Narrator
Sebastian was in his office, pacing around with his phone in his hand. He was on an audio group call with his six best friends and cousin.
"Wait, I don't get it." Frank is still trying to picture the situation. "Your four year old son shot Lorenzo? Like, it's a joke to me, man. That guy is made of skills and intelligence. He's one of the top hardest. How did your son do that?"
"How the hell did that bastard sneak into your car?" Ben's voice came in.
Sebastian ran his hand through his face and sighed, "For real, man, I thought I checked the car properly before locking it up."
"It's weird to me. I just can't imagine it. You need to be extra careful." Matt added.
"Just imagine your son wasn't there at that moment. Lorenzo would have succeeded." Callaway said.
Maybe Lorenzo would have because the old Sebastian that used to do things without mercy was all gone six years ago when he fell in love.
Sebastian sat on the couch and loosened his grey tie. "I don't know what marriage is turning me into. This is not the real me." He finally confessed. "Guys, you need to have seen how scared I was when Filip threatened me with Elizabeth and the kids. I almost peed in my pants. I just tried my best to maintain a good composure."
"Hey, hey, hey, let me tell you. I know we all are on the same page as you in terms of marital issues but threats won't wear me down. Come on, you're a bold guy too. Where's the solid heart you used to have?" Antoni said.
"Elizabeth had softened it a long time ago." Sebastian truthfully answered and the others laughed.
"Come on, let's be real here." Antoni sighed. Even him knows he's not the same guy that does things without mercy. Relationship and love has changed him too. "Filip was just trying to get to your weak spot and if you show it to him, he'll use it against you."
"That guy is a father of many nations. Impregnating almost all the women in the universe, spreading kids everywhere and ruining people's lives. He never got married in the first place so he doesn't understand how it feels to fight for a family. I don't blame Seb if he feels uneasy about the situation." Dobrav stated.
Seb took a deep breath as he tried to accept his friend's advice.
"Filip killed Betty, Sebastian. But I let that slide." Frank said. "And now he's threatening you with your family. I don't think you should sit back and cross your arms doing nothing."
Yes. That's it. He can't sit back feeling reluctant. Never. The old him has to return to this body.
"That's the point!" He stood on his feet as a thought flicked into his head. Pacing about, one hand tucked into his pocket. "Antoni, by the end of today, I want you to summon the entire cult. We're having a serious meeting tomorrow."
"You heard it, guys. Help me inform the others." Antoni reminded the others even though they're still on the call. "Filip is going down."
He can't take Filip down alone. Filip is a strong guy just as he is. And fighting him is like beating himself too because they both share the same skills acquisition. If you can't catch Sebastian, it surely means you can't catch Filip too.
They were the strongest and greatest mates ever. And Seb is mentally calculating how to get his hands on Filip once and for all even when he knew putting the lives of his friends and cult members at stake, it won't help matters.
Filip was like the wind. No one catches him. Only he catches people and his main alternative had always been Sebastian. He hated having a pair like Sebastian and he wanted to end him. Because Sebastian was evil but not as evil as Filip is.
A long time ago, Sebastian had put out his old characteristics of being a serial killer but now, it's like someone just summoned the old merciless dragon out of his snare.
And this time, he's not sparing anyone. He'll leave no stone unturned. If anyone falls on this stone, they'll break to pieces and if the stone falls on anyone, it'll smash them to pieces too.
That is the kind of person he is. Don't blame him if he does the worst because he won't be leaving a throne for Filip's generation to take over.
**********
The cult chamber sat deep underground, hidden behind a false wine cellar door and a spiral staircase of blackened steel. The air was warm, almost heavy, thick with the scent of incense and faint cigar smoke. Dark stone walls enclosed the space, their surfaces rough yet gleaming with a faint lacquer under the dim, golden light. Black-and-red silk banners draped from the ceiling beams, each embroidered with a fierce, coiling dragon — its eyes set with tiny rubies so they seemed to glow in the half-light.
The floor was polished obsidian tile, inlaid with a massive dragon emblem at the center, claws outstretched in all four directions. In each corner of the room, a sculpted dragon head jutted from the wall, mouth open, holding either a torch or a chain of hanging bronze lanterns. Shadows danced across the stone like restless spirits.
Against one wall stood a long, heavy table of mahogany, its surface etched with the cult's oaths and blood signatures from decades past. The opposite wall displayed glass cases holding ceremonial daggers, pistols with pearl grips, and relics of previous leaders.
The men wore tailored black suits cut in a uniform style — single-breasted, narrow lapels, and sharp pressed lines. The shirts beneath were either deep crimson or snow white, depending on their rank. Around each man's neck rested a black silk tie embroidered with the same coiled dragon symbol in silver thread. On the lapel, a small dragon-shaped pin glimmered like a badge of allegiance. Some higher-ranking members wore long black coats lined with crimson silk, the inside embroidered with hidden patterns only visible when the coat was opened.
A low hum of conversation filled the room, the voices deep and controlled. No one spoke loudly; respect and fear hung in the air like a physical weight. The lighting came only from the flicker of dragon-head torches and a single chandelier wrought in iron and shaped like interwoven dragon tails.
At maximum capacity, the room held around forty men. Each stood with military precision, spaced in perfect formation around the central emblem on the floor, leaving the dragon's head unobstructed for the leader's place.
At the far end of the room rose a dais of three stone steps, upon which sat a high-backed chair carved entirely from black wood, the arms shaped like dragon claws. Behind the throne, a massive banner displayed the dragon sigil, its tail wrapping around a blood-red circle — the symbol of eternal loyalty.
The meeting room was a world away from sunlight. Deep in the belly of the estate, lit only by the gold-tinged glow of dragon-headed sconces, the air hummed with the weight of secrets.
Sebastian sat on the throne, the high-backed chair carved in blackwood with talons for armrests, the dragon sigil looming large on the banner behind him. Around him, his closest allies leaned in, voices low but sharp, trading strategies on how to bring down Filip — the untouchable. The man was as dangerous as Sebastian himself, a mirror in skill and ruthlessness, with roots deep in another syndicate's blood-soaked soil. It's almost like saying: let's kill Sebastian or let's take him down. On which they all know it's impossible.
Or maybe we can put it this way by saying: let's kill the wind or let's grab the air and hold it until there's no breeze in this world.
Very impossible and out of point. Now, that's how Sebastian and Filip are. And the only person who is capable to deal with any of them is just the both of them. In other words, the only opponent to take Filip down, is his second kind: Sebastian.
Sebastian listened, his eyes drifting now and then to the live CCTV feed on his phone. One screen showed the gardener working in the garden. And another showed his children playing by the pool upstairs, sunlight glinting off the water — a stark contrast to the shadowed plotting here.
Then he froze. His gaze narrowed.
"Lilly," his voice rolled out, half growl, half disbelief. "Put your damn pants on now… and don't pee by my pool."
The room went quiet for a beat, his men exchanging awkward smirks they dared not voice. Sebastian's eyes slid back to them, his expression snapping shut like a steel trap. "Continue."
The conversation picked up, heavier this time. Maps were exchanged. Dates and names whispered like curses. Plans for surveillance, sabotage, and subtle traps built layer by layer — a spider's web meant for Filip alone. In the flickering torchlight, the dragon sigil on the wall seemed to watch, its jeweled eyes glinting with hunger.
**********
The night was heavy with fog, the kind that curled around lamp posts and clung to the streets like it didn't want to leave. Sebastian's convoys rolled in silently — black SUVs with tinted glass, engines purring like predators before a strike. Inside, his men were dressed in their dark tactical suits, dragon insignias stitched on their sleeves, eyes cold, movements precise.
Filip's hideout was an abandoned shipping yard on the far edge of the docks, where cranes stood like skeletal sentinels and the scent of salt and oil mixed in the damp air. The intel was perfect — Filip and his entire crew were inside, celebrating some victory. Perfect for slaughter.
Sebastian gave a small nod.
The signal.
Two men flanked left, three melted into the shadows to the right and fifteen spread around. He moved straight down the center, a Beretta 92FS in one hand, a short blade strapped to his thigh. The first gunshot cracked the silence — one of Filip's guards crumpled without a scream. Then chaos erupted.
The yard became a storm of gunfire and shouting, muzzle flashes painting the fog in violent bursts of orange.
Sebastian moved like water — fluid, lethal, unrelenting — every shot deliberate, every step calculated. His men cut through Filip's crew like blades through silk, each target falling in under three seconds.
Filip emerged from his hideout at last, a SIG Sauer P226 / P320 raised to Sebastian, face twisted in fury. "You should've stayed in your castle, Captain," he spat.
Sebastian's smirk was razor-thin. "And miss the pleasure?"
Filip narrowed his eyes, "You just stepped into the lion's den and I swear it, Cap. You'll be regretting why you trespassed me tonight."
"Twenty-four hours like I said. And it's happening, Filip. Now you'll know why some refer to me as 'King Of Hell.' I am a man of my words and I damn mean every words I say when I say them. You'll be kissing your father's ass in hell." Sebastian spat back.
They fired almost simultaneously. Sebastian's bullet grazed Filip's shoulder; Filip's shot punched into Sebastian's left arm, hot pain flaring instantly. He didn't stop moving. Ignoring the blood seeping through his sleeve, Sebastian closed the distance, yanking Filip in by the collar. They throw their guns away and began exchanging fists.
Some of Sebastian's men wanted to take advantage of the situation to bring Filip down but Bruce stopped them and signaled them to retreat. Knowing well that only the two opponent could dealt with each other. If a third party is involved, lives would be lost.
The fight was brutal — elbows, knees, the wet crack of bone — until Sebastian's blade found its mark under Filip's ribs. He stabbed him so many times using all his might and available power. Then he found one of Filip's ceremonial sword.
He stood on his half dead body and smiled devilishly, "When I said your corpse would be six feet beneath the earth, I mean every word of it. Now, say hello to Lucifer in hell."
He swung the sword over Filip's neck like he wants to play golf and the guy's head fell off his shoulders, hitting the ground in a loud thud. Pands of blood gushing out like waterfall.
By the time the fog began to clear, not one of Filip's men was breathing. The ground was littered with bodies, weapons, and the metallic tang of blood in the air. Sebastian stood over Filip's corpse, breathing steady despite the pain in his arm, his black coat catching the faint glow of the dock lights.
He glanced at his men. "Burn it. All of it."
They moved without hesitation, setting fire to the yard, the orange flames rising high enough to paint the night like a warning to anyone who might think of taking Filip's place.
Sebastian slid back into the SUV, cradling his arm but wearing that same cold, untouchable expression.
The job was done. The message was clear.
Peace be to the nation.
**********
At the time Elizabeth woke up and didn't find her husband with her in bed, she became worried. It was the first time he left the house without informing her where he was going.
She cradled her baby who was soundly asleep beside her and kissed her head before getting up to check on her triplets.
On her way out, her eyes flicked on the giant wall clock that sat on the wall by the top of the exit door. Then she knew it was quite midnight and began to wonder where her husband could be at such an hour.
She held the rosary hung on her neck and whispered a silent prayer. Her eyes went to the small table adorned with a porcelain Mary, framed by candles and fresh lilies. She took a deep breath as she believed her prayers had been answered.
She checked on her triplets. They were very much fast asleep. Liliana was good at mumbling something in her sleep and it made Elizabeth smile.
She pats her head a little and kisses her hair. Afterwards, she stood up and yawned when she felt sleepy again.
But, she battled with sleep. She hasn't seen her husband yet and sleep should be the last thing right now.
When the sleep kept bulging in, she decided to go downstairs to get caffeine from the kitchen or probably tea.
Just when she got to the staircase, the front door opened and Sebastian walked in, cradling his bleeding arm. His white inner sleeves stained with blood sprinkles, the spot where his injured arm was, soaked his dark coat's arm but he didn't look bothered about it as he walked in freely.
"Sebastian?" Elizabeth hastened down the stairs to meet him. "What happened to you? Where did you go?" She searched his face, his body—all over. Then she met his eyes, "Talk to me, my love. What happened? Why are you looking like this? Look at the blood everywhere on you."
"I'm okay. You don't have to get worked up over anything." He smiled and she wondered what was amusing right now.
"Baby, you're not." She cupped his face in her hands. Even the sleep she needed caffeine for, had left her long ago. "Was it robbers or some bad guys? You should have told me before leaving. I'm worried about you. I called your phone, you didn't answer. I called Bruce, but he didn't answer."
He took her hands which were on his face and clip them on his neck. His hands hovering around her waist. "I told you I'm fine. It was just business and it needed to be attended to urgently. Sorry I didn't announce it to you. Hmm?"
He kissed her lips for a while until she pulled away to check his arm. "Why is your arm bleeding? You got into a fight on your way back?"
He winced when she touched it and she stopped. "Ah, yes. Just some hoodlums who stood on the way. I guess they shot me by mistake."
Sebastian would not tell her the truth. Not now. Not ever. Because she has a very fragile heart and can't digest things easily. In fact, she would go crazy just to find out the battle he just strived out from.
Elizabeth's eyes bulged. "Hoodlums?" She's surprised. "Are they crazy? Look at what they've done to you, my husband." She took his hand in hers and guided him with her. "Come, I'll give you first aid."
"Where are the kids?" He asked as he followed her like a puppet.
"Fast asleep."
When they got to the room, she helped him clean his wounds and applied some treatment on it. Then she wrapped it up with a clean white bandage. His arm now appeared nice.
Sebastian looked from his arm to his wife's eyes. He glued his eyes there for a while even though she wasn't focusing at first.
When she caught him staring, she frowned. "What?"
A sweet priceless smile crest on his face. "Thank you."
She sighed heavenwards. "God, honey. Stop thanking me. I did nothing, okay?"
"Of course you did. And a lot of it." His voice is low, deep and calm. He inched closer to her, covering the space between them. "I've bled for you… and I'd do it again without blinking."
She wanted to hold back the laugh hanging in her mouth but it fell out after all. "That's not something a sane man says."
He nodded, "Maybe love was never meant to be sane. Because it happened to me unaware."
There's something about how he looks at her, talks to her, smiles at her. It's not the first time he's doing it but this moment just feels different to her.
And she somehow feels shy and embarrassed. She tries not to meet his eyes. "You're a sane man, Sebastian. And everything just kind of happened."
He reached for her face until she lifted her eyes and saw the burning passion in his eyes. "Rose." He simply said.
And she was like: "Rose?" Then she remembered he has a garden at the side of the mansion. "Oh, yeah, in the garden. What about them?"
"I never planted them for beauty… only to hide the blood beneath." His voice low and raspy as his breath brushes her lashes.
"That's haunting." She giggled a bit. It only turns out awkward.
"So is the thought of you walking away." He said.
And she was mute. Both in brain and in terms of speaking. Elizabeth did not know how to reply to what he just said. He just app-freezes her mode of speaking.
She kept staring for what seems like ages and he was doing the same too.
She didn't know where she got the urge to speak when she said: "Then stop me."
His eyes fell on her plumpy lips, "Gladly."
He cups her jaw, pulling her into a kiss that's both a surrender and a claim.
He was never meant for salvation. She was never meant for sin. But together… they became each other's only truth.
The world called it impossible. They called it ours. And somewhere between his sins and her prayers, they found the kind of love that could rewrite fate.
She pulled away, "You were my greatest sin." Her voice is barely above a whisper, her breath mingling with his as his thumb brushes along her cheekbone.
"And you… my only salvation."
He tilts her chin, their lips meeting in a kiss that tastes of everything they were never meant to be — fire and devotion, sin and grace. His hand lingers at the small of her back, holding her as if letting go would undo the miracle they'd become.
~~~~THE END~~~~