SEBASTIAN

No. No. No.

Melisa was kidnapped.

I'm losing my mind. I can't stop thinking - who the hell is behind this bullshit?! My fist slammed into the wall, shattering the frame and scattering documents I had Andrew hold. Papers flew everywhere. "Andrew!" I roared. "Where the hell is my whiskey?!"

"Master, you've been drinking too much. It's not good for you anymore," he said coldly, his face unreadable. His emotionless response lit a fire inside me. He doesn't get to tell me what to do. My chest tightened, and my vision blurred. My eyes burned with tears. I didn't know what else to do. It's been months. Months without Melisa. No trace. No clue. Nothing. I was going insane. I didn't care about my appearance anymore. My reflection was a ghost - messy, tangled curls, an overgrown beard, clothes unwashed, wrinkled, barely held together. I rarely showered. I didn't care.

Without Melisa, I am nothing. "Andrew! I need my fucking whiskey! Or I swear to God, I'll kill you!" Without a word, he stepped forward and - slapped me. Hard. Then he grabbed my collar and shoved me against the wall.

"You need to pull yourself together, Sebastian Vale!" he growled. "You're a fucking Vale! I've never seen you this weak - not even at your lowest. So get your shit together and act like the man you are." I froze. His words hit me like cold water.

He was right.

He was fucking right.

Being Vale wasn't about the name I inherited from a bastard family - it was about me. I am Sebastian Vale. And I'm not weak. Andrew let go of me, straightened my collar, and stepped back. "My apologies, Master. If you still want the whiskey - it's in the cabinet, third row." I exhaled sharply. He opened the door and walked out.

Frustrated beyond belief, I grabbed everything in reach and flung it across the room. Papers, files, books - all of it scattered and flew like broken wings in the air. "I swear to fucking hell!" I screamed, my voice cracking with fury. "I will find Melisa. And I will kill every single one of them."

I'm getting out of this miserable pit. Melisa? She's always been my strength. Without her, every day and night feels hollow - like I'm breathing, but not living. I've searched endlessly. No signs. Not even a shadow of her. I don't know what to do anymore.

I'm miserable.

Desperate.

Hope was slipping through my fingers, grain by grain. Seven months. Seven fucking months without a single lead? until today. Andrew burst into my office, breathless, holding a folder in his hand. "Sir? you need to see this." I grabbed it with trembling fingers and tore it open. My heart sank - photos of Melisa, bound and bruised, flashed before me. My stomach twisted. My jaw locked. And then? a voice message.

Play.

"What's up, Sebastian Vale! Do you remember me?

Of course, you do. You killed my fucking brother.

And now, I'm gonna take what's yours -

This precious little girl of yours."

He cackled like a madman, and in the background - I heard her. Melisa. Her muffled screams, her desperate cries.

"Fuck!" I growled, my hands shaking, rage boiling through my veins like lava. My body moved on instinct, heart pounding with pure fury. I grabbed my Wilson Combat SIG P320, locking and loading it with no hesitation.

This was it.

I stormed out, climbed on my BMW motorbike, and fired up the engine. While speeding down the road, I called my men.

"This is it," I growled into the comm. "Get ready. We're going in." It's been too long since I've spilled blood. Too long since I've watched a bastard beg for mercy. But this time, there will be no mercy. Wait for me, Melisa. Just hold on, baby. I'm coming for you. And I'm going to burn the whole fucking world down to bring you back.

I stopped at the abandoned building - cracked walls, flickering lights, reeking of rot and old blood. My boots echoed in the silence. The bastard I've been hunting for months - James Arthus Frederick - stood in the middle of the open floor, smug, dressed in a white suit like he was some kind of godfather.

Perfect.

Once I slit his throat, I'll get to see red - his favorite color, whether he likes it or not. James, the infamous arms and drug smuggler. Influential? Sure. But nothing close to me. We used to do business together. I knew his brother too - before I put a bullet between his eyes. Didn't even know they were related back then. I found out afterward. Do I regret it?

Hell no.

His brother was a backstabbing thief, trying to steal fifteen billion dollars from under my nose. And now this lunatic wants revenge? Please. They're brothers, alright - both born from the same rotten flesh.

I don't have a brother.

And if I die tonight - which I won't - I'll die knowing one thing: I want Melisa. I want a thousand babies with her. I want us. I chuckled at the thought, stepping out of the shadows with confidence, the cool grip of my Wilson Combat SIG P320 steady in my hand. James turned, and our eyes locked. He looked surprised, maybe even amused.

Without hesitation, I raised my gun at him.

Click.

In an instant, all his men reacted - guns pointed at me from every direction. But poor James doesn't know who he's playing with. I've killed more men than I can count. I've survived twenty years inside an asylum. I know what real madness looks like - and I am madness.

I laughed - unhinged and dangerous.

"You really think you can scare me with those pea-shooters, James?" I said, eyes dark with fire. "Cute suit. Shame it's white? red's gonna suit you better." He twitched. And then? silence. I glanced up. Every shadow in this building - every corner - my snipers were stationed, my men ready. Hidden eyes, hidden triggers. His entire army? Dead in ten seconds if I signal it.

I raised an eyebrow, stepping closer.

"You wanted drama? I don't do fistfights, James. That's too poetic. Too clean." I smirked, gun aimed right between his eyes.

"Why should I dirty my hands? when I've got bullets?" And with a single snap of my fingers - chaos erupted. Gunfire. Screams. Then silence. Just silence and the sound of bodies hitting the ground. Every single one of James' men - wiped out in seconds. Blood soaked the floor like spilled wine, pooling around lifeless limbs. It was almost... satisfying. A symphony of vengeance painted in crimson.

But it wasn't done.

Melisa. I still hadn't found her. And that meant I had unfinished business.

I turned back to James - barely standing, eyes wide in disbelief. His once-pristine white suit was now stained with the blood of his own men. Red bloomed across his knees as he knelt, trembling.

I didn't have time for this coward. I marched over, gun still warm in my grip, eyes burning. "Tell me where Melisa is - and maybe, maybe, I'll let you live," I growled, voice low and venomous.

"But if you don't?" I chuckled coldly. "I'm still going to kill you. The only difference is how fast you die." James just laughed - mad, breathless, broken.

Wrong move.

My men stepped in, delivering a blow so hard he gasped, choking on blood and air.

I knelt in front of him, pressing the barrel of my gun right between his eyes, surrounded by the corpses of his men - bloody, twisted, lifeless. His world had fallen apart in a matter of minutes.

His trembling lips tried to form words.

But I didn't flinch.

"Tell me? where the fuck is she?!"

No mercy.

No patience.

Just Sebastian Vale - unforgiving, merciless, and driven by one name. "You know," James coughed, blood staining his teeth as he smirked, "if you kill me right now, Sebastian Vale, your precious little Melisa? she'll still die. Drowning."

He laughed - unhinged, taunting.

"And even if you do save her? she'll hate you." My whole body stiffened. What the hell was he talking about?

"Where the fuck is she?!" I barked, gun pressed harder against his skull. "I don't have patience for your sick riddles, James." He chuckled again, that mocking smirk not leaving his face. "You killed her grandmother, didn't you?" he hissed. "You asked my brother to go to the house. Her grandma thought he was a thief, tried to protect herself - and he accidentally killed her. But none of it would've happened if you didn't send him."

No.

No, no - I never ordered his brother to that house. I never touched Melisa's grandmother. I didn't even know she was home that day.

"You're lying," I whispered, but something inside me wavered. Doubt clawed at the edges of my mind.

"I told her everything," James grinned with blood-slicked teeth. "Told her who really started it all. You. Her knight in shining armor."

My vision blurred. Rage blurred everything - until all I saw was red.

"You piece of shit!" I roared, slamming my fist into his face, blood spraying from his broken nose. "What the fuck did you tell her?!"

He just laughed louder, spitting blood as if it were venom. And that was it. The last line crossed. My finger curled on the trigger without hesitation.

Bang.

The first bullet tore through his chest.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

One after another, until the laughter stopped. Until the smirk was wiped off forever. Until the white coat was soaked through - deep red. He slumped, lifeless, a pathetic heap among his dead men. But I didn't feel peace. I only heard her name ringing in my head like a siren.

Melisa.

heard her.

A muffled cry - somewhere above. Melisa. My heart pounded against my ribs as I tore through the stairwell, taking two steps at a time until I reached the rooftop. The door creaked open, and there she was - tied to a metal chair, mouth covered, her eyes wild with fear the moment they met mine. "Melisa!" She struggled, sobbing beneath the gag. I ran to her, dropped to my knees, and ripped the bindings from her wrists, my hands shaking. Her skin was bruised. Her body, thinner. My chest cracked with every detail. "It's okay. I'm here now, baby. I'm here." I pulled the gag off and she gasped for air - but before she could speak, her body went limp, collapsing into my arms.

"Melisa? Melisa - no, no, don't faint now, stay with me," I whispered, holding her tightly against my chest, pressing my face into her hair. "You're safe. I've got you. I swear to God, no one's ever gonna touch you again." I don't know what I'll do if she dies. The thought alone crushes something inside me - something human, something I thought was already long gone. But now, kneeling here beside her motionless body, I realize it wasn't gone at all. Just buried. "Baby... open your eyes."

My voice cracked. I sounded like a stranger to myself. "Open your eyes for Daddy. Come on, just once." I shook her gently, my hands trembling. Her skin was still warm, but her chest wasn't rising. No soft breaths. No flutter of lashes. Just stillness. My voice cracked. For the first time in a long time? I cried.