Chapter 8

Sebastian’s POV: Continued

As I navigated the chaotic streets of New Orleans, adrenaline surged through my veins like a wild river, pushing me forward. My car screeched through intersections, the tires barely gripping the asphalt as I blew through every traffic light and stop sign. My mind was a storm of thoughts, each one more frantic than the last, and I could feel the weight of my responsibilities pressing down on me like a heavy shroud.

I didn’t have to worry about the police; half of them were on my payroll, a silent agreement forged in fear and necessity. They wouldn’t dare pull me over, not when they knew the consequences of crossing me. In this city, I was the law, not because I was righteous but because I had the power to enforce my will.

Ever since the shattering loss of my parents, a cruel twist of fate that left me with nothing but a burning desire for vengeance and protection, I had clawed my way to the top. Shelly was all I had left, and I would do anything to keep her safe. I had become ruthless, a predator in a world full of prey, and I had no qualms about it.

Arriving at the warehouse, I pushed through the heavy doors, my expression as cold and unyielding as granite. The starkness of the dimly lit space was a fitting backdrop for the grim task ahead of me. My eyes locked onto the man bound to the chair before me, a pitiful sight that filled me with an insatiable rage. Without a moment’s hesitation, I stepped forward and delivered a brutal punch, connecting squarely with his nose.

The sickening crack that reverberated through the air was music to my ears, and the guttural groan that followed offered only a fleeting satisfaction. It was a mere appetizer, a prelude to the feast of violence I craved, and I unleashed a torrent of punches, each one a manifestation of my pent-up fury, until Mitchel intervened, yanking me away.

“Sebastian, we need answers. We can’t get them if you kill him first,” he pleaded, urgency threading through his voice, a stark reminder that I had to maintain my focus amidst the storm of emotions. “Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Just let me go,” I snapped, my frustration boiling over as I pulled up a chair, positioning myself directly across from the quivering figure. I leaned in, my gaze piercing him like a dagger as I began my interrogation, demanding answers that would lead me closer to the truth. “Who the hell are you?”

“Who sent you?”

“Why the fuck were you tailing my stepsister?”

His laughter sliced through the tension like a knife, a chilling sound that twisted my stomach with its malevolence. It was a taunt, a derisive mockery that ignited a primal fury within me. My fist connected with his face once more, the satisfying crunch echoing in the hollow space around us.

“Your stepsister will soon be lost to you, dear Sebastian. This is the beginning of your end, and you will never see Shelly again,” he jeered, his raucous laughter reverberating through the air, each note a dagger aimed at my heart.