Fin's legs gave out. He slumped heavily into the leather chair, eyes glued to the tablet Dominus had pushed toward him. His face had gone deathly pale, but beneath the shock, a deep, burning rage was building.
On the screen, the man in the ornate golden animalistic mask stood center stage, arms spread theatrically as the drone camera slowly panned across the excited crowd and the brightly lit amphitheater.
"Before we begin this year's Nexus," the masked host announced, his voice booming with dark charisma, "allow me to explain the rules for our newer members."
He paused for dramatic effect, letting the tension build.
"The Nexus Event is held once every year, and every event has its own unique theme. This year's theme is…" He smiled beneath the mask. "Master and His Slaves."
The crowd murmured with anticipation.
"Each Master has been assigned one or two slaves. Your goal, Master, is simple: by the end of the event, both your slaves must submit to you — completely. Body and mind. They must belong to you in every way."
He raised a finger, smirking.
"But the slaves are not without hope. If a slave can resist until the final moment of the event… they win their freedom. No consequences. No retaliation. They walk away."
The masked host chuckled darkly.
"Now, some of you might think — 'What's so difficult about this?' Keke… my dear members, that is where you are wrong. Every Master has been given slaves that are extremely difficult to conquer."
The camera panned slowly to a particular group in the front row. An older man sat between a mature, elegant woman and a younger woman who looked strikingly similar to her.
The host's voice rang out with malicious glee.
"For example… the two beautiful ladies you see here are a mother and her daughter. And their Master this year… is the father-in-law."
The audience erupted in excited laughter and applause.
"There are many such deliciously twisted pairs this year," the host continued. "So please, stay in your seats and keep your hands to yourselves for now. The real show begins tomorrow. Until then… enjoy the anticipation."
The feed continued showing various teasing shots of nervous women being led around the island under the watchful eyes of their assigned Masters.
Fin's hands were shaking violently. His breathing came in ragged bursts as he stared at the tablet, watching the brief glimpse of Clara and Sarah being escorted toward what looked like luxurious holding quarters on the island.
He looked up at Dominus, eyes blazing with a mix of fury and desperation.
"You sick bastard…" he whispered, voice hoarse. "You're really going to put her through that… in front of all those people?"
Dominus simply smiled, calm and composed as ever.
"That's life, dear Fin," he said lightly. "It doesn't always go as we plan, does it?"
Fin slammed his fist on the table. "Don't feed me your twisted views of life. Tell me what you want. You didn't do all this just for fun. There has to be something you're after. So tell me."
Dominus chuckled softly, tilting his head. "Oh my, I must have given you the wrong impression, Fin. I actually just wanted to meet for fun."
Fin's breathing grew heavier. His head started to ring with rage. The glass in his hand shattered, blood dripping from his palm onto the table.
"You shit-faced bastard," he snarled. "Tell me what you want, or I swear I will—"
Dominus stood up slowly, still smirking. "We'll talk after your anger subsides, Fin. It's starting to get boring."
Fin pressed the emergency button on his phone. The doors burst open instantly. James, the tanned, sharp-featured head of his personal security, rushed in with four armed men right behind him.
"Your orders, sir?" James asked, positioning himself protectively beside Fin.
Fin stood, breathing hard. "Stand down for now."
But his eyes never left Dominus. "Stop playing games and tell me what you want. There's no way I'm leaving my girlfriend with sick bastards like you."
Dominus laughed — low and mocking. As he walked toward the exit, his own guards surged forward from the shadows — double the number of Fin's men, all in tactical gear and carrying M4 rifles.
"If you really want to save your little girlfriend," Dominus said, pausing at the door, "then wait for my call. If you complete the missions I give you before your girlfriend becomes a public slut… I'll let her leave."
He glanced back with a cruel smile.
"Just so you know, that has never happened before. I'm only offering this because of you. Oh, and one more thing—" He pointed lazily at a sealed folder on the table. "There's your first clue about your father's death. I'm leaving now."
Dominus walked out, his guards covering his exit.
James looked at Fin, tense and ready. "Sir… your orders?"
Fin closed his eyes, breathing out slowly through his nose. Blood dripped from his cut hand onto the floor.
"Stand down," he said quietly, voice hollow. "Let them leave."
Fin stormed out of the penthouse without another word, his blood still boiling. The elevator ride down felt endless. The moment he stepped out of the building into the cool London night, he pulled out his phone and dialed Elena.
"Elena," he said the second she picked up, voice tight with barely controlled fury. "Immediately contact the security detail that was with Clara. Find out exactly how she and Sarah were kidnapped. I want every detail."
He slid into the back of the waiting Rolls-Royce, slamming the door shut.
"And those sick bastards are conducting some twisted games on an island," he continued, voice low and dangerous. "Our new cyber team — tell them to try tracing any signal, any transmission, anything at all. Find me something, Elena. Anything."
He ended the call and threw the phone onto the seat beside him. His head fell back against the headrest as denial and rage crashed over him.
"How… How the hell did they kidnap Clara?" he muttered, then suddenly shouted, "AHHHHHH!"
His hands flew to his hair, fingers gripping tightly as if trying to hold himself together.
He slammed his uninjured fist against the leather seat.
"What am I supposed to tell her parents? What the fuck am I supposed to do?!"
The driver glanced nervously in the rearview mirror but stayed silent.
Fin's mind kept replaying Dominus's words — the island, the games, Clara being paraded in front of hundreds of masked perverts. The thought made him feel physically sick.
Meanwhile, Harrington Tower – 27th Floor
Elena stepped out of the elevator, her black stiletto heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. Her crisp white silk blouse was tucked neatly into a tight black pencil skirt that hugged her hips, and sheer black stockings accentuated her long legs. She looked every bit the composed, professional secretary — but her eyes were sharp with urgency.
The entire 27th floor had been converted into a secure cyber command center just days ago. Rows of monitors glowed with multiple data streams, and a team of elite hackers worked in focused silence.
Elena walked straight to the lead analyst's station.
"New priority," she said, voice calm but commanding. "Clara Moreau and Sarah have been taken. We need to trace any signal, any transmission linked to The Ark or that island. Pull every resource we have."
The analyst nodded quickly, fingers already flying across the keyboard. "We're on it, ma'am. We've been probing their encrypted site for days. It's heavily layered, but we might have a lead on a possible satellite relay."
Elena stood behind him, arms crossed, watching the screens with cold determination.
"Work faster," she said quietly. "A lot of people's lives depend on this."
**
Marcus had just returned from chasing a lead when the news hit him like a hammer. Clara and Sarah had been kidnapped. Without wasting a second, he moved swiftly through the grand halls of the Main House, his heavy footsteps echoing.
Just when Fin was starting to return to some kind of normal… he thought, jaw clenched. What the hell is this guy's problem with this family? If I can just find the mole I've been hunting… at least I might uncover who this Dominus bastard really is.
He reached the private painting room on the upper floor and knocked firmly on the heavy oak door.
A minute passed.
Then Eleanor's voice came from inside, calm and measured: "Enter."
Marcus stepped in.
The room smelled faintly of oil paint and turpentine. Eleanor stood before a large canvas, wearing a loose white shirt that fell to her waist and fitted jeans, with an artist's apron tied over her clothes. Her rich brown hair was loosely tied back, a few strands framing her strikingly beautiful face. A few paces behind her, the valuable painting Fin had brought her from Monaco rested carefully on an easel.
Her brush moved steadily across the canvas, never stopping.
"Did you find the man you were searching for, Marcus?" she asked without turning around.
Marcus lowered his head slightly. "No, madam. Somehow he found out I was looking for him… and escaped."
Eleanor's brush continued its smooth strokes. "And?"
Marcus tensed, his voice growing heavier. "Clara and her friend have been kidnapped, madam. Our guards were locked inside the car. A sleeping agent was released through the vents… they were all knocked out."
Eleanor's brush didn't even quiver. "Someone from the inside."
Marcus's jaw tightened. "Most probably. I don't understand how so many moles appeared in our ranks so suddenly…"
Eleanor finally paused for a brief moment. "It means they have been planning this for a long time, Marcus. They were simply waiting for the right chance."
She resumed painting. "Anyway, leave that for now. Tell me… is Fin okay?"
Marcus stood silent for a second, clearly tense.
"Master Fin is physically okay, but… his hand was cut. Small injury."
The brush in Eleanor's hand suddenly stopped mid-stroke. The room grew deathly quiet.
"Bring him to me," she said, voice low and dangerously calm. "Now."
Marcus nodded sharply, knowing full well how protective Eleanor was. Even the slightest injury to her son triggered a side of her that very few people ever wanted to face.
He turned and left the room quickly, the door clicking shut behind him.