The grand London apartment stood tall in the heart of the city. Inside, a spacious bedroom with a king-sized bed was bathed in the golden rays of the morning sun. Those rays crept through the sheer curtains, falling across the bare chest of a man now twenty-Six. His chiseled features, sharp jawline, and tousled dark hair made him look like a Greek god in slumber. Yet, his brows were furrowed, lips pressed tight, as if even sleep could not chase away the weight of his thoughts.
He groaned, dragging the pillow over his face, but the stubborn sun refused to let him sleep any longer.
A sharp knock on the door broke the silence.
"Ugh…" the man muttered, running a hand through his messy hair as he got up. He pulled open the door—only to be nearly tackled by a younger man, about twenty-four, who leapt onto him with childlike enthusiasm.
"Good morning, brother!" the younger one shouted with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.
Sebastian Whitmore sighed in irritation, his patience wearing thin. He shoved him back slightly. "Stop it, Julian."
Julian Whitmore only laughed louder, his grin widening. "Bro, finally! I'm going back to Sydney. Yahoooo! I'm so happy, man. I swear, I was getting bored of London already."
Sebastian arched an eyebrow, arms crossing against his chest. His deep voice carried both disbelief and mockery. "Medical field was your choice, Julian. And I still can't believe you're a doctor now."
Julian puffed out his chest proudly, grabbed the collar of Sebastian's t-shirt dramatically, and declared, "Correction, brother. Dr. Julian Whitmore. Say it with respect!"
Sebastian rolled his eyes, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. He would never admit it aloud, but seeing Julian's endless energy and achievements did fill him with pride.
The servant entered the room and handed two steaming mugs of coffee to Sebastian and Julian.
Julian grabbed his cup eagerly, eyes sparkling with excitement, while Sebastian took his with calm composure.
Julian grinned wide. "Bro, are you coming back to Sydney too?"
Sebastian took a slow sip, his deep voice steady. "Yes. I miss Mom and Dad… it's been two years since I last went home. But I have meetings here. They'll take a week to finish, and then we'll go together."
Julian's grin instantly faded. His eyes widened in horror, and he nearly choked on his coffee.
"No wayyy! I'm leaving tomorrow. Senorita's birthday is coming up, and I promised her I'd be there before the big day. If I miss it, she'll never forgive me!"
Sebastian's jaw tightened at the mention of that name. He set his mug down with a little too much force and gave Julian a sharp look.
"Senorita again. You and Mia keep chanting her name like a prayer. What magic does this girl have over you two?"
Julian only laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mischief.
"You wouldn't understand, Seb. Our connection with her is different. She's family. She's ours. You've never met her properly… that's why you don't know."
For a moment, Sebastian's expression faltered—his irritation masking a storm brewing inside. His voice dropped, rough yet controlled.
"This time… I'll meet your Senorita."
Julian tilted his head, studying him curiously, but then smirked and brushed it off. "Good. About time. Anyway, I'm off to buy gifts for my girls. Bye-bye, Mister Serious."
He left with his usual energy, laughter echoing in the hallways.
Sebastian walked slowly toward the tall glass window, mug in hand. The morning light spilled across his face as he gazed down at the busy London streets. People rushed about, chasing their lives—but his thoughts weren't here.
His chest felt heavy, his mind clouded. For years he had buried these emotions, locked them away, but her presence—her memory—always lingered.
A faint, almost forbidden smile tugged at his lips as he whispered to himself, so softly the air barely carried it:
"I'm coming… my girl."
Sebastian Whitmore got ready in his usual office attire—a sharp navy blue blazer over a crisp white shirt, sleeves perfectly rolled up, paired with tailored black trousers. His tall, imposing frame gave him an air of authority even before he stepped outside.
Breakfast was minimal, more out of habit than hunger. With his bag slung over his shoulder, he left his apartment and walked to his sleek black car, the morning city streets of Sydney reflecting off the polished metal. Today was just another day at Whitmore Enterprises, the London branch he now ruled as CEO, but his mind was far from ordinary tasks.
Sebastian Whitmore was all power, precision, and dominance. In the office, he was feared—angry when challenged, relentless when pursuing goals, and merciless when it came to anyone or anything he considered his. Possession and control were his nature.
Yet, beneath the armor of ambition, a single memory refused to fade. A girl. He didn't know her name, didn't know her story—but he could never forget her eyes, or the way her lips had caught his attention so completely. She had ignited something in him he had buried for years, a storm he could neither predict nor resist.
And now, she had become his priority. Every thought, every plan—even amidst his empire and responsibilities—was clouded by the need to find her, to make her his. He didn't know why, or how, but Sebastian Whitmore had decided: she would be in his life.
After a week, he would go to Sydney, and finding his girl would be his first priority. Over the past five years, he had been to Sydney more than three times. Each visit, his heart had screamed to see her, to find her, but he had stopped himself. Not now. First, he would honor the promises he had made to himself and to his father, complete his duties and responsibilities, and only then would he allow himself to pursue her.
And when Sebastian Whitmore wanted something, nothing—not time, distance, or circumstance—would stand in his way.