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Alfred.

"I don't care about politics anymore!" Sebastian cut him off. "I care about him!"

He gestured wildly toward me, his eyes burning with an intensity that was almost frightening to witness. This was a man on the edge, willing to sacrifice everything he had worked for.

"Sebastian," I called out, hoping to reach whatever rationality remained in him. "This is madness. You're throwing away everything you've built."

"It means nothing without you," he replied simply, and despite everything, I felt a treacherous flutter in my chest at his words.

"Are you completely insane? You need to unwrap my hands right now, Sebastian!" I bawled at him with every ounce of authority I could muster, despite my compromised position. "This has gone far enough!"

I struggled against my bindings with renewed vigor, knowing that help was literally just outside the gates. If I could just get downstairs somehow, this nightmare would end.

"Please, Sebastian," I tried again, softening my tone. "Think about what you're doing. This isn't you—not the real you. The Sebastian I knew was ambitious and proud of what he'd accomplished. He wouldn't throw it all away like this."

"Maybe you never knew the real me," he replied quietly, echoing my earlier thought. "Maybe this is who I've always been underneath it all—someone who would burn down the world to keep you."

The terrifying thing was, I believed him. The look in his eyes told me he was entirely serious—he would sacrifice everything, risk imprisonment, destroy his career, all to keep me with him.

"Is that what love means to you?" I asked. "Possession at any cost?"

He didn't answer, but his silence was answer enough.

"No! I absolutely refuse to release you! I love you so much, more than anything or anyone in this world! I simply can't let you go, not again! Please, please give me just one more chance, Alfred, I'm begging you!" Sebastian's voice cracked with raw emotion as he clutched desperately at his chest, physically grasping his shirt as if trying to hold his breaking heart inside his body.

He began shaking his head frantically from right to left in a continuous gesture of denial, as if by refusing to accept reality he could somehow change it. I could clearly see the unshed tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. The proud, powerful Sebastian Evans, reduced to this—a man on the verge of tears, pleading for another chance.

Even his usually commanding look at me was completely different now—transformed into the desperate expression of someone drowning and watching their last hope of rescue drift away. He reminded me of a frightened child grabbing frantically at his mother's jacket, terrified of being left alone in a crowd of strangers.

"Sebastian," I said gently, surprised by my own compassion despite everything. "Listen to me. This isn't love. This is fear. Love doesn't hold on so tightly that it crushes what it's trying to keep."

"Then tell me what to do," he whispered. "Tell me how to make this right."

I could see the genuine pain in his eyes, and for a moment, I glimpsed the Sebastian I had fallen in love with—vulnerable, real, stripped of his masks and pretenses.

"Listen to me carefully," I tried explaining to Sebastian as reasonably and calmly as I could manage under the circumstances. "This incredibly dangerous situation will put your hard-earned reputation on an extremely risky, potentially catastrophic edge. You've worked your entire life to reach this position, and you're about to lose absolutely everything you've built over the years. Please, you need to release me right now while there's still time to salvage something from this mess."

I was genuinely concerned for him despite my own predicament. Behind my anger and fear was the painful truth that I just couldn't voice aloud at this critical moment—I still cared deeply about what happened to him, still wanted to protect him, even from himself.

"We can explain this away somehow," I continued urgently. "Tell them it was a misunderstanding, a joke that went too far. But you have to let me go downstairs and talk to them myself, unharmed and unrestrained."

"And then you'll leave with him," Sebastian said flatly. "You'll go back to France with Jack and I'll never see you again."

The raw vulnerability in his voice nearly broke my resolve. For a moment, I almost told him the truth—that Jack was just a friend, that there was nothing romantic between us, that I had never stopped loving him despite everything. But I held back, knowing that his current state was too unstable for such revelations.

"Sebastian, please," was all I could manage to say.

"No, absolutely never," Sebastian replied with grim finality. "I would genuinely prefer they physically take you from my hands by force and throw me in prison for the rest of my life, but I will not willingly release you until I take my very last breath on this earth!"

He collapsed heavily onto a nearby chair and sank his head despondently between his elbows, the picture of complete defeat even as he refused to yield. This wasn't the powerful, confident mayor I remembered—this was a broken man at the end of his rope, willing to destroy himself rather than lose what he believed was his last chance at happiness.

"This isn't what I wanted," he muttered, almost to himself. "Not how I imagined our reunion."

"What did you imagine?" I asked, genuinely curious despite everything.

"That you'd listen," he said quietly. "That I'd explain everything properly, and you'd understand why I did what I did. That we'd have a chance to start over."

"We can still have that conversation," I offered cautiously. "But not like this. Not with me tied up and the police at the door."

He looked up, a flicker of hope in his eyes that died almost immediately. "You're just saying that to get free."

"Maybe," I admitted. "But maybe not."

"F*ck you and your stubborn pride!" I suddenly bawled at Sebastian, my patience finally evaporating completely. "Don't you see there's no time left for this nonsense? The longer we argue, the worse this gets for everyone involved!"

There was absolutely no time remaining to convince him through gentle reasoning; I had to somehow force his hand before this situation spiraled even further out of control. The presence of reporters outside meant this was already becoming a public spectacle that could destroy his career regardless of what happened next.

"Sir, please," Matthews interjected again, clearly growing increasingly nervous about the developing situation downstairs. "Mr. Alfred is right. We need to resolve this quickly before it escalates further."

"The reporters are live-streaming," another security officer added from the hallway. "It's already on social media."

Sebastian remained unmoved, his expression hardening into the stubborn mask I recognized all too well from our past disagreements. Once Sebastian Evans made up his mind, moving him was like trying to shift a mountain with your bare hands.

"I said no," he repeated firmly. "And that's final."

"Sir, with all due respect, I genuinely believe Mr. Alfred's suggestion represents the best available option to effectively resolve this issue right now," Matthews persisted bravely, clearly understanding the gravity of the situation better than his employer. "We truly don't have any more time for deliberation. Please allow me to release him so he can address the authorities himself."

The security man's rational approach was admirable, especially considering he was essentially contradicting his boss's direct orders—something that couldn't be easy given Sebastian's notorious temper and vindictive streak toward those who defied him.

"Your career is on the line too, Matthews," Sebastian reminded him coldly. "Remember who signs your paychecks."

"I'm aware, sir," Matthews replied steadily. "But I believe I'm serving your best interests by speaking truthfully now."

Sebastian spun his head toward his loyal employee, an angry, frustrated groan escaping his lips. The conflict playing out on his face was plain to see—he knew, logically, that Matthews and I were right, but his emotions were too powerful to allow reason to prevail.

"No means no," he insisted stubbornly. "I won't change my mind."

I realized then that conventional arguments wouldn't work—I needed something drastic to break through his obsessive determination. A desperate situation called for an equally desperate measure.

"Then I will have no choice but to kill myself through starvation," I threatened Sebastian with quiet intensity. "I absolutely won't eat or drink anything at all until I eventually die. Is that what you want? To watch me slowly waste away?"

It was a dramatic threat, perhaps even a manipulative one, but I was completely out of options at this point. Sebastian could lose everything he had worked for in just the snap of a finger because of his blind, obsessive love and stubborn refusal to see reason.

"You wouldn't," he challenged, but I could see the flicker of fear in his eyes.

"Try me," I replied steadily, holding his gaze. "I'd rather die than be your prisoner for the rest of my life."

My words hit home—I could see the exact moment when he realized I was serious, that his actions had pushed me to this extreme. Something shifted in his expression, a crack in his determined facade.

"Alfred, please," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Don't say that. Never say that."

"No, please, I'm begging you—you can't possibly do something so terrible to me!" Sebastian cried out in genuine distress. He immediately stood up and rushed to my side, sitting down carefully on the edge of the bed and tenderly touching my cheeks and neck with surprising gentleness.

His fingers trembled slightly against my skin as he gazed at me with such lovely, deep, emotional looks that I imagined could easily melt the hardest stone. The raw vulnerability in his expression made my heart ache despite everything that had happened between us.