Stepbrother’s Return | CH. 16

The luxury suite felt like a trap dressed up in marble and gold. Steam curled from the massive soaking tub where Leroy sat with his eyes half-closed, a masseuse working his shoulders while a manicurist buffed his nails. Attendants moved quietly around the room, laying out fresh clothes and pouring sparkling water like this was all perfectly normal.

I sat on the edge of the bed, sore and drained, when the door opened.

Sebastian walked in carrying a silver tray full of documents. He looked as polished as ever—ginger hair slicked back, designer glasses catching the light, French-tipped nails gleaming on the tray handles.

“Mr. Loilold asked me to fetch your boyfriend for a quick word before the next round of meetings,” he said, voice smooth and professional. His manicured fingers tapped the tray twice. A signal?

I stood up. “Just give me a second.”

While the attendants stayed focused on Leroy, Sebastian stepped in close and gently guided me toward another room. The door clicked shut behind us and the polished persona dropped instantly.

“We don’t have much time,” he whispered, setting the tray down hard. “My sister’s on Sub-Level 7. We get her out first, then come back for Leroy. I’ve already mapped the service corridors. We can slip down to the docks while the gala’s still going.”

I shook my head. “Not without Leroy. He comes with us.”

Sebastian let out a sharp breath, clearly frustrated. “Fine. But we move fast. I’ve got the master research files and the immunity serum formula. I also have crypto and gold stashed offshore. Enough to disappear if we pull this off. We free my sister, sabotage what we can on the way out, and get the hell off this island.”

We stepped back into the suite. Leroy was still in the tub, glassy-eyed and compliant. Under the excuse that “Mr. Loilold wants all three of you downstairs for a private word,” Sebastian smoothly dismissed the attendants with his usual haughty tone. Once they were gone, we helped Leroy out, wrapped him in a robe, and guided him. He moved slowly, murmuring dreamily about the stage lights, but he followed without resistance.

I nodded. “Let’s go.”

Sebastian tugged us out into the hallway and pressed a bookcase.

It swung open, revealing a tight service corridor like some kind of spy movie.

“What the hell?” I muttered.

“Service tunnels. They don’t like to know that servants exist unless they need to.”

We slipped inside, and the bookshelf closed behind us, cutting off all sound.

We ran down the stairs as fast as possible, descending in silence.

***

Reaching Sub-Level 7 was easier than it should’ve been. Sebastian had access codes to everything.

“Why didn’t you just grab your sister earlier if you had all these codes?” I asked.

“Because I didn’t have all the information I do now, you dolt. Without the immunity serum master files, trying to escape would be pointless.”

I scoffed. “Fine, but no need to insult me.”

“Sorry, I’m not good under pressure.”

The second the elevator doors opened, the cold, chemical smell of the place hit me hard. We stuck to the walls and slipped past two guards who were busy replaying my stage performance on a monitor, giggling. I scowled at them, unseen.

The glass cells came into view. Most were empty, but one near the end held a frail young woman slumped against the wall.

Sebastian’s voice cracked. “That’s her. Clara. My sister.”

She was a young woman who couldn’t be older than nineteen, with long straight red hair and dark purple circles under her green eyes.

He hit a code into a high-tech touchpad. The door slid open, and Sebastian rushed inside, pulling his sister into his arms.

Tears fell from his face as he said, “Clara, how I’ve messed you.”

The sight made my heart ache.

“Wh—Sebastian? What’s going on?” She croaked.

“There’s no time. We have to go!” He ordered.

Sebastian led us toward the main cologne distribution hub—the massive, climate-controlled warehouse where the final shipments for the “premium” clients were being loaded. If we could sabotage even one of the main distribution lines, it not only would stop a few buyers trying to mind control people, but it might distract Herold. It might even buy us enough time to reach the docks.

The hub was a cavernous space filled with rows of sleek, metallic crates stamped with the PeachiTech logo. Robotic arms moved in precise patterns, loading vials of the weaponized cologne into temperature-controlled containers. The air smelled sterile and sharp, like antiseptic mixed with that sickeningly familiar bourbon-cedar scent.

We slipped in through a side loading bay. Sebastian immediately headed for a control panel near one of the main conveyor belts, pulling a small drive from his pocket. “This should fry the central distribution of power until … It goes boom,” he whispered.

“Goes boom?” I asked for clarification.

“Blows the fuck up. Got it? So when I’m set, I’m going to open that door.” He gestured across the corridor. “It leads right to the dock, so we go that way and get out of here fast before this thing explodes.”

I nodded and positioned myself near the door, ready to play lookout.

That’s when the doors at the other end swung open.

Herald and Victor walked in together, flanked by two armed security guards.