SEBASTIAN’S POV
I woke up before dawn, the room bathed in the faint silver light of an impending sunrise.
Sasha’s steady breathing was the only sound in the room, soft and calming like a distant lullaby. I lingered for a moment, my gaze fixed on her sleeping form.
Her hair splayed across the pillow in delicate waves, her lips slightly parted. She looked so peaceful, and I hated the thought of leaving her without saying goodbye.
But this was my life. The demands of my world didn’t wait for anyone-not even her.
Rising quietly, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. The maids were already awake, bustling around with their usual efficiency.
I approached one of them, Maria, who was arranging fresh ingredients on the counter.
“Good morning, Maria,” I said, my voice low to avoid startling her.
She turned, her eyes widening slightly before she smiled. “Good morning, sir. What can I prepare for you?”
“It’s for Sasha. Something light but filling. She’s been skipping meals lately,” I replied, my tone laced with concern.
Maria nodded. “I’ll prepare something special for her right away.”
I leaned against the counter, watching as she worked. My thoughts wandered to Sasha.
The last few weeks had been tense, full of misunderstandings and unspoken fears. Last night had been a breakthrough, a step toward healing. Leaving her now felt wrong, but duty called.
While Maria cooked, I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the kitchen drawer. Sitting at the small table, I scribbled a quick note.
_”Sasha, I didn’t want to wake you-you looked so peaceful. There’s something I need to take care of this morning, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Eat something, and don’t overthink everything like I know you will. Trust me.
Yours, Sebastian.”_
By the time I finished, Maria was placing the last touches on a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit.
She handed it to me, and I attached the note before leaving it on the dining table where Sasha would see it.
As I left the house, the weight of what awaited me settled on my shoulders. Roland was already waiting by the car, leaning casually against the sleek black sedan.
“You’re late,” he said, his tone teasing as he opened the passenger door for me.
“Good morning to you too,” I replied, sliding into the seat.
The drive to the Manor was quiet, the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of Roland tapping on the steering wheel the only interruptions. I stared out the window, my mind cycling through potential scenarios.
The Manor was always a place of power, secrecy, and danger. Whatever awaited us there wasn’t going to be simple.
When we arrived, the towering gates of the Manor swung open smoothly, revealing the sprawling estate within. Guards in dark suits stood at attention, their eyes scanning every inch of the car as we approached.
One of them stepped forward as we exited the vehicle. “Follow me,” he said, his tone curt and professional.
We were led through the grand halls of the Manor, the opulence of the place almost overwhelming.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceilings, and the floors gleamed with a polish so perfect I could see my reflection.
Finally, we reached the double doors of the office where our boss awaited. The guard knocked once before pushing them open, and Roland and I stepped inside.
Our boss sat behind a massive mahogany desk, his sharp eyes studying us as we approached. He was a man of few words, preferring actions over pleasantries.
His presence alone commanded respect, and the faint air of menace around him made it clear why he was in charge.
“Sebastian,” he said, his voice low but firm.
“Welcome back. I’ve heard excellent things about your recent trip. You’ve proven once again why you’re one of my most trusted men.”
“Thank you,” I replied, keeping my tone steady. Compliments from him were rare, but they always came with strings attached.
He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “I have another task for you. Something that requires your particular… talents.”
I exchanged a brief glance with Roland, who raised an eyebrow.
Our boss didn’t waste time. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a brown envelope, sliding it across the polished surface toward me.
I stepped forward and picked it up, the weight of it in my hands feeling heavier than it should.
Inside, I knew there would be names-targets. People who had crossed the line, disrespected the hierarchy, or posed a threat to the organisation.
“I want each of the men listed in that envelope dead by noon,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. “No mistakes, no loose ends. Do what you do best, Sebastian.”
The room was silent, the gravity of his words sinking in. I nodded once, tucking the envelope under my arm.
“Consider it done,” I said, my tone leaving no room for doubt.
“Good,” he replied, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Now go. Time is of the essence.”
As we left the office, Roland turned to me. “Noon, huh? That’s cutting it close, even for you.”
I didn’t respond immediately, my mind already working through the logistics. The targets, their locations, the timing. Everything had to be perfect.
“Let’s get to work,” I said finally, my voice calm but resolute.
We exited the Manor and headed back to the car. I opened the envelope, scanning the names and the brief descriptions accompanying them.
Each name brought with it a surge of adrenaline. This was what I did best-eliminating threats, ensuring the safety and stability of the organisation.
Roland started the engine, and we sped off into the city. The clock was ticking, and failure wasn’t an option.
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