20hrs since Oliver got abducted

Garcia's Estate,

Seville, Spain

O L L I E

I gripped the doorknob so tight in an attempt to support my whole body but my knees turned into jelly as I drop into the middle of the room. What the hell?

The room is full of dad's pictures. Paintings were hung onto the wall from the day of his birth and stopped in his 20s. Frames were scattered all over. There were toys, poster collections, school materials, painting materials, and a huge floor-to-ceiling shelf was installed. The books on the shelf ranged from science, accountancy, and business management to astronomy, the social sciences, and the humanities. A small section was dedicated to his comic book collections.

I swallowed the lodge in my throat and wiped the tears that continued to roll down my cheeks. Dad. This is his room. His home. I remember... one section of our library has the same collection of books. Even his painting materials that we once used together... the brand is the same. Dad said it was his favorite; he had to order it abroad.

There was a very expensive chandelier hanging in the center of the room and everything inside was not dusty. It is well-maintained. Someone has been taking care of this room. The bed was huge, covered in black silk sheets against the white fluffy pillows. The balcony was open, and when I tried to stand up, I was amazed. This room has the best view of the entire estate.

This is even larger than Stefan's. There was an enormous maze, a wishing fountain in the middle. On the left of the maze is a lake surrounded by trees and wildflowers. The estate is like a huge forest, touched and graced by nature. Every corner in this room was designed with Dad's comfort in mind. I walked towards the bed and sat, then rubbed the silky sheets. Floods of memories with Dad came pouring into my mind like an avalanche.

Why am I here? What is happening? Isn't Dad an orphan? Who kidnapped me? Do they want the empire as well? That doesn't make any sense. People with eyes can see the elegance and luxury of this room alone.

The entire estate is so huge. Anyone can tell that the owner is extremely wealthy. They don't need my inheritance. I gripped the sides of my head when it started to hurt. I squeezed my eyes shut and breathed heavily.

Too much information was bombarding my system so I poured all of my feelings through my sobs. I cried so hard. I cried helplessly and pulled my legs up, then hugged them and rested my head on top of my knees. I don't know what's happening anymore. I was having the best time of my life with Stefan, but then I was whisked away into an unknown country.

Help me. Please. Anyone. I don't want to be in an unfamiliar place. I want my daddy.

****

I woke up because of a commotion; of someone's loud voice echoing throughout the corridor. My eyes shot open and winced when I felt the familiar sting. Only that, it hurts more now without Stefan to ease the puffiness.

I scanned the whole room and I was brought back to reality. It was not a dream. My eyes burned again when I realized that Stefan is not here, and my stinging eyes are proof of that. My sweet daddy has always made sure to put a warm towel around my eyes, so they would not swell and become puffy the next morning.

I never got to tell him how much I appreciate those little things he did for me. A sharp pain crossed my chest when I realized that I may never get to express my thanks to him again. That I may never get to see him again.

I sat up and clutched my chest when my breathing becomes heavier, my sobs coming out as shallow gasps, the pain in my chest traveling to all my nerve endings. My eyes become blurry from tears, my ears ringing from the commotion outside, and my head throbbing and pulsing.

"Didn't I tell you not to let him out of the room? What if something happens to him?!"

"Please forgive us, master! We did not want to treat him like a prisoner..."

"Find him! I don't want him to hurt himself! I won't be able to... why is this room open? Didn't I tell you to keep this room locked-- Oliver!"

"Help... breathe. I n-need t-to... breathe." I was able to muster despite the shallow pants. If Stefan was here, he would have already given me my medicine and my POC. I wonder, does he carry my meds around? After all, he can easily produce them whenever I need them.

I heard frantic footsteps all over the room; my vision was blurry from lack of oxygen. The things that the stranger in front of me was saying sounded so distant. I need my daddy. Get me my daddy.

D O N F E L I P E

"Hurry! Get me the POC!" I commanded frantically, my heart pounding so loudly as my beloved grandson sagged against my hold, his breathing faint, and tears streaming like an open dam.

I have never felt like this. I have never felt fear and panic. Never. Not even when I was at death's door. Not when my enemy stabbed me multiple times and almost killed me. Never.

The image of my son bloody and his skull almost crushed as he embraced his wife protectively, both of them were not able to survive the crash, as I extract them from the crushed vehicle, resurfaced. Tears started to form in my eyes as the most painful memory that haunts my day and night flashed again.

I stared down at Oliver and gathered him in my arms. "No, don't sleep, my boy. Do you hear me? You can't sleep. I won't be able to forgive myself if something happened to you. Your abuelito loves you so." I bit my lower lip and begged as I caressed his cheeks and shakily pressed my lips on his forehead.

Adrian burst into the room with our family doctor on his heels. Drake Silva, an impressive doctor in his 30s, approached me and bowed slightly. "Don, please lay Senorito Oliver slowly on the bed." I did what he asked and he immediately slipped the oxygen mask and POC.

I let him do all the work, my eyes fixed on Oliver, pale and weak. I rubbed my face and took a deep breath. I was in my study when the maidservant informed me that Oliver was missing.

I immediately deployed my men all around the estate and checked the footage, but I never expected him to be in Izen's room. The room where I spent most of my time reminiscing and wallowing in regrets. I never installed security cameras on the corridor surrounding that room because it is a private area for me.

I felt a momentary relief when I noticed the door to Izen's room open, Oliver crouched on the bed, only to realize that he was experiencing a severe episode of a panic attack. Adrian called my attention and pulled a chair for me. "Don, please, calm yourself. Senorito Oliver will be alright," he assured me and glanced at Oliver.

By then, Drake was able to put an IV drip on Oliver, the POC was replaced by an oxygen tank that Drake asked his nurses to roll inside. After Oliver was finally settled, Drake approached me.

"He has finally calmed down. Please, as much as possible, don't let him get stressed. It is affecting his physical and mental health. Fortunately, based on my diagnosis, a very wise doctor has been taking care of him. He won't be able to survive this far if he was not undergoing therapy," Drake informed me and I worriedly gazed at my grandson, then back to Drake.

"What should I do? I don't want him to suffer any longer. He has had enough of that."

"You know the answer to that, Don Felipe. Make him happy. I won't forgive you if you hurt him because of your selfishness. Izen has suffered enough," he spat bitterly, the fury in his eyes was very evident.

Adrian was about to retaliate but I grabbed his wrist and shook my head. Adrian gritted his teeth and just glared at Drake. "I promise. I won't make the same mistake."

Drake scoffed and loosened his tie. "I'll believe it when I see it. Don't hesitate to call me if something happens; I'll come running for Oliver. It's the least I can do for Izen," he lowered his head slightly and smirked at Adrian who was growling like an offended prey. "Also, rein your dog. Maybe, put a chain 'round his neck. Then again, it would suit him." Drake's eyes turned dark and raked a bold stare on Adrian's body, the man beside me about to lose his wits.

"Drake. Stop provoking him." Drake glanced at me and shook his head. Then in one fluid motion, swooped Adrian by the neck and kissed the man torridly before leaving Adrian shocked and frozen.

"Thanks for the treat, boy." Drake stepped out of the room with a hum and a face-splitting grin. Adrian's face went red... with fury.

"Que cabron!" Adrian turned to me and politely bowed. "I will kill that son-of-a-bitch, Don. Wish me luck." Before I can protest, Adrian was on his way to Drake.

I heaved a deep sigh and massaged my temples. I called George, the head of my security, who was guarding the door. "Yes, Don?"

"Make sure that they keep it in their bedroom. I don't want to rebuild the east wing. Again."

George's lip twitched into a small smile. "That couple has always been a pain in your ass."

I chuckled softly. "Yeah, a pain in my ass that is worth tolerating. Just make sure that nothing explodes or gets destroyed again. I have been waiting for this day. I don't want my grandson scared." I glanced at Oliver who was sleeping peacefully.

"The little master has grown up, Don," George gazed at Oliver fondly.

Even if I wasn't able to be with Oliver as he grew up, out of respect for my son, I was still able to watch him from the sidelines. The main regret I had was agreeing to Izen's request; that I would never interfere with his plans.

"I should've saved him before he got hurt, George. My conscience will never let me rest for letting my only grandson suffer when I can do something to save him."

"His life would be in a graver situation if you had approached him after Izen and Mara passed away. We were also busy fighting on the frontlines. Who would have thought that those fucker traitors were still alive? Not only that, they were supporting Pietro financially?" George grounded his teeth and clenched his knuckles.

That's true. No matter how much I wanted to save Oliver and have him under my custody, it was still not safe. I'm not sure if Izen already predicted what was about to happen so he demanded that I stay away from my grandson.

Two months ago, three families under my former organization came together and attacked my estate, bringing 200 men. It was the bloodiest war I have ever been in since I almost lost my life years ago. Not only that, confidential files were exposed to the media about our illegal activities. However, no matter how they try to bring me down, they don't have any dirt against me. When I turned my back on the organization, I made sure to tie all loose ends. I won't let my past haunt me.

The situation started to stabilize three weeks ago, but we knew we still had to deal with Pietro. When my men caught him five months ago, Izen, for the very first time since he left home, visited me.

I had the shock of my life when I saw my son sitting in the living room, as he talked animatedly to Drake, Adrian, and George. Despite the frustrations Adrian has against Izen, they were the best of friends, along with Drake. Adrian was the most heartbroken when my son left without notice.

I thought he forgave me that's why he visited, but I was wrong.

"Leave Pietro alone. I will deal with him, Don Felipe," Izen stated coldly. My heart hurt not because of his cold tone, but because he called me Don Felipe; even though I told him to call me that ever since he was able to understand my words.

I was a proud man. A very proud and arrogant man. Despite my cold glares and blatant disregard for his existence, he will always come running to me, calling me Papa and beaming. I wonder... when did he start calling me Don Felipe? A bitter pill exploded in my mouth. That's right. I won't know because I had never been a good father to him.

How conceited was I to think that he visited me because he forgave me?

"Stay out of my business, and deal with yours," he demanded with finality, his eyes serious and intimidating. "Don't come close to Oliver. Again. Stay away from my family. That is if you still have respect for me."

That was the last conversation we had, because a few weeks after, I will find myself carrying the dead bodies of my son and daughter-in-law. That a few weeks after, my heart will be broken to pieces, with no way of being fixed. Losing Izen will always be my greatest heartbreak and regret. If only I had the guts to say no. If only I disagreed, Oliver would still have a complete family. If only I killed Pietro from the start, we won't have to deal with this shit.

A loud explosion pulled me out of my reverie, both of us grunting. George groaned and scratched the back of his head in annoyance. "Those dumbasses. I locked the storage room for explosives! How did Adrian get his supply?"

I shook my head and leaned against the chair. Those two are just adding to my stress. I feel like I aged ten times because of those troublemakers. "Remember, Adrian is a genius. He can hack any security system. Your efforts are pretty much futile, George."

"Mierda! I'll let them have a piece of my mind. They can't keep destroying the mansion every week! I thought nothing was going to happen because we're literally at the end of the month, but I jinxed myself." His face became tense when he heard another explosion. "I won't let them off with a few punches, that much I can tell you."

George headed to the east wing with hurried steps, another curse falling from his lips when he heard another explosion. I sighed again and stood up, then sat beside Oliver. "This time, I will make everything right. I was not able to do it for your father, but I will protect you with all my might."

I will ensure that you live happily. No one can hurt you again.

I glanced at the door when Angelo came in. He's George's second-in-command. "Don Felipe," he bowed and approached me. "Here is what I researched about Stefan Alexandrei. This is everything, Don." He handed me the brown envelope and went back to his station.

I pulled out the document, a smirk on my lips. "Interesting. Who would have thought? Life is really full of surprises, eh, rich boy?" I stared at the photo of the man who had saved my life. The world is such a small place. I never thought that you would become my grandson's lover. Still, I won't let you have it easy.

I have to make sure that Oliver will not get hurt and suffer another heartbreak. If I had to become the devil's advocate, I'd willingly do so, without hesitation.

First, I need to make a call.

****

36 hrs since Oliver was abducted

9:45 am

Garcia's Estate, Seville Spain

O L L I E

I groaned and gripped the sides of my head when they throbbed as if someone was splitting my head into two. "Ow... hurts. My head hurts." I mumbled hoarsely. I heard the clattering of cutlery and the dragging of a chair to my side. I slowly opened my eyes, only to be met by a pair of orbs I have been missing since. My eyes started to blur from unshed tears when I realized something.

Yeah. Dad's not here anymore. A bitter feeling washed over me. I blinked away my tears and tried to sit up. The man in front of me assisted me and helped me lean against the headboard.

I wiped my tears and when my vision cleared, the brown eyes of a man in his 50s stared at me in worry, as he searched my face for any signs of discomfort.

"W-water, please."

He widened his gaze and nodded. "Sure. I'm sorry about that, my boy." He signaled to the maidservants who turned out to be the women who attended to me yesterday. They gave the man a glass of water and he brought it to my lips. The warm liquid moisturized my throat and warmed my chest and I nodded to let him know that I'm alright.

"Do you need anything? Are you starving? The head servant cooked enough for a banquet. Do you have any favorites? Wait. Before that, how are you feeling?" He fired away, as he asked me frantically.

Yep. I confirmed my theory. I smiled at him and he gasped in surprise, not expecting me to treat him without hostility. "You sound like my dad, grandfather."

He was taken aback and froze, the gasps from everyone in the room filled the space. The way his face became unreadable and how so many emotions crossed his mature and intimidating face was amusing.

A multitude of emotions crossed his eyes. "How... did you know?" He was able to voice out weakly, still bewildered.

"We have the same eyes. You also resemble Dad, or maybe the other way around," I giggled, and he smiled softly. He reached for my hand and squeezed it, then brought it against his chest. I was at a loss for words when he burst into tears. The two women immediately left the room and closed the door.

"Nieto. My precious grandson. I'm so sorry. Please forgive your abuelito," he said in a cracked voice and buried his face in my neck. The way he clung to me for support was so heartbreaking. His voice was raw and full of anguish, bringing tears to my eyes. My hands moved on their own and rubbed his back. He tensed for a few seconds and gave me a final squeeze before letting go. His eyes were red and puffy when he stared at me.

"Grandfather, you're such a crybaby." He was shocked at my remark and started to laugh a little.

"I'm sorry, my boy. I'm just so happy that you're here," he said with a smile, a bit relieved.

"What's your name, grandfather?"

"Felipe Garcia II. Your father's real name was Izen Jacobs Garcia."

"Oh. So, I'm a Garcia as well?" Hmm. Oliver Garcia.

Grandfather nodded happily. "Of course. You will be my heir, Oliver. Izen was supposed to... never mind," he dismissed and smiled at me. For a moment, a hint of intense sadness and regret crossed those brown pools.

I hummed and patted his palm on my thigh. "We'll talk later, grandfather. You should give me a good reason as to why you kidnapped me. If not, I will never... forgive you." This time, I did not hide the anger and hostility.

I have said it before. No one gets away with hurting Stefan, even if they are my family.

I immediately replaced my dark expression with a cheerful one, my grandfather was startled and at a loss for words. "I'm hungry, grandfather. Should we eat?"

He scoffed and shook his head. "Who would have thought that my grandson would be this scary?" He asked, amused with his brow lifted.

"Nah. I get by. I don't want to let anyone drag me down again. I won't let anyone hurt me again; so be prepared, Grandfather. I don't care if you're my blood relative. You hurt Stef, you hurt me. I hope you're prepared for the consequences. I will not be pushed around anymore." The tone of my voice was hard and threatening.

He smiled and patted my head. "Izen brought you up well. I'm ready to take responsibility for my actions. Shall we go downstairs?" I nodded and he called a nurse inside.

The nurse removed my IV grip and cleaned the opened wound. He rolled in a wheelchair and assisted me to sit in it. "Hey, grandfather," I called his attention when he started to push my wheelchair.

"Yes?"

"Can I call Stef?"

"No." He answered firmly and my heart dropped.

"Why?" I swallowed and tried to keep my voice firm, but I'm on the edge of breaking down.