Chapter 2 - The Hunt Begins
The penthouse erupted into motion. Within an hour, Sebastian had discarded the stoic mask of the corporate titan and donned the armor of the man he had once been—a man who burned worlds to protect what was his.
Vincent returned, reading the contents of the letter over Sebastian’s shoulder. His face grew grim. “Portland, Maine. That’s two thousand miles away.”
“Then we fly,” Sebastian said, grabbing his weapon from the wall safe. “Find out who was tracking her. Not our usual rivals. I want the deep history—find the shadow investors behind the Marlowe Foundation.”
“Sebastian, if the Syndicate is involved, this isn't a retrieval mission. This is a war.”
“Then we bring a war,” Sebastian retorted.
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As they boarded his private jet, the storm followed them. Sebastian spent the flight staring at the photograph of Leo. He had missed five years of his son’s life. Five years of first steps, first words, and first heartaches. A cold, black rage began to simmer in his blood—a rage that had nothing to do with the business and everything to do with the preservation of his own flesh and blood.
He realized now why she had stayed away. She hadn't left him because of his life of crime; she had left to create a vacuum where he wouldn't be forced to choose between his throne and his soul. But she had underestimated his ruthlessness. If she had been alive, he would have forgiven her for anything. Now that she was dead, he would make the world pay for the time he had lost.
