Sebastian

After sunrise, I completed my daily routines and made my way to the first floor for breakfast.

As I descended the stairs, a smirk formed on my lips. The traitor’s screams echoed through the castle halls—Alexis’s recording playing flawlessly. He never failed to impress me.

When I entered the dining nook, everyone was already seated, prepared for the day. Their assignments had been given based on skills and positions.

The maid served me breakfast, which I ate without a word. The others attempted to join me, but eating in my presence was no easy task.

Some clasped their forks and knives too tightly, while others struggled to swallow their food. Fear was etched into every expression.

Good.

That fear served as a reminder: Never bite the hand that feeds you. Now, none of them would accept an enemy’s offer so recklessly. I thrived on their fear, and the sense of power over them filled me with satisfaction.

Only Alexis was unaffected.

Unbothered by the tension, he ate casually, as if it were just another morning. Yet I could see the disdain simmering inside him. I couldn’t help him with that—it was his demon to fight, not mine.

“Is everything ready, Daniel?” I asked when I finished my meal. My tone was professional, deliberate. They needed to understand—I was their employer, not their friend. I owned them. They couldn’t breathe without my permission.

“Yes, Master. Everything is ready,” Daniel replied confidently. Pride flickered in me despite myself. He might behave like a pampered fool most days, but during missions, his discipline rivaled even Alexis’s.

“Have a lovely day, everyone!” I said mockingly as I rose from my seat. My voice was taut, arrogant, every word dripping with sarcasm. I didn’t care. Fear was my language, and they understood it well.

Outside the dining hall, I was met by Daniel’s team—armed men, disciplined, waiting. Daniel himself appeared with the car keys, as was his duty. My brand-new black Bugatti gleamed on the patio, months ahead of its official release. The company had given it to me as a bribe—one of many perks of ruling the most feared empire: the Mafia.

With the keys in hand, I slipped behind the wheel and started the car. The engine purred, then roared to life, raw power at my fingertips. I drove hard, tearing away from the castle gates. In my rearview mirror, three sports cars opened the path ahead while four more followed behind, all painted black. Daniel’s security formation was flawless. I was impressed.

Thirty minutes later, I reached my private airport, where my jets awaited. One was already prepared for departure. Without slowing, I accelerated straight into the aircraft’s rear entry ramp—my car and I were inseparable. Daniel’s team boarded soon after, scouring the plane before taking their places.

I reclined in my lounge while the pilot announced weather conditions. This island was my home; I had grown up here, learned every corner of its terrain. It gave me a strange sense of comfort, even now.

A flight attendant appeared, politely inquiring about my needs. Once satisfied that I was comfortable, she departed, and I immersed myself in the stack of confidential files awaiting my attention.

By the time we landed, evening had fallen. I drove straight from the jet onto the waiting vehicle outside. An earpiece slid into my ear, connecting me to Daniel through the convoy’s encrypted network.

“Daniel, change of plans. We head to Ryan’s club. The banquet begins soon, and all the important guests will be there. We won’t waste time on minor meetings,” I ordered.

My convoy pierced through the bustling city streets, turning heads wherever we passed. Civilians froze, gawking, cell phones raised—capturing power on parade.

At the club entrance, Daniel opened the door for me. Ryan’s manager approached, presenting a bouquet with unnecessary ceremony, before leading us inside. Daniel’s men cleared the way.

The ballroom overflowed with power—politicians, officers, businessmen, all pretending confidence while fear betrayed them the moment I stepped in. I knew they would be here. They always came where power gathered.

We were taken to the private banquet hall—the one I knew well. This was where the ‘Auction’ was held. As I entered, silence blanketed the room. Every man in attendance rose to greet me.

Daniel guided me to the gallery. My throne—always the room’s centerpiece—shone brighter once I claimed it.

One by one, the powerful approached, offering propositions. Yet behind every word, I saw only one truth reflected in their eyes: fear.

I scanned the room for Ryan, but he wasn’t there. Instead, my phone buzzed with his message:

{Ryan: Hello, Seb. I bought a new toy for my mind and will enjoy it. Enjoy, buddy! Also, find yourself a beautiful toy.}

I slipped the phone back into my pocket without reacting.

Just then, a stranger approached—rough expression, harsh voice, hand extended.

“Hello, Mr. Sebastian King. My name is Xavier William.”

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