7. Gomez Mansion

—Gomez Mansion—

“Dad, why did you even bring that crazy man here?” Matthew snapped, glaring sharply at the man standing behind their father.

Who knew what Mac Arthur might do? His mind was already unstable—one wrong trigger a disaster would fall to this place

“Bleeh.” Mac Arthur glared back like a child and stuck out his tongue.

“See, Dad?” Matthew said irritably, pointing straight at him.

It would be humiliating if Mac caused trouble here. No one ever knew when his madness would surface.

“Enough,” their father scolded. “Both of you. We’re not at home, so don’t cause trouble.” He took Mac Arthur’s hand firmly. “I’ll watch him myself.”

Matthew shot Mac a sharp glare but Mac only grinned and raised his middle finger.

Crazy bastard. As always.

Matthew followed them deeper into the mansion, where they soon reached the head of the Gomez family. Diego Gomez, his wife, and their young daughter.

“We offer our condolences, Uncle Diego, Auntie Hana for Havier’s death,” Matteo said solemnly. He had arrived earlier, before their father, Mac Arthur, and Matthew.

“Thank you very much for coming,” Diego replied, tears shining in his eyes as he shook hands with their father and Matteo.

Mac Arthur’s attention drifted aimlessly, his gaze wandering in every direction. If their father hadn’t been holding his hand, he would have already run off.

“Condolences as well, Uncle Diego,” Matthew said as he reached Matteo’s side.

Diego shook his hand. Matthew felt it immediately. The trembling. The grief of a man who had lost his only son.

It slammed into Matthew unexpectedly, dragging him back to the moment he learned his own mother had died while giving birth to him.

His fist clenched. He remembered Mac Arthur’s breakdown. The accusation. The words that never stopped echoing in his head

'It’s your fault!! BRING BACK MY MOM!!'

“If you don’t mind,” their father asked gently, “how did Havier die? We were shocked by the news. He wasn’t sick, was he?”

Matthew can't stand it any longer so he slowly leave and slip out of that place that make him very suffocating. He can't stand the heavy atmosphere that surrounds them.

Guards lined the estate, though fewer than at his own home. Business tycoons filled the halls—some familiar, others strangers. The Gomez mansion was massive, built to host power and blood alike. The food area was separate from where Havier’s coffin lay.

Matthew didn’t bother seeing the corpse as he was used to seeing a corpse

He drifted toward the back of the estate, near the delivery gate. That was when he saw it.

A stance..... Familiar..... So familiar.

A man stood with his back turned red cap, red polo shirt and black pants. He was waiting as a box was unloaded from a truck beyond the gate.

Matthew’s heart skipped violently. Why did that back feel so familiar? Like the one at the club.

Like the—

Realization slammed into him. No.....Impossible.

Was he really seeing that man here too? Has his mind finally snapped? Maybe he truly needed to consult his doctor.

Yet his body refused to move. He had to see his face. Just as the man began to turn—

Matthew’s phone rang.He didn’t want to answer it but he still did as it might be an important call

“Dad, why di—” His father cut him off.

[“Son, your brother, Mac Arthur is missing.”] Matthew didn't even have a time to react cause at that exact moment, the man Matthew had been staring at turned around and faced him.

What the hell????

[“Son, did you hear me?? I said your brother is missing!!”] His father’s voice exploded from the speaker, sharpened by panic and authority.

Matthew did hear him. The problem was that his mind was tearing itself apart because that man was the same man who had saved his life.

The same man he had seen at the Eclipse Club.

The same fucking man.

And now, standing right there and calmly walking away. Matthew’s thoughts collided violently inside his skull. What the fuck I supposed to do?

Chase that man? Or find that lunatic brother of mine??

[“MATTHEW!”]

His father’s roar thundered through the phone. Matthew knew...really fucking knew that his father was already beyond furious. This wasn’t anger anymore. This was the kind of storm that destroyed everything in its path and if anything happened to Mac Arthur, his father’s precious Golden Son. Matthew would be dragged straight into hell with him.

“Y-Yes,” Matthew said quickly, forcing his voice steady. “I heard you, Dad. I’ll go find him.”

The call ended abruptly. Matthew slid his phone into the pocket of his black suit, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. His eyes followed the delivery man by instinct alone as the man walked toward the back doors of the Gomez Mansion, carrying two boxes, another delivery worker trailing beside him with a massive crate.

I’ll fucking find you again. Matthew swore silently, his nails biting into his palm.

Then he turned and ran. The main hall had descended into chaos.

Bodyguards from their family were everywhere, spreading out in frantic clusters, their usual discipline shattered. Radios buzzed nonstop, overlapping voices barking updates, questions, curses. Panic hung thick in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Matthew spotted Theo immediately. The man looked like he’d aged years in minutes, fingers locked around his radio as if crushing it might somehow summon Mac Arthur back.

“What’s the update?” Matthew demanded. “Have you found him?”

Theo shook his head sharply, another wave of radio chatter cutting through before he could even speak.

Fuck!! Where the hell did that lunatic go?

He had warned their father but his father never listened. Matthew bolted through the mansion, passing Gomez guards and their own men alike, all moving fast, all tense, and all calling out names that echoed uselessly off marble walls.

“MAC!! WHERE ARE YOU?” Matthew shouted.

His chest tightened. Nothing bad happened to him... right? Matthew swallowed hard, dread coiling tighter and tighter around his ribs.

Then it hit him. The CCTV!!

“I should check the CCTV footage,” he muttered, already moving.

He reached the main security office and nearly collided with his older brother Matteo, who was bent forward, breathing hard and eyes full of worry.

“Did you find him?” Matteo asked immediately.

Matthew shook his head. “Let’s check the CCTV,” Matthew said. “Maybe we can see where he went.”

Matteo didn’t argue. He just nodded, and they went inside together.

They reviewed the footage frame by frame. Hallways. Guests laughing. Guards walking routes. Corners, doors, staircases.

Nothing. Not even his shadow has been captured by the camera

“Where the hell did he slip through?” Matthew growled. “How did he avoid every camera?”

Then another clip played. “There,” Matteo said sharply.

On the screen, Mac Arthur appeared—running. Straight toward the garden. Matthew and Matteo didn’t exchange words. They didn’t need to.

They ran. The garden was vast, darkening as shadows stretched between hedges and sculptures. Searching it section by section would take forever and Matthew’s heart sank when his eyes locked onto the greenhouse standing at the far end of the property.

“Matthew,” Matteo said quickly, already moving, “you search the greenhouse. I’ll search the garden.”

Matthew nodded and sprinted.

The moment he stepped inside the greenhouse, heat and humidity wrapped around him like a suffocating hand. Grass brushed against his legs, leaves scratched at his sleeves.

“MAC!!” he shouted.

The deeper he went, the worse it got. Thick foliage. Towering plants. The air smelled damp and alive.

Where is he now? Hiding like a rat—this guy is really something!!

“ MAC ARTHUR, WHERE ARE YOU?!” Matthew yelled again, his voice echoing uselessly.

Then—

A sound....Faint.....Not an insect.....Not the wind....A voice. It wasn’t Mac’s voice nor a bodyguard’s or even one of his family.

But it was familiar. Unmistakably so. His blood ran cold.

Matthew followed the sound, each step heavier than the last, until he reached a narrow bridge leading to the other side of the greenhouse.

And that’s when he saw them. Two figures. One standing. One lying on the ground. The standing man was dragging the other by the foot.

Matthew’s vision tunneled.

The standing man is the shameless bastard he had been looking and the one on the ground—

“MAC?!”

Rage detonated. Matthew charged forward and shoved the man with everything he had, sending him crashing to the ground.

“Ahh” the man groaned.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU FUCKING DOING TO MY BROTHER?!” Matthew roared.

His gun was in his hand before he even realized he’d drawn it, the barrel aimed straight at the man’s head. He didn’t care nor hesitate. Didn’t fucking care that this man had saved his life before.

If he hurt Mac. Matthew would kill him here.

The man stared up at him, confusion flashing across his face, a grimace twisting his expression as pain caught up with him. What the? him again? Is this guy some kind of ghost who keeps following me wherever I go?

“Why don’t you fucking ask your stupid brother!!” the man snapped. He kicked Matthew’s gun hand hard. The impact jolted Matthew’s arm and the man tried to stand but Matthew didn’t let him.

He lunged, pinned him down, grabbed his collar, and drove his fist into the man’s face, snapping his head violently to the side.

Matthew raised his fist again but the man caught his wrist and threw a heavy punch on Matthew's face. The blow slammed into Matthew’s face, throwing him off instantly. His body hit the ground, stars bursting behind his eyes.

The punch from the Eclipse Club was nothing compared to this. His cheek went numb. What the fuck!! are his hands made of steel? Why are they so heavy?!

The world spun violently. Matthew forced himself up just in time to see the man standing again.

He staggered forward then suddenly froze. Mac was clinging to the man’s right leg like his life depended on it.

"...Huh?” Matthew’s brain short-circuited.

“Fuck!!” the man snapped, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Are you all a family of crazy people?”

Matthew stared. He couldn’t process it. He thought the man was attacking his brother but Mac Arthur was the one holding onto him like some kind of leech.

“Sir! Let go of me! I’m not Ken!” the man shouted. “What the hell are you talking about?!"

He tried to pull his leg free but Mac Arthur kept his tightened grip on him

“I don’t want to! I don’t want to!” Brother Mac yelled. “Until you tell me where Barbie is, I will never let go of you, Ken!!”

Reality crashed down on Matthew like a truck. His face burned. Embarrassment flooded him so hard he felt dizzy.

What the fuck is my brother doing now?! KEN? BARBIE?!

Matthew grabbed his temple, mortified beyond words. He had punched this man for nothing!!

“Hey!” the man snapped. “Get your brother off me! I still have work to do!”

Only then did Matthew truly look at him.

The man’s cap had fallen off, revealing his face completely. Soft features. Gentle eyes.

And his hair.... Sharp, structured and strikingly manly.

It really did resemble Ken’s hair. Matthew didn’t even watch Barbie movies but Mac Arthur owned a massive collection of dolls that everyone in the mansion knew exactly who Ken was.

The contrast was unreal. Matthew couldn’t stop staring. “So what?” the man snapped. “Are we just going to stare at each other? Don’t fucking blame me if I kick your brother.”

Matthew jolted back to himself. Fuck. Not again—why am I staring at him?! He rushed to Mac. “Fuck!! You’re so embarrassing! Let go!!”

He tried to pry Mac’s hands loose but Mac’s grip was terrifying.

“I DON’T WANT TO! I DON’T WANT TO!” Brother Mac screamed. “BRING BARBIE OUT FIRST!!

!”

The man hissed in pain. And then—

BANG!

A gunshot tore through the greenhouse. Matthew’s heart slammed violently against his ribs.

“What the fuck?!”

He hadn’t even finished dealing with this disaster and now there was another problem emerging

What kind of bullshit is this now?