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 imdiately.

"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 ti his car reached the coast, the sky was a bruised blue.

The sll 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 n 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 tal 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 sothing glinting faintly in the sand near the flas.

A small silver bracelet glistened.

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

This was Celeste’s.

He stared at it for a long ti, 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 n 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 ti. The flas 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 n reported carefully. "Soone 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 ant whoever had done this wanted her.

His voice, when it ca, 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 n scattered imdiately.

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 gas, but this was different.

This was Celeste.

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

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

Rodger was still unconscious. The dic 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 dic 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 ca 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 soone hit 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 n. "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 movent 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 ca 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 ant they were being moved separately. It wasn’t random. It was deliberate.

"Show the last fra 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 to you."

And his answer was, "Maybe I am."

The mory hit like a blade twisting in his chest.

Dominic closed his hand around the bracelet again, his throat tightening. The sll 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.