The war had only just begun, and already, the tension was suffocating. Dylan sat in the dimly lit study, surrounded by his closest men, but his mind was far from the room.
"Dylan," Jayden said, his voice interrupting the silence. "We've gathered all the information we could. Richard's allies are scattered, but they're powerful. Whoever's helping him is playing a long game."
Dylan remained still, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the table. "I don't care about his allies," he said coldly. "I want him."
Jayden hesitated. "Richard's not going to just give up. He'll come for you, and when he does, he'll bring everything he has."
Dylan's smirk returned, dark and dangerous. "Good. Let him come. I'll be ready."
His gaze flickered to the window, the night sky stretching above the city. The lights below blinked, oblivious to the war brewing in their midst. He hadn't spent years building his empire only to have it destroyed by his illegitimate brother. No, Richard would learn that there was a price for betrayal. A steep one.
---
Richard's New Plan
Meanwhile, in the shadows, Richard was not idle. His safe house had been turned into a base of operations, and he was surrounded by a small army of loyal men who had once served him in the underworld. But even with his forces assembled, he knew this war wouldn't be easy.
"We need to get to Dylan before he has time to regroup," Richard told Vincent, his voice low and cold. "We can't let him think he's still in control."
Vincent nodded. "We'll strike first, boss. We have the advantage right now."
Richard turned to face him, his eyes hard. "No. We wait. Let Dylan make the first move."
Vincent raised an eyebrow, confused. "But, boss—"
Richard silenced him with a sharp gesture. "Let him believe that he has everything under control. Let him think he's the one calling the shots."
He smiled darkly. "Then, when the time is right, we'll strike. And we'll make him wish he'd never crossed me."
The underworld had always been a game of power and control, and now, the stakes were higher than ever. Richard knew Dylan's weaknesses, and he wasn't afraid to exploit them.
But there was one thing that Richard hadn't accounted for.
Heaven.
---
Heaven's Struggle
Heaven walked through the corridors of Dylan's mansion, her footsteps echoing in the quiet halls. Every instinct in her body was telling her that things were about to take a very dark turn.
Her thoughts were consumed with Michael—would he be safe? And she couldn't deny the nagging feeling that Dylan's presence, for all its coldness, was somehow protective. Even though she hated to admit it, the more she saw of him, the more she realized that underneath that icy exterior was a man who would stop at nothing to protect what was his.
And yet, she couldn't trust him.
Heaven had heard the whispers about Richard's return, and she knew what it meant. War.
She couldn't stay in the mansion forever. If Richard and Dylan were going to tear each other apart, she needed to get Michael out of there, to a place where they would be safe. But how could she escape when she couldn't even trust the very walls surrounding her?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a figure standing at the end of the hallway. Dylan.
Heaven froze for a moment, but then quickly straightened her back. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
Dylan studied her with that same calculating gaze. "You seem troubled."
She crossed her arms defensively. "What did you expect? Your psychotic stepbrother is out there, plotting a war, and I'm supposed to be fine with that?"
Dylan's eyes narrowed, but his voice remained calm. "You should be more concerned about your own safety. Richard doesn't play by the rules, and he's not going to stop until he gets what he wants."
Heaven didn't flinch. "You think I don't know that?"
She took a step toward him, her voice low but filled with quiet anger. "Don't act like you're some kind of hero here, Dylan. You brought this on yourself. You and your precious little empire."
Dylan's gaze softened for a split second, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. "You think I don't know what's at stake?" he said quietly. "I've been at the top for too long to let someone like Richard tear it all down."
Heaven looked away, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "Then do something about it."
Dylan stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "I will. But right now, the best thing you can do is stay out of it."
Heaven turned to walk away, her chest tight with frustration.
Before she reached the door, Dylan's voice stopped her. "I'll keep Michael safe. I promised you that."
She didn't turn around. "I don't need your promises, Dylan."
But somewhere deep down, she wondered if he might keep that one.
---
The Calm Before the Storm
The next few days passed in silence, but Heaven could feel the undercurrent of tension building.
Dylan and Richard were playing a dangerous game, each trying to outsmart the other. Heaven had no idea who would win, but she knew one thing for sure—when the storm finally broke, no one would be left unscathed.
And she feared for Michael more than she feared for herself.
The calm before the storm was always the worst.
And she could feel the storm coming.