Submitting to my Ex Uncle-Chapter 242

Dominic stood by the window of the suite, with one hand resting on the marble counter, the other clutching his phone. The city stretched beneath him, glittering, sleeping, and unaware of whatvjust happened.

The faint hum of traffic was the only sound until his phone buzzed once, short and urgent.

He answered immediately.

"Sir," a man’s voice said on the other end. "We lost contact with Rodger’s tracker. The car—"

Dominic’s eyes narrowed when he heard Rodger. "What about the car?"

"There was... an explosion. Near the coast road. The feed cut out thirty seconds before we could respond."

He didn’t speak for a full heartbeat. The silence on his end made the man’s breathing stutter.

Then, softly, and almost too calmly, Dominic said, "Track their phones. Do everything you can. Celeste is missing. My wife is missing."

The man swallowed audibly. "Yes, sir."

The call ended.

Dominic’s reflection stared back at him from the glass wall, composed, and unreadable. The air around him had changed.

His pulse was a steady throb under his skin. His jaw tightened with every breath. He grabbed his keys from the counter, slipped on his jacket, and left without a word.

By the time his car reached the coast, the sky was a bruised blue.

The smell of fuel and smoke hit him before he even stepped out. The sound of waves tried to cover the chaos, but it couldn’t.

"Sir!" One of his men ran toward him. "We’ve already contained the scene—"

Dominic didn’t stop to listen. He walked past the yellow tape, past the wreckage, until the heat reached him. The car was nothing more than twisted metal and burning rubber. Black smoke coiled upward.

The world around him blurred.

He heard nothing. Only the crackle of fire and the pounding of his own heart. He only stopped when he saw something glinting faintly in the sand near the flames.

A small silver bracelet glistened.

He crouched slowly, his fingers closing around it. The metal was still warm, half-bent, and streaked with soot.

This was Celeste’s.

He stared at it for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then his hand tightened around it until his knuckles turned white.

"She was here," he said quietly.

His voice was low, almost lost under the sound of the fire. The men nearest to him froze when they heard it.

He rose to his full height and turned toward his team. "Find her. Now. Every second counts."

"Yes, sir."

Dominic didn’t move for a long time. The flames hissed and crackled around the twisted wreck, the reflection of firelight burning against his eyes. The bracelet was cold now, pressed into his palm like a brand.

Every muscle in his body was tight. He was trembling, but not breaking. Not yet. He waited.

"Sir, the blast radius was small," one of the men reported carefully. "Someone wanted the car to burn, not to kill. They were taken alive."

Dominic’s gaze flicked toward him, sharp, and calculating. The words didn’t soothe him. They cut deeper. Because that meant whoever had done this wanted her.

His voice, when it came, was a quiet blade.

"Start from the cliff edge and sweep outward. I want every footprint, and every tire mark. Every drone should be out in the sky within five minutes. If they’re breathing, I’ll find them."

The men scattered immediately.

Dominic stood where he was. The night air was thick with smoke and salt. His heartbeat had gone from a thrum to a low, aching drum in his ears. He had lived through betrayals, wars, and power games, but this was different. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

This was Celeste.

He shouldn’t have let her leave. This was all his fault. He didn’t wait for reports.

By the time the first drone lifted off, Dominic was already behind the wheel of his car. He has spent his life holding the world together by willpower alone. But this wasn’t the world. This was his world.

The moment he reached his pent house, the security room came alive. Screens flickered on from every angle, and radios crackled. Dozens of people moved at once, but every eye flicked toward him the moment he entered.

Rodger was still unconscious. The medic pressed ice against his head, whispering orders.

Dominic didn’t speak until he stood right beside him.

"Wake him."

"Sir, he’s suffered a concussion—"

"I said wake him." He ordered calmly. He sounded oddly calm.

The medic hesitated, then nodded quickly. Within seconds, Rodger groaned, his eyelids fluttering. He blinked up at Dominic, dazed and afraid.

"Sir...?"

"What happened?"

Rodger’s voice came out rough, and dry. "I—I parked by the coast. Celeste wanted to walk with Amara. Everything was fine. Then, there was fire. I managed to block them from the debris, before someone hit me from behind."

Dominic’s jaw flexed once. "You didn’t see who?"

"No. Just a shadow."

Rodger’s voice broke. "I tried—"

Dominic pat Rodger’s shoulder firmly. "I know you did."

He straightened, and turned toward his men. "Get him stable. And double security around the compound. Whoever did this isn’t finished. We know who."

"Yes, sir."

Dominic walked into the next room, and stood before a wall of monitors. Live feeds from across the coast flickered with grainy footage, heat maps, and GPS trails. He leaned forward, his eyes tracking every movement with inhuman focus.

"Two phones went dark," his tech said quietly. "Celeste’s and Amara’s. The signal died twenty minutes apart."

Dominic’s voice came low. "Twenty minutes apart?" His heart clenched. He didn’t want anything to scare her, and he doubted she wouldn’t be scared.

"Yes, sir."

He processed that in silence. That meant they were being moved separately. It wasn’t random. It was deliberate.

"Show me the last frame before blackout."

The tech froze the image on screen. It was a dark van, with tinted windows, pulling out from the lower road.

Dominic’s eyes sharpened. "License plate?"

"Fake. But the model’s registered under one of Carlos’s shell companies."

The air in the room thickened.

Carlos. Now, it was certain. This wasn’t just one of his random enemies.

Dominic straightened. He clenched and unclenched his fist. "Prepare a convoy."

"Sir, if this is Carlos—"

"I said prepare it."

"Yes, sir."

He opened his palm. The bracelet sat there, small and bent. Celeste’s laughter flashed across his mind, and her teasing tone when she’d said, "You pick jewelry like you’re trying to chain me to you."

And his answer was, "Maybe I am."

The memory hit like a blade twisting in his chest.

Dominic closed his hand around the bracelet again, his throat tightening. The smell of smoke still clung to it.

He pressed his forehead briefly against his fist, breathing hard, and trying to control the rage. If he wants her alive, he needs to keep anger so far away.