight of everything was pulling him down faster than usual.
Bruce stood back, silent witness to the chaos. The last time he'd seen Sebastian and Antoni fight was as teenagers—fourteen, maybe. But that had been sparring during combat training, not this. This was different. This was rage. This was real.
Bruce's gut told him it all boiled down to Elizabeth. He had half-expected Antoni to come after Sebastian eventually, but not tonight, not with fists flying like this.
Anyone else would've had their bones shattered already. But this wasn't just anyone—it was Antoni, Sebastian's cousin. And Sebastian wasn't striking back. He let Antoni's fists land, each blow making him look less like the feared captain and more like a man paying penance.
Sebastian's breath grew shallow, his voice hoarse as he staggered, "What's my offense?"
Antoni's fist answered before his mouth did. "You used her and dumped her."
Sebastian reeled back, wiping blood from his lip. "I did?" he rasped, dodging the next strike.
The question alone snapped Antoni's restraint. He saw through Sebastian's denial like glass. "Don't play dumb—you broke up with her, idiot!" Another blow cut across Sebastian's cheek.
"I was paranoid—I lost the deal with the investors!" Sebastian threw up an arm to shield himself, his voice desperate, searching for excuse.
Antoni's glare burned hotter than his fists. "That doesn't explain shit, moron!"
"I didn't know what I was thinking when I threw her out," Sebastian choked. "I—I was already planning to fix things by morning—"
"Too late, asshole!" Antoni roared. His boot crashed into Sebastian's stomach, flattening him to the ground. "You gave her to the dogs of the night."
Sebastian's eyes widened, horror written all over him. "No…"
Antoni leaned closer, his tone razor-sharp. "A random guy gave her a room tonight. And guess what?"
Sebastian shook his head violently, voice breaking. "No, no—don't say it."
Antoni's smirk was cruel. "He'll be fucking her till morning."
Bruce bit his lip, trying not to laugh, but the sight of Sebastian's face—fear mixing with jealousy—nearly split his composure.
Sebastian coughed, his breath catching as he struggled up on his elbows. "No… Antoni, no. You have to take me there now. I need to speak with her."
"Why?" Antoni mocked, circling him like a predator. "Just picture it, brother—her on another man's bed, even if it's just for one night."
The words ripped through Sebastian like claws. His chest heaved, and the violent urge inside him flared hot, almost uncontrollable. His knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists. "I'll kill him," he growled, eyes wild. "I'll rip his throat out."
Antoni and Bruce exchanged looks. Their lips twitched, fighting against the laughter boiling up. To see the untouchable Sebastian unraveling like this—because of her—was more than either of them had expected.
"You called off your relationship, coward. You've only yourself to blame," Antoni shot back, his voice as sharp as the fists he'd thrown minutes ago.
"No—it wasn't me. It was my emotions in control, not me…" Sebastian panted, still sprawled on the floor. His chest heaved, every breath a struggle, his strength drained from both the fight and the alcohol.
Antoni cocked a brow, mocking. "Is that so, old man?"
The word old cut deeper than the blows. Sebastian's face burned with shame. "I'm just thirty-three. Thirty-three isn't old, idiot."
Antoni's lips curled in amusement. "Don't you think you've already lost her? Elizabeth's as hot as Bianca—and she's only twenty-three. Still young, still fresh… Do you really think she'll stay abandoned for long? Tsk. She's probably already moved on."
"Elizabeth is still my girlfriend!" Sebastian roared, his voice trembling with desperation. "I still love her, and I'll do everything—everything—to bring her back."
Antoni's mock pity deepened, his tone taunting. "Too late, brother. She's already in someone else's arms. What a pity."
Sebastian staggered to his feet, swaying like a man struck by a storm. "Antoni, you have to help me find her. Please."
Antoni widened his eyes theatrically, clutching his chest in fake horror. "No, I can't, bastard. And besides…" He turned his gaze to Bruce. "Do you know where she is?"
Bruce immediately shook his head, his hands flying up in protest. "I don't either. I haven't seen her since morning."
Sebastian's heartbeat thundered in his ears. Panic clawed at him, suffocating. "You have to help me, Antoni. Please, I'm begging you. I can't lose her."
"I already told you—I don't know where she is," Antoni smirked. The pleasure in watching Sebastian unravel was written all over his face. The fool deserved it. Let him drown in regret. Next time, maybe he'd think twice before breaking Elizabeth's heart.
Sebastian stumbled toward the barware, shoulders slumped, sobs breaking from his throat. He seized a bottle of liquor, uncorked it, and drank straight from the glass. The burn in his throat was nothing compared to the agony in his chest. "I don't know what came over me… before I did what I did. I can't afford to lose her. I've become addicted to her. I love her too much. She must be somewhere… lonely, cold… oh God—what have I done?"
Bruce and Antoni exchanged a look from across the room, both silent, both watching as Sebastian crumbled under the weight of his own guilt.
When Sebastian turned back to Antoni, his eyes were red, his face streaked with tears. "She's my life, brother. Please, you have to help me. I'll die if I lose her."
Antoni folded his arms, his expression hardened but his voice still dripping with mockery. "Are you sure you haven't already lost her? You told her to her face it was over, remember?"
"I was stupid!" Sebastian's voice cracked, exploding with anguish as he hurled the liquor bottle to the ground. Glass shattered, echoing through the room. Bruce flinched, Antoni stiffened.
Sebastian's fists trembled at his sides, his voice raw and broken. "I never meant any of it. Not a single word. I love Elizabeth too much. I can't—I won't—lose her. It wasn't me who broke up with her. It was my anger. My demons. Not me."
"Sebastian, I've always told you—learn to control your temper. But you never listen. And now…" Antoni's voice lashed out, sharp as a whip, "look where it has gotten you."
Sebastian dragged his trembling fingers through his long, silky hair, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. His voice cracked with desperation. "Antoni, I need to speak with her. I need to fix things between us. Please… help me. Help your brother, please."
Antoni exhaled slowly, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable. For a moment, silence lingered in the room, heavy as chains. Then he cast a glance at Bruce, whose only response was a helpless shrug.
Finally, Antoni looked back at Sebastian, his eyes narrowing. "Are you sure you're ready to man up and face her?"
Sebastian's head bobbed up and down with frantic urgency, hope flooding his pale face. "Yes. Yes—yes, I swear. Please… take me to her. I'll do anything."
Antoni studied him for a long moment, weighing his words, savoring the desperation burning in his brother's eyes.