Chapter 18: The Lure

December 20th. 09:17 AM.

The Private Hospital, Absolute Isolation Ward, Basement Level Three.

This floor, a relic from the Cold War—originally designed as a fallout shelter—had been repurposed to accommodate only three types of clientele: heads of state, organized crime bosses, or women like Ava, whose presence could compel the hospital director to convene an emergency board meeting overnight. Two elevators serviced the floor: one requiring a facial scan, the other a key card. Three shifts of bodyguards maintained a 24-hour perimeter, surveillance was omnidirectional, and the access control system was secured by code personally written by Sebastian. Ava believed this area was impenetrable.

She had profoundly underestimated Landon Voss.

Landon Voss, 31 years old. His mother was an illegitimate daughter banished by the powerful Voss family; his father, the previous patriarch. The day he was born, his mother hemorrhaged to death during childbirth while his father was in the adjacent room attending to his legal wife. Before dying, his mother pressed the newborn into the arms of a nurse, leaving only a single, chilling instruction: "Tell him to live more ruthlessly than anyone else."

He had fulfilled her dying wish. At sixteen, he orchestrated his half-brother’s imprisonment. By twenty, he systematically eliminated the board veterans from his uncle’s generation, sending them, one by one, to the morgue. By twenty-five, he transformed the Voss family from old-money aristocracy into the sharpest, most feared blade on Wall Street. He trusted no one, believing only in the gun and the money in his hand.

Only with Ava, the unattainable Ava, did he first experience the urge to possess her. It wasn’t love; it was pure, unadulterated conquest. He needed this woman to kneel before him and personally admit her total defeat.

09:17:42 AM, Fire Control Room. A man in maintenance overalls inserted a USB drive into the server. Thirty seconds later, the fire alarm system across the entire building shrieked its warning.

The smoke detectors on basement level three simultaneously triggered, flashing crimson lights as the sprinkler system roared to life. The bodyguards, operating on the highest-level emergency protocol, immediately rushed toward the patient rooms to evacuate.

09:18:11 AM, Patient Room Door Opened. Summer was propped up in bed, receiving an IV drip. Her face was pale, but she was fully conscious.

She watched in horror as two of the bodyguards crumpled to the floor, their throats slit open. Blood spurted onto the pristine white walls like two blossoming red flowers. She didn't even have time to scream. A man in a white lab coat entered the room, and a syringe was plunged with practiced precision into her carotid artery. The sedative took effect within three seconds. As Summer collapsed, the last thing she heard was Landon’s deep, satisfied laughter through the man’s earpiece: “Tell Miss Ava, the game has begun.”

09:18:39 AM, Fire Escape. The man quickly stuffed Summer into a hidden compartment beneath a medical gurney, wheeling it onto the freight elevator down to sub-level four.

A vehicle disguised as an ambulance was waiting there. The moment the doors slammed shut, the surveillance feed for that section of the corridor went black for exactly five seconds. When the feed returned, the hallway was empty. Only a pool of blood remained on the floor, and Summer’s discarded sunflower hairpin, a tiny golden marker left behind.

---

December 20th. 09:40 AM. Ava had just stepped into the Rosier Holdings 88th-floor conference room when her phone vibrated.

An unknown number had sent a video: Summer was tied to a metal pillar in a derelict warehouse, blood seeping through the bandages on her wrist, her mouth sealed with duct tape, but her eyes blazing with defiant clarity. In the background, Landon was seated in a leather chair, impeccably dressed in a suit, a cigarette held between his fingers. He smiled like an elegant demon. His voice was deep, husky, and saturated with the lethargic satisfaction of a predator.

“Little flower, I’ve borrowed your pet. Midnight tonight, the abandoned dockyard. Come alone.”

“You can bring Sebastian if you like. I don’t mind collecting an extra corpse. Oh, and a word of warning. Don’t call the police. Or she will die a very messy death first.”

The video cut out. Ava’s fingers instantly turned ice cold. She looked up at Sebastian, her voice brittle as cracking ice. “He has Summer.”

Sebastian’s silver-gray eyes went dark, his voice a low, fierce growl. “I’m going.”

Ava shook her head, her eyes alight with an undeniable, self-destructive madness. “No. I’m going. You, wait for me in the dark.”

She turned to leave. Sebastian grabbed her wrist, his grip so heavy it felt close to shattering bone. “Ava, it’s a trap.”

Ava turned back, tears welling in her eyes, but she managed a terrifying smile. “I know. But I can’t let her die.”

Sebastian was silent for three agonizing seconds. Finally, he released her hand, his voice a strained, trembling whisper. “Fine. But you must promise me one thing.”

“You will come back alive.”

Ava stood on her toes, pressing a quick, fierce kiss to his throbbing throat. Her voice was a mere sigh. “I’ll try.”

---

December 20th. 11:40 PM.

The abandoned dockyard. The snow fell in shredded, icy sheets, the air frigid and unforgiving.

Ava drove alone. Her trench coat was open, her hands tucked into her pockets, her long hair plastered to her face by the wet snow. She walked into the vast, cavernous warehouse. Landon was seated at the center, and behind him stood fifty heavily armed mercenaries.

They were equipped with everything: heavy machine guns, sniper rifles, thermal imaging devices, and tactical drones. Summer was tied to a central iron pillar, the bandages on her wrist soaked through with fresh blood, yet she stubbornly lifted her head and offered Ava a weak, defiant smile.

Landon rose slowly, applauding in a slow, theatrical manner. His voice was thick with satisfaction. “Little flower, you are more obedient than I expected.”

Ava ignored Summer, keeping her eyes fixed solely on Landon. Her voice was frighteningly calm. “Release her. I will go with you.”

Landon chuckled, a husky, dry sound. “Very well. But first, I must inspect the goods.”

He raised his hand. Ten mercenaries rushed forward, pinning Ava to the dirty floor, a rifle muzzle pressed hard against the back of her head. Landon walked up to her, squatting down. His fingers lifted her chin, his voice dropping to a seductive, low murmur. “Search her.”

Her handgun, her dagger, a pen knife, even the small hairpins—everything was systematically stripped from her and thrown onto the ground. Ava didn't resist. She only stared at him, her eyes filled with an unconcealed, burning hatred. Landon kissed the corner of her cold lips, his voice soft as a lover’s. “Good girl. Tonight, you belong to me.”

He lifted his hand. The mercenaries roughly dragged Summer aside, pressing a gun barrel to her temple. Landon looked back at Ava, his smile pure cruelty. “Now, kneel.”

“Call me Master. And I will let her walk free.”

Ava’s fingers trembled, but she dropped to her knees. Her voice was a faint, broken sigh of submission. “Master.”

Landon threw his head back and laughed, his eyes glittering with triumphant dominance. He reached out to stroke her face.

The next second, the world outside the warehouse exploded.

BOOM! The side wall was ripped apart by a massive detonation. Sebastian and his team charged through the fire and smoke. But Landon was already prepared. Three layers of steel mesh slammed down from the ceiling, instantly trapping Sebastian's advance team at the entrance. Simultaneously, poison gas canisters rolled out. Sebastian’s men were trapped in the toxic cloud. Sebastian ripped off a strip of his jacket to cover his mouth and nose, but he was a fraction too slow.

He collapsed to his knees, his silver-gray eyes blazing with alarming redness.

Landon snatched Ava, his fingers clamping around her neck, forcing the gun barrel against her temple. His voice was low, laced with vicious finality. “Sebastian Rosier, if you move one inch, I will blow her brains out.”

Sebastian looked up, the madness in his eyes unveiled. His voice was hoarse, desperate. “Let her go.”

Landon laughed like a lunatic. “I will. But you first cripple yourself. Then, I release her.”

Ava’s tears fell, but she smiled, her voice a whispered plea. “Brother… don’t listen to him…”

Landon pressed the muzzle harder against her temple. “Choose.”

Sebastian was silent for three heart-stopping seconds. He threw his gun to the ground. Then, he raised his left hand and aimed his right arm at his own wrist.

Ava’s eyes widened in horror. “No!”

The gunshot ripped through the air. Blood sprayed onto the white snow, blooming like a devastating red flower. Sebastian’s left hand was a mangled mess, but he didn't make a sound. He looked up at Landon, his voice terrifyingly calm. “Now, let her go.”

Landon’s laughter intensified, becoming utterly unhinged. “Very good. But I’ve changed my mind. I want both of you. You’re staying here.”

He pulled the trigger. The bullet tore past Ava’s cheek, taking a strip of flesh with it. Ava didn't cry. She only looked back at Sebastian, her voice a soft, broken whisper. “Brother… I gambled and lost again.”

Sebastian stared at her blood-streaked profile, and a hairline fracture finally appeared in the cold composure of his silver-gray eyes. He spoke in a low murmur, a sound only she could hear. “You didn’t lose. It’s just not my turn to play yet.”

The snow fell faster. The warehouse was thick with the stench of blood and gunpowder. Landon dragged Ava deeper into the warehouse, his hands locked around her neck. She looked back at Sebastian one last time, her eyes filled with aching pity and absolute dependence.

She knew. This round, she had lost completely.

But she also knew that Sebastian’s true madness was only just beginning.