I grunted, biting back the pain searing through my knuckles. My whole hand throbbed like it had been smashed against concrete, but I forced myself to breathe through it. I flexed my fingers, one by one, testing if they were still intact. Nothing broken—lucky me.
Sebastian just stood there, grinning like the smug bastard he was. "Aww, did that hurt?" he cooed, mocking sympathy dripping off his words.
I glared at him, but before I could fire back, he cut me off.
"Listen, kid. I don't know who the fuck gave you the balls to walk up in here and talk shit, but in case your memory's failing you—I give the orders. You follow them."
He reached out and brushed my hair back, fingers lingering longer than necessary before gripping my chin and forcing my eyes to meet his. "You understand?"
Of course I understood. Sebastian was four years older, twice as ruthless, and had the upper hand in every possible way. Strength, rank, power. Hell, he practically bled intimidation. But this wasn't about me. This was about Theo. About Isaaq.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and softened my expression. "Look, Seb… there's gotta be another way. I mean, what exactly are you trying to gain from killing—"
"The heir to the Malrione empire?" he interrupted smoothly. "Victor Malrione's one weakness?"
I tried again. "You said you didn't care about Victor. Even if you wanna take him down, what did Theo ever do to you?"
His hand tightened on my chin.
"What's so special about Theo that you suddenly want to protect him?" he said, eyes narrowing.
Shit.
My eyes widened. "N-nothing. He's nothing to me," I stammered, yanking my head away and avoiding his stare.
But he wasn't done. He pulled me back with more force this time, digging his fingers into my jaw. Pain flared.
"You've gone soft, baby brother," he hissed. "Could it be… that bastard you've been sneaking around with? The Almasi reject?"
That did it.
"Don't fucking talk about him like that," I snapped, shoving him hard in the chest.
He barely stumbled. If anything, he looked amused.
"Of all the bastards in the world, you fall for him?" he laughed coldly. "Even his own family doesn't want him. He's pathetic, and so are you for defending him."
My fist connected with his face before I even realized what I was doing.
"Oh Christ," Carmine muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "Alright, listen, boys—"
Sebastian straightened, cradling his jaw with a grin. "That one actually hurt," he chuckled. Then his tone shifted. "Everyone out. I need a little chat with my baby brother."
The room fell silent.
No one dared say a word. Carmine gave me a tight pat on the shoulder as he passed, but I couldn't even look at him. The guards followed quietly.
And just like that, it was just me and Sebastian.
Shit.
I'd been trying to avoid this — the inevitable. But the second that door locked, the air changed.
"Seb, what the hell are you thinking?"
He didn't answer. Just walked to the door, twisted the lock, and turned around with that wicked glint in his eye.
"Looks like you're finally getting that ranking match."
Ice rushed through me.
No. Not this. Anything but this.
I'd barely survived the last time. If I had to go up against him again—
Silence.
Even Aiden, my usually loudmouth alter ego, had gone dead quiet.
Great. Just fucking great.
"I'm not fighting you, Seb," I said, trying to stay steady.
He barked a laugh. "Like you've got a choice. It's simple: if you win, I'll listen to whatever bullshit you've got to say. That'll make you the Demonhead. But if I win…" he paused, lips curling into a smirk, "we'll think of something fun later."
For a second, I hesitated. Then Isaaq's face flashed through my mind. His laugh. His pain. Everything I swore to protect.
Fine.
I slipped off my jacket and tossed it aside. My heartbeat was a war drum now. I raised my fists, one step back, left foot angled — ready. Or at least pretending I was.
"Let's fucking go then."
Sebastian stood there, hands tucked casually into his pockets, eyes locked on me like he was studying prey. That smug smile on his face—it didn't sit right. He was waiting, reading me, measuring how much I had left in the tank.
For a moment, we just stared at each other, no one making the first move. Then he launched.
I barely blocked the first hit. He moved so fast it felt like I was fighting a blur. My feet dragged backwards, struggling to stay grounded. He didn't pause. Blow after blow came crashing at me. I could barely defend, let alone strike. I kept my guard up, but he was relentless.
Then—crack.
He broke through. His fist slammed straight into my gut and I hit my knees with a guttural choke, coughing up spit and blood.
"Fuck!"
Before I could even catch my breath, he grabbed me by the collar.
"You're not thinking of going down now, are you?" he growled.
I knew this side of him. The switch that flipped when he fought. He didn't just want to win. He wanted to destroy. He hated when they dropped too early. It pissed him off. And that made him even more dangerous.
I reached up and grabbed his head, slamming my forehead into his—hard. The crack echoed. He stumbled back just enough for me to break free.
I didn't wait. I pushed through the pain and surged forward. One hit. Two. A clean punch to his ribs. A solid uppercut to his chin. It was working—kind of. But he wasn't flinching. Wasn't dodging. Just taking it like I was tickling him.
Then, boom.
A single punch from him and I was flat on my back.
"Get up," he said. Cold. Void of anything human.
I coughed, tasted blood, and wiped it out of my eye. Somehow, I got on my feet. Barely.
Then—bam. His fist collided with my jaw once. Then again. Then a third time.
I went down like dead weight.
I couldn't breathe. My body screamed. My head pounded. Blood blurred my vision. One eye was useless now.
But he wasn't done.
"Get up," he repeated, like a command.
I tried. Hands on the ground, legs shaking. I was crawling just to stay alive.
But I was too slow.
A brutal kick slammed into my ribs.
"Ahhh!" I cried out, my body folding.
"Get the fuck back up!" he snarled.
Another kick. And another. Each one knocked the breath out of me. I was going to break—something inside me already had.
I did this for Isaaq… I wanted to protect him. Prove something. But I failed.
Seb grabbed me like a rag doll and hurled me into the wall. My back slammed into the tiles. Before I could slide down, his fists were already on me. Body shots. Uppercuts. I couldn't feel anything anymore—just numb heat and sound and flashes of light.
I collapsed again. I couldn't stand.
Then—his hand. Around my neck. Tight.
I choked, barely able to get the words out. "Seb… please… stop… I…"
But he wasn't there. Not mentally. His eyes were gone. Wild.
I clawed at his arm, nails dragging down his skin. My limbs stopped moving. My chest wouldn't rise. My vision dimmed.
Is this how I die?
Heh. I really am pathetic.
And then—air. He let go.
I gasped, wheezing. My chest rose, barely. My eyes opened just enough to see him. He looked… terrified. Regret washed over his face like cold water. He looked at me like he'd just realized he'd gone too far.
He picked me up. I didn't know if I was floating or if my body was just shutting down. I was so damn tired.
I think we were leaving the office.
I could hear Carmine's voice. Then Sebastian's. Muffled. Sharp.
Then—darkness.