Chapter 2 Chapter 2

SHANE

I turned off the shower and tipped my head to the side, slicking my hair backwards. Then I slowly stepped in front of the mirror and glared back at my reflection.

I hated what I saw… a broken man.

A broken man who has fallen from his high grace. A godlike man who had nearly pathetically died in the hands of his own mere creation.

I had always prided myself on being unstoppable, powerful and feared. But what happened with Jones has shattered every tiny bit of that heavenly honor I had.

My first mistake was underestimating him. I never thought he would grow this amount of resentment for me, simply for not reciprocating his useless love.

Every time I thought about it, I wondered how I couldn't see it. I guess it was because of Alicia’s pregnancy and the fact that I was finally going to be a father that overwhelmed me greatly with immense joy, causing me to overlook him, stupidly oblivious of the things he was orchestrating.

I let out a soft sigh, pressing my eyes shut.

Water dripped from my hair onto my shoulders. My hair has grown so thick and long now, stopping at my shoulders in the course of these last ten months, and so has my beard.

I swore to never cut my hair or shave my beard until I found him. Oh, and I will find him. That's an absolute certainty.

I reached out, grabbed the towel from the rack and started to wipe myself with it, brushing it over the persistent scars on my arm, ribs, stomach and every other place that little bitch stabbed me.

I stepped out of the bathroom and walked over to the wardrobe, then slid it open. From the rack, I pulled out a dark blue shirt and slid into it, tucking it into the dark pants that fitted my frame.

I got into my shoes, picked up the rubber band from the dressing table, gathered my long hair and tied it at the back of my head in a ponytail.

My suitcase sat on the shelf. I walked over and wrapped my hand around the handle, then exited the room, making my way downstairs.

The whiff of cheese and bacon drifted down my nostrils as I entered the dining room. I halted on the archway, watching the Filipino houseboy I employed set the table.

I had every staff member in the house fired; the head maid, the butler, the maids, the gardener… everyone. The only reason I let them stay in this estate for so long was because of Alicia. Now that Alicia's gone, there's no use in keeping them employed.

And Alicia… the mere thought of her makes my blood boil. She dared to get rid of my precious child without my permission, after all I put up with her just to get her pregnant.

She would have been dead long ago had it not been for my… “problems.” Yes, I've been having these “problems” since my near-death experience.

After spending a long, tediously tormenting two months in a fucking sick bed, I finally recovered from the damage sustained, filled with unfathomable rage that needed relieving.

I wanted to kill.

Needed to kill.

To feel what it means to be powerful again. To hear those pathetic gurgling sounds of pleas that were music to my ears. To watch their faces twist with sweet agonizing pain.

Ha.

But I couldn't even weld a knife, let alone stab. I tried, over and over, but all my attempts were futile, and I always ended up looking like a miserable fool in front of my preys.

Which is all the reason why I need to find that little bitch. Finding him and killing him ends all this intolerable misery.

It makes me feel pathetic and weak. And I detest feeling this way more than anything in the world.

The Filipino houseboy gave a little flinch when he saw me. “Oh… M-Mr Blackwood.” His voice trembled a bit, scared and polite. “G-good morning. I-I didn't see you there.”

I didn't utter a word. I slowly walked over to the table, careful not to irritate my left leg. Then I sat down, picked up the cutlery and started to eat.

The houseboy gave me a little bow before he disappeared from the room.

Vrrrr! Vrrrr!

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I reached inside and pulled it out, glaring at the caller. I slid the bar to the green, put it on the loudspeaker and tossed it on the table, then resumed eating.

“Good morning, sir.” His voice came on the line.

You probably know him. That was Parker Jace, my right-hand man, whom I left in charge of handling things. I give him the orders, he relays them to my men, and they act on them.

In the past, he used to call to give reports on Alicia. Now, he calls to give reports on the search for Jones.

“You'd better have good news for me this time.” I groaned, voice low and firm.

“Well…” A pause. I heard him gulp. “I'm afraid to inform you that the report is still the same, sir. We still haven't found him.”

I pressed my eyes shut and let out a deep, heavy breath, trying to calm the rage simmering just beneath my chest. “Answer me this, Jace, are you useless?”

Another pause. “I… I'd like to think not, sir.”

“Then, do you want to get replaced?”

“No! No, sir!” He answered sharply, catching his breath. “Definitely not!”

“I pay you enough.” I muttered through gritted teeth. “You have all the resources you need to find that little bastard, but for the past ten months, all I've been getting from you is disappointment. Find me Henry Jones!”

Another long pause. I could hear his deep, ragged breathing through the line. “Permission to say something, sir?”

“What?”

Another hesitant pause, “I know I may be overstepping my boundaries here by saying this, but maybe you should stop?”

“What?!”

He caught his breath sharply, then started to speak again. “I-I-I'm sorry! I'm really sorry! I know I shouldn't have said anything, but I felt I had to say it. I mean, it's been ten months, sir. Ten months. The longest it has ever taken you to find someone is four or five, maximum. Even with all the money Ms Alicia's father put in hiding her, it took less than three months to find her. Maybe Henry Jones killed and threw himself in a ditch somewhere, and that's why…”

“Do I look like I give the slightest fuck if he's dead and in a ditch somewhere?” I growled, deep voice echoing through the room. “Find him. Dead or alive. I don't fucking care! Just find him! Got it?!”

“Y-y-yes, sir.”

“Good.”