SEBASTIAN’S POV
I stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office, the night skyline of the city sprawling before me, its lights glittering like tiny beacons of life. Yet, the view offered no solace tonight.
A nagging thought had taken root in my mind, growing more insistent with every passing minute: Roland wasn’t where he was supposed to be.
I glanced at the clock-11:48 PM. Roland never left the house without telling me first.
That was an unspoken rule, one he’d adhered to without fail. I ran a hand through my hair, irritation prickling beneath my skin.
Roland wasn’t just an employee; he was someone I trusted implicitly. His actions reflected on me, on everything I’d built, and tonight, his absence was an anomaly I couldn’t ignore.
Pulling my phone from the desk, I scrolled through my contacts and tapped on Roland’s name. The phone rang once, twice, three times before he finally picked up.
“Boss,” his voice greeted me, slightly slurred.
I frowned. “Where the hell are you, Roland?”
There was a pause, followed by the unmistakable background noise of music-loud, bass-heavy music.
I could hear the chatter of voices, the occasional burst of laughter, and the clinking of glasses. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where he was.
“I’m at a club,” Roland admitted, his tone casual, as though this was a perfectly normal thing for him to be doing on a weeknight without informing me.
“A club?” I repeated, my voice sharp. “Since when do you leave the house without telling me first?”
Roland sighed, the sound laced with something that sounded like exasperation. “Look, I just needed to blow off some steam, alright? Thought I could use a night out.”
I clenched my jaw, the weight of his words pressing against my already thinning patience.
“And you didn’t think to let me know? You’ve never done this before, Roland. What’s going on?”
There was a pause on his end, the music in the background filling the silence. Then, as if trying to defuse the tension, he said,
“Why don’t you join me, Boss? You could use a night out too. It’s been a while since you let loose.”
I almost laughed at the absurdity of his suggestion. Me? At a club? The very thought was laughable.
I wasn’t the kind of man who indulged in distractions like this, not anymore. My life was structured, deliberate. There was no room for chaos, no room for mistakes.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not interested.”
“Come on,” Roland pressed, his tone turning playful. “Live a little, Boss. You work too damn much. A night out won’t kill you.”
“It’s not about that,” I snapped.
“It’s about the fact that you left without telling me. You’re not some teenager sneaking out for a joyride, Roland. You know how I operate, and this… this isn’t it.”
Another sigh from his end. This time, it sounded more like resignation. “You’re right,” he said finally. “I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.”
“Damn right, you should’ve,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Where exactly are you?”
“Club Noir,” he answered without hesitation.
Of course, it had to be that place-an exclusive, dimly lit venue frequented by people who had more money than they knew what to do with.
I’d been there once, years ago, and it had left an impression, though not a favorable one.
It was the kind of place where secrets were traded like currency, where people wore masks-figurative and literal-and indulged in the kind of decadence that made headlines.
“Stay where you are,” I ordered, my voice cold and clipped. “I’m sending someone to get you.”
Roland let out a dry laugh. “Relax, Boss. I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll head back when I’m ready.”
“That’s not how this works, Roland,” I said, my tone brooking no argument.
“You work for me. When I ask where you are, you tell me. When I say I want you back, you come back. Understood?”
There was a long pause, the tension crackling through the line like static. Finally, he said, “Understood.”
“Good.” I paused, considering my next words carefully. “I want to see you first thing tomorrow. We need to talk.”
“Fine,” Roland agreed, his tone subdued. “I’ll be there.”
The line went dead, and I set my phone down on the desk, my thoughts churning. Roland’s behavior was out of character, and that alone was enough to set me on edge.
He was one of the few people I allowed close to me, one of the few people I trusted. If something was going on with him, I needed to know what it was-and fast.
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling as the events of the day replayed in my mind. It wasn’t just Roland’s sudden departure that had unsettled me.
There were other things, subtle shifts in the air that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Whispers of discontent, fleeting shadows at the edges of my vision.
It was moments like this that reminded me why I’d built walls around myself, why I kept my circle small and my emotions in check.
Trust was a fragile thing, easily broken and almost impossible to repair. And yet, here I was, questioning the loyalty of someone I’d trusted for years.
With a sigh, I stood and walked over to the bar cart in the corner of the room. Pouring myself a glass of whiskey, I took a slow sip, letting the warmth of the liquid spread through me.
It did little to calm the storm brewing in my chest, but it was better than nothing.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming, something I wasn’t prepared for. And if there was one thing I hated more than betrayal, it was being caught off guard.
The thought of Roland at Club Noir, surrounded by strangers, drinking and dancing like he didn’t have a care in the world, filled me with unease.
He wasn’t the type to indulge in excess, not without a reason. And if he had a reason, I intended to find out what it was.
Finishing my drink, I set the glass down and walked back to my desk. The city lights outside seemed dimmer now, their brilliance muted by the weight of my thoughts.
Tomorrow, I will get my answers. One way or another, Roland owed me that much.