Obsession

Merciful Hand

"Win, and I'll let you go."

The private estate was built against the mountainside, where endless peaks of deep emerald rolled into the distance. The lake shimmered with a pale, tranquil light, its shores dotted with luxury recreation: skiing, swimming, and golf to the west; racetracks and stables to the east. The banquet halls and hotels were nestled on a central island, accessible only by a ten-minute ferry ride across the water.

The waiter pushed open the heavy doors, and the sound of voices rushed out with the chill of the air conditioner, making Sienna shiver.

She stopped in the doorway, remaining perfectly composed.

"...The project approvals from the beginning of the year were indeed suppressed. That was all the Vice President's idea. The seven percent cut was, well, it was used to grease the wheels of the local officials," stammered a middle-aged man. He was the regional representative for Thorne Capital’s southern branch, though he clearly sensed he was about to become the former representative. He wiped cold sweat from his brow, his voice trembling. "That money, that money, I—"

"I don't particularly care about the money. And you don't need to pay back the fifty-million-dollar deficit."

The man froze. His terror turned into a frantic, desperate joy. "Mr. Thorne! If you're willing to give me a chance, sir, I promise I’ll—"

But his display of loyalty was snuffed out before it could even begin.

"I have no use for a traitor," Sebastian interrupted.

Sienna’s view was partially blocked, so she couldn't see Sebastian’s face. She only heard his voice—cold, low, and laced with a dark, brooding edge. "Keep that fifty million. Use it to pay for your lawyers for the rest of your life."

The man’s legs gave out.

When the leverage held against you is enough to bury you for decades, dignity is a luxury you can't afford. The man groveled like a common beggar, pleading for Sebastian to have a "merciful hand." As security surged forward, he practically knelt, sobbing. "Wait! Mr. Thorne! Please, just one chance! I know two other people in the South who are in contact with the Lane family..."

"Now that's interesting." Sebastian narrowed his eyes, tapping his finger lightly on the table. "Talk."

"It’s people in PR and Finance," the man gasped, terrified Sebastian would change his mind. "I’ll tell you everything. I have evidence. I have proof."

The lead assistant standing nearby shot him a flat look and reported calmly to Sebastian, "It’s Yao from PR and Zhong from Finance. They’ve already been dealt with."

Sebastian arched an eyebrow, offering a mocking sneer. "It seems he knows even less than you do. What value does he have left?"

The man was eventually dragged out of the room.

Sienna stepped aside to avoid the scuffle, watching the farce end before casting a glance inside.

Sebastian was leaning over a billiard table, a cigarette between his lips as he prepared a shot. His expression was distant and bored, the dark prayer beads on his wrist looking entirely out of place against the sheer violence of his aura. It was impossible to tell if he was too focused to notice her or if he was intentionally freezing her out.

He didn't acknowledge her.

And Sienna was not about to beg for his attention.

The lounge was filled with a constant hum of laughter and chatter. The guests acted as if the previous scene hadn't happened. Someone laughed, "Sitting around is boring. Let's place a bet? The winner gets that SSC Tuatara."

"You might as well just hand the keys over now. Jaxson’s date is a pro driver—ranked fourth in the AGF qualifiers. She could win this in her sleep."

Sienna had been standing there a beat too long, making her presence feel conspicuous in the crowded room.

A young man sitting near the center noticed her. He looked at a beautiful woman sitting close to Sebastian and laughed. "Don't just sit there like a statue. Don't you see we have a guest? Be a dear and make some room."

The woman beside him was well-trained and perfectly poised. She glanced at Sienna, showing no sign of resentment as she gracefully stood up.

Sienna didn't take the seat. She moved to the outer circle of the lounge, choosing a quiet, detached spot.

She was still wearing her haute couture from the fashion show—a gown of smoky, ethereal hues that looked like a Monet painting brought to life. Beneath the flowing silk lay a silhouette of haunting beauty and a grace that was elegant to the bone.

Several gazes in the room converged on her.

After the initial flash of awe, the men exchanged meaningful looks. They studied her like an object—with curiosity, disdain, or a practiced indifference that bordered on insulting.

Sienna felt a prickle of irritation, her eyes turning cold.

Sebastian chose that moment to turn his head, crushing out his half-finished cigarette. "Why are you sitting so far away?"

Sienna paused, meeting his gaze head-on. "I wouldn't want to ruin your mood, sir."

She offered a thin smile, her eyes shimmering with a sharp, vibrant light. "You’re having such a good time. If I were to force my way in, wouldn't that be... inconsiderate?"

The words were anything but considerate.

Yet her voice remained soft and melodic, her face a mask of harmless innocence.

The room went quiet for a heartbeat.

"You didn't seem too worried about being 'inconsiderate' when you were chatting it up with others," Sebastian sneered.

Sienna found his accusation baffling. She had no idea who "others" referred to.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes, his body leaning slowly against the edge of the billiard table. "Don't want to sit here?"

Sensing the shift in the air, someone let out a small, nervous cough.

Sienna didn't care. She leaned into the tension. "No. I don't."

"Then get down there." Sebastian’s posture was rakish and arrogant. He gripped a heavy glass, swirling the amber liquid as a dark, wicked smile touched his lips. "Win, and I'll let you go."

Sienna’s heart skipped a beat. She wasn't sure what he meant, and she hesitated.

The ice cubes rattled against the glass, the sound grinding at her nerves. It wasn't until she looked down at the racetrack below that her expression softened.

He was talking about racing. Just racing.

Sienna felt a wave of relief.

She couldn't be blamed for overthinking it. The people in this circle were born into power and were used to being entertained. Treating someone as a friend was the standard, but treating them as a toy for amusement often went past the point of decency.

Sienna had heard the rumors—the high-stakes games where things went too far. She remembered a story from before she met Sebastian: a group of heirs had made their dates lie on the asphalt with stacks of cash beside them. The driver who stopped closest to the girl won. It was a game of heartbeats and hollow bravado, where human life was a rounding error.

In truth, Sebastian had never pushed her that far. But in her subconscious, she knew novelty had an expiration date. With a man as mercurial as him, she always felt like his restraint wouldn't last forever.

The young man who had offered the seat saw Sienna’s hesitation. Thinking she was scared, he offered a half-hearted plea. "Maybe we should drop it, Sebastian. A girl shouldn't have to..."

Before he could finish, Sienna turned and walked out on her four-inch heels, her silk skirt swaying behind her.

The young man let out a low whistle.

He glanced at Sebastian’s face, then back at Sienna, his eyes filled with a new level of curiosity and intrigue.

The lounge served as the central observation deck, featuring a "starry sky" ceiling, professional audio, and broadcast screens. The three walls of one-way glass provided an unobstructed view of the racetrack and the stables.

Sienna changed into racing gear and pulled her hair into a high ponytail. She watched the countdown clock hit zero.

The cars on the grid surged forward like arrows.

The roar of the engines and the rush of wind tore through the muggy air. The G-force pressed Sienna into her seat. For the first two laps, the field was tight—straightaways, corners, acceleration—she didn't miss a beat.

But the track was more difficult than she’d expected.

The car in the fifth slot was clearly the pro driver she’d heard about. After two laps, the woman made a clean, aggressive move, taking the inside line and pulling several seconds ahead of Sienna.

Sienna wasn't a professional, but her skills were at a pro level. She was in the zone today. After navigating two steep grades, she used a technical maneuver to perfect her acceleration.

The gap was closing.

The driver in car 5 clearly didn't expect her to be this persistent. At the next sharp turn, she tried to box Sienna in.

She used her experience to "pinch" Sienna’s line.

Unfortunately, Sienna’s ankle wasn't fully healed. It twitched for a split second—a momentary lapse that sent her into a patch of standing water. Her tires lost their grip.

The red supercar nearly spun off the track.

The guests in the lounge gasped.

Sebastian’s brow furrowed. He stood up, his eyes fixed on the broadcast screen as a dark, brooding intensity radiated from him.

The guy who had brought the pro driver felt his heart drop. He glanced at Sebastian’s expression and knew he was in trouble. It was clear that no one cared about the prize anymore. Friction on the track was normal, but Sebastian looked like he was ready to kill someone over this particular "friction."

Before the man could offer an excuse, Sebastian had already stormed out of the room.

"What is she doing?! I didn't ask her to show off! I didn't need to win that car!" the man hissed at his own entourage, furious at his date's lack of awareness. "I specifically told her before the race—"

"You shouldn't have let her race against Sienna in the first place," the other young man interrupted. "Jaxson Miller made a few jokes to her at the cemetery and he’s been paying for it for a week. Let that be a lesson."

He patted his friend’s shoulder. "They’re having a domestic dispute. He’s just poking her for fun. You jumping in is a death wish."

On the track, Sienna relied on pure instinct and muscle memory to slow down and stabilize the car. She fought the steering wheel, hauling the car back from the edge of the barrier. The sheer speed and pressure left a metallic tang of blood in the back of her throat.

CRASH. A heavy impact sounded from behind.

Sienna didn't look back. The moment the car was stable, she felt a surge of reckless adrenaline. She slammed the gas pedal to the floor.

The needle on the speedometer blurred past 300 km/h. Sparks flew as the tires screamed against the asphalt.

Sebastian had taught her everything she knew about racing. Sebastian lived for the thrill, for the edge of danger. After years by his side, she had absorbed his methods and his madness. Once her competitive drive was triggered, she was just as reckless as he was.

The speed kept climbing, making the observers' hearts skip a beat.

Back in the lounge, people were bolting to their feet. "Is she insane?! She's going to kill herself!" "Shut up," someone hissed, nudging him. "Keep your voice down."

Sienna’s focus was absolute. As she hit the straightaway, she took advantage of the track position, cranking the wheel and pinning the throttle. Her car surged ahead, sliding past car 5.

She was a blur of red speed, clearing the path.

On the final lap, the pro driver tried to close the gap, but it was too late. The red car crossed the finish line with a razor-thin lead.

The car slowed and came to a stop past the line.

She’d won.

Sienna leaned back against the seat, her breathing ragged. The rush of blood and the adrenaline high managed to clear some of the hollow ache in her chest, only to replace it with a vast, empty silence.

The victory felt hollow. She suddenly lost all interest.

Before she could unbuckle, the door was yanked open. A hand clamped around her wrist and dragged her out of the driver's seat.

"Who told you to push it that hard?" Sebastian’s gaze was eerily still, but his eyes were filled with a cold, jagged fury. "Are you in a hurry to die?"

Sienna’s brain was light with a lack of oxygen. She leaned against his arm, practically falling into his chest. As she looked up, she caught a fleeting glimpse of emotion in his eyes.

He looked... terrified.

The realization stunned her, but it lasted only a second before vanishing. She didn't have time to confirm it—he was being too aggressive.

She regained her balance and pushed him away. "Weren't you the one using me for your own amusement? Is this not enough for you?"

It was pathetic. If he actually cared, why would he bring her here and put her on display?

Sienna’s temper flared, her expression turning cold.

Sebastian frowned, a look of growing impatience in his eyes. He caught her by the waist and lifted her effortlessly, pinning her against the hood of the car. "Sienna, let me show you what 'amusement' actually looks like."

Sienna’s brain stalled for a few seconds. She instinctively pulled her knees up, sensing the shift in his aura.

"Sebastian!"

The race had just ended. No matter how high-end the car was, the hood was still scorching hot.

"Are you an animal, Sebastian?!" Sienna snapped, her anger boiling over. "You’re out of your mind!"

Sebastian’s gaze raked over her from head to toe—blunt and insulting. He let out a low, dark snort, his voice a gravelly whisper that made her skin crawl. "Don't you have any new insults? It’s always the same two lines with you."

Sienna choked on her response.

The heat of the engine forced her to move. With nowhere else to go, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hooked her legs around his waist, clinging to him to stay off the hot metal.

"You’re a monster. A creep. You’re shameless," she hissed, her teeth gritted.

"And yet, here you are, throwing yourself into my arms," Sebastian said, his fingers catching her earlobe and giving it a slow, deliberate rub. His dark eyes remained calm and unreadable.

Sienna went quiet for a few seconds.

As her breathing slowed, she stared him down, her beauty taking on a sharp, devastating edge. "This is about what I said, isn't it? You’re obsessed with that one sentence."

The position was incredibly intimate—a total lack of space that felt like flirting, but the resentment and tension of the last few days was still a physical weight between them.

They were inches apart, yet they might as well have been on different planets.

"You’ve always known everything. I never could hide my little schemes from you. In the South, I was the one who did the dirty work; I was the target. If that isn't enough to satisfy you, then please, Sebastian... I’m begging you."

Sienna’s voice softened, but it was still laced with a biting edge. "Let me go. Let’s just call it even and walk away."

"Walk away?" Sebastian let out a short, sharp laugh. "You don't have the right to end this, Sienna. I’ve never had the patience to use my influence to trap a woman, but there’s a first time for everything."

He pressed his palm to her cheek, his voice turning gentle, as if he were whispering the sweetest of promises.

"For you, I’ll make an exception."