The air in Dylan's study was thick with tension. Jayden stood before him, hands clasped behind his back, his usual confidence nowhere to be seen.
Dylan leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze locked on the man who had once been his most trusted right-hand. Betrayal. The word echoed in his mind, filling him with cold rage.
"You think I don't remember?" Dylan's voice was dangerously low. He tilted his glass, watching the amber liquid swirl inside. "You stood there… in my own house… and dared to work against me."
Jayden exhaled. "Boss, I—"
Dylan slammed his glass on the table, cutting him off. The sound shattered the silence, making Jayden flinch.
"You have no right to call me that anymore."
Jayden clenched his jaw. "I was wrong. I see that now. But I was only trying to—"
Dylan's icy stare stopped him mid-sentence. "You were trying to what? Sell me out to my enemies? Or maybe you were waiting for the perfect moment to put a knife in my back?"
Jayden shook his head. "It wasn't like that. I made a mistake, but I've always been loyal to you."
Dylan let out a dark chuckle. "Loyalty? That word means nothing to me anymore."
The weight of his words settled over the room like a death sentence. Jayden knew there was no coming back from this.
"I should kill you." Dylan's voice was calm, almost detached. "And yet… I haven't."
Jayden's fists clenched. "Then why am I still standing here?"
Dylan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "Because I want to see how far you'll go to fix what you've broken."
It wasn't forgiveness. It was a test.
Jayden understood that much. Dylan might not trust him, but he was keeping him alive—for now.
"Fine," Jayden said, his voice steady. "I'll prove my loyalty."
Dylan smirked coldly. "We'll see."
But deep down, they both knew—things would never be the same again.
---
Meanwhile – The Dungeon Escape
Richard sat against the damp stone wall of his cell, his wrists still bruised from the chains that had once bound him. The dungeon was dark, the air thick with the scent of decay and old blood.
But Richard wasn't broken. Not yet.
Footsteps echoed down the hall. His head snapped up, his sharp gaze narrowing as a familiar figure emerged from the shadows.
The guard.
Richard smirked. Right on time.
The man knelt beside the bars, glancing over his shoulder before sliding a small blade through the gap. "Your men have been waiting for my signal. When I unlock the door, make it quick."
Richard took the knife without hesitation. Dylan thought he had won. But he had underestimated him.
A few seconds later, the cell door creaked open.
Richard wasted no time. The first guard fell before he even had a chance to react, his throat slit with a single, fluid motion. The second barely had time to scream before Richard snapped his neck.
By the time the alarm rang, Richard was already disappearing into the night.
Dylan had taken everything from him.
Now, it was time to take everything from Dylan.