CEO loves me with all his soul.-Chapter 72. Savas Faust.

As Cain and Jesper finally bid goodbye, the atmosphere in the house remained light and warm. Adrian and Isaac exchanged brief, understanding smiles as their fathers turned to leave, each feeling a newfound connection after a day of emotional revelations. Jesper gave one last affectionate look toward Adrian and Isaac, his eyes holding back a mix of pride and relief. "Don’t keep us waiting too long," he said, his voice soft, almost as if he couldn’t bear to let them go so soon.

Adrian nodded, and with that, the door closed, leaving the family with a warm sense of togetherness. Adrian turned toward Ethan, sharing a glance that held the day’s emotions—the surprise, the love, and the unspoken questions still hovering in the air. They both let out small sighs of relief, and Adrian chuckled, tugging at Ethan’s hand. "I think we both need some rest after today."

Back in their bedroom, Adrian sat on the edge of the bed, thoughtful. As he leaned back, he finally asked, "Do you think Isaac knew any of this? I mean... all these secrets. He didn’t seem surprised."

Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly having been mulling over the same thought. "I was wondering the same thing," he admitted, sitting beside Adrian. "Isaac has his ways of digging up information. But I’ll talk to him... when the time is right."

Adrian smiled, satisfied with that answer for now, and leaned into Ethan, letting the tension of the day fade away in their quiet moment together.

Elsewhere, Argo stood in the grand but dimly lit study of the Faust family estate. Across from him, sprawled on a velvet couch, sat Savas Faust—a man whose presence exuded a mix of indifference and quiet menace. Savas yawned again, clearly disinterested in their questions. Argo’s eyes narrowed slightly, assessing Savas’s uncooperative stance. The young man had been a victim of the infamous kidnappings twenty years ago, and though he had since been freed, there were rumors he had never quite regained his mental stability. Yet, the Faust family had kept him home rather than sending him to an asylum, bound by familial loyalty or perhaps a quiet shame.

Jay, who had been casually snacking on a cluster of grapes, glanced up as Argo’s gaze met his. Realizing he was supposed to be professional, Jay cleared his throat, straightened his posture, and looked at Savas with renewed interest.

Argo exhaled sharply, his patience thinning. "Savas," he began firmly, "do you remember anything from the past? Or are we just wasting our time here?"

Savas gave a halfhearted shrug, closing his eyes as if their presence were a mere nuisance. The silence stretched, with Argo’s frustration growing. He was about to gather his things and leave, feeling this was a dead end, when Savas’s voice cut through the air, stopping him in his tracks.

"You will be dead if you go deeper than this."

Argo spun around, stunned. The dismissive Savas hadn’t opened his eyes, his expression as casual as ever, but his words hung in the room like a warning. Argo’s instincts sharpened, his mind racing. What could he mean?

Argo clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath to keep his cool. "So, Savas, care to explain that little riddle?" he asked, crossing his arms and fixing a steely gaze on the young man lounging on the couch. "You’ll have to be more specific than vague threats if you want us to believe you know something we don’t."

Savas lifted an eyebrow, a mocking smirk playing on his lips. "Believe?" he sneered. "You shouldn’t believe, officer. You should know. But your little team has no clue what they’re up against. It’s amusing, really. You all come in here, hoping to find answers—"

"Let’s not play games," Argo interrupted, voice stern. "You seem to know quite a bit about what’s going on. So tell me—who’s behind all of this? Who touched the five strongest families of the country and got away with it?"

Savas laughed, an unsettling sound. "Touching the families?" he scoffed. "You think it was one person? One organization? Please, detective, you’re looking at this far too simply. There’s an entire world outside your neat little files."

Argo’s eyes narrowed. "And you’re saying you’re part of that world?"

Savas shrugged, a languid motion, as if the conversation were beneath him. "Maybe. Maybe not. But let’s just say I know what’s happening. I understand how things are really... connected. Something your team, for all its supposed brilliance, is far too weak to grasp."

"Too weak?" Jay, who had been silently observing, bristled at the comment. "You think we’re here for show? We’ve tracked down people who went to ground for decades. Our team has cracked open cases no one else could."

Savas chuckled. "Cracked open cases? Oh, that’s adorable. Chasing down petty criminals and local mysteries? That’s child’s play." He leaned forward, meeting Argo’s gaze with a cold, calculating stare. "This is something far bigger, something your entire team could never handle."

Argo crossed his arms, refusing to let Savas’s words get to him. "Then why don’t you educate us, genius? If you’re so high and mighty, show us what we’re missing."

Savas laughed again, leaning back on the couch as if Argo’s challenge were the funniest thing he’d heard all day. "You wouldn’t last five seconds in my world. The people I’ve met, the things I’ve seen... You’re like ants scurrying around in the dark, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sun. Pathetic."

Argo’s face hardened. "Your arrogance is astounding. We’ve faced down criminals who thought they were untouchable, and each one thought they had it all figured out until we proved them wrong."

Savas shook his head, sighing. "And yet, here you are, clueless. You think kidnapping a few kids was just some kind of isolated incident?" He looked at Argo with disdain. "The real power isn’t in the family ties or the bank accounts. It’s in the science, the research, the things your kind would never even dream of understanding."

Jay leaned forward, irritation evident in his voice. "If you know so much, then why not just tell us? Or are you too afraid to admit that maybe you’re just as clueless as you claim we are?"

Savas’s eyes flashed, his mocking grin vanishing for a split second. "Afraid?" he repeated softly, his tone chilling. "I don’t fear anything. Least of all, you or your so-called team."

Argo seized on the shift, his gaze unwavering. "Then prove it. Share what you know, if you’re so certain we’re out of our league. Or is all of this just empty talk?"

Savas tilted his head, a calculating glint in his eyes. "Why should I? It’s amusing watching you scramble, piecing together fragments of a puzzle you’ll never solve."

Jay clenched his fists. "You seem awfully confident for someone who’s been lounging around with nothing to show for it. Are you just all talk, Savas?"

Savas laughed again, his tone taunting. "Please, spare me. You don’t want the truth. You can’t handle it. You’d be eaten alive the moment you got close."

Argo leaned in, voice cold. "Try us. We’re not backing down just because of a few cryptic threats. Tell me what you know about the experiments, about the kidnappings, about whatever mess you’re hinting at."

Savas sighed, rolling his eyes as if bored. "Fine," he said, voice dripping with disdain. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’re all barking up the wrong tree. This isn’t about wealth or revenge. It’s about power—the kind of power that turns people into gods or... monsters."

Argo met his gaze, undeterred. "And what part do you play in that, Savas? Are you one of those gods, or are you just another pawn?"

Savas’s smirk returned. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

---

On a far away Island, In a huge isolated building.

The woman clutched the bars of her cage, voice raw with fear and rage. "You monster! Look what you’ve done to him! How could you... this is unnatural, it’s against everything we know!"

The researcher’s gaze was cold and unfeeling, her lips curling in mild disgust. "Unnatural?" she scoffed. "Spare me your self-righteousness. This is science in its purest form."

The woman’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at her husband, who writhed and twisted into something barely recognizable. "You call this science? You’ve turned him into... into a nightmare!"

The researcher smirked. "Nightmare? You say that now, but one day people will thank me for what I’ve done here. The world is not as you think—kind and gentle. It’s harsh, brutal. We’re giving humanity the tools to survive it."

The woman spat in her direction. "Survive? This isn’t survival! This is playing god, defying the natural order!"

The researcher’s smile widened, almost mocking. "And who decided the natural order? You? Your so-called ’God’? Nature has always been about the strongest, the fittest. All I’m doing is speeding up evolution."

The woman clenched her fists, her face twisted in defiance. "If this is evolution, I want no part of it. I’d rather die than become... whatever it is you’re trying to create!"

The researcher laughed, a chilling, hollow sound. "Then you’re a fool. Evolution doesn’t wait for your approval. The world is already changing. I’m just ensuring humanity isn’t left behind."

The woman’s voice shook. "You’re insane. If humanity becomes what you’re making, then we’re already lost."

The researcher’s eyes narrowed. "And you’re blind. Tell me, do you think humanity is perfect? Disease, famine, war—we’re barely surviving as it is. What I’m doing here is giving us the chance to be more."

The woman shook her head. "You’re corrupting us! Sacrificing our very souls. You’re no savior; you’re a madman!"

The researcher’s expression hardened. "Mad? I’m the only one who sees the truth. The weak, the feeble—they’re holding us back. And your ’humanity’ would turn against itself without a second thought, given the chance."

The woman’s voice cracked. "Even if that’s true, there’s no excuse for this. My husband... look at him! He’s in agony, and you call it a failure!"

The researcher sneered. "His pain is nothing compared to the pain that lies ahead if we don’t adapt. You think I don’t care? This is necessary."

The woman cried, desperation clear in her eyes. "Necessary? You’re sacrificing lives—sacrificing humanity’s soul!"

The researcher sighed, growing impatient. "How dramatic. Soul, humanity—it’s all nonsense. I’m giving humanity the chance to evolve, to live beyond its primitive constraints."

The woman scoffed, voice filled with disdain. "You talk of evolution as if it justifies all this. What you’re creating here isn’t evolution—it’s abomination!"

The researcher’s gaze sharpened. "Abomination? And what do you think humanity has been doing for centuries? Conquering, consuming, ravaging every part of the earth? I’m only taking it to its logical end."

The woman glared at her, voice steady. "At least before, we had some semblance of morals. You’ve lost everything that made you human."

The researcher’s lips twisted in a cruel smile. "And that’s why I’ll succeed. Humanity’s softness, its weakness—those are the real diseases. And I am the cure."

The woman shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "You’re not a cure. You’re a nightmare, worse than anything humanity has ever known."

The researcher leaned in close, her voice a venomous whisper. "Then be grateful. Because soon, humanity will have no need for your outdated fears or morals. You’ll see."

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