Richard paced inside his newly fortified hideout deep within the underground tunnels of Sector 9—once a black market hub, now his war base. Maps of Dylan's territory littered the table, red circles drawn over vulnerable locations. His eyes glinted with satisfaction.
"She screamed, didn't she?" he asked the masked man kneeling before him—injured, trembling.
"Yes, Boss. But I didn't touch her," the man choked. "They showed up too fast."
Richard's face twisted with displeasure. "I didn't tell you to touch her. I told you to scare her."
He walked over slowly, lifted the man's chin with the tip of his cane, then without warning—crack!—brought it down on his skull.
The man collapsed.
"Fear works better than pain," Richard muttered. "But disobedience… that's always punished."
He turned to his second-in-command, Luka.
"Any word on Dylan?"
Luka nodded. "He's issued a warning. Most of the minor factions are starting to shift their allegiance."
Richard chuckled. "Of course they are. Cowards and worms, all of them. They'll come crawling back once he falls."
"But Dylan isn't cracking, sir," Luka added. "And his silence? It's dangerous."
Richard's face darkened. "Let him be silent. That's how he's always been. Silent… until it's too late."
His fingers tightened into fists. "He took everything from me. Grandfather's empire. My legacy. Even the love I deserved…"
He glanced at a worn photograph beside his whiskey glass. A photo of Dylan… and Samantha.
"I was supposed to be the heir. Not him. The bastard son…"
He crushed the glass in his hand.
"This time, I won't just defeat him. I'll make him beg."
—
Meanwhile, back at Dylan's estate…
Heaven lay in bed, the room dim and still. Her fingers traced over the slight bruise on her wrist, a souvenir of the earlier attack. Despite the silence, her mind screamed.
She heard the door creak.
Dylan stepped in, slowly, without saying a word.
He walked to her, eyes darker than she'd ever seen them.
"You're not safe," he said simply.
"I noticed," she replied, voice quiet, but firm.
Dylan knelt in front of her. "I should have known Richard would go this far. I underestimated him."
Heaven stared at him. "He doesn't just want your empire, does he?"
Dylan met her eyes. "No. He wants to destroy everything I've built. And you… you're part of that now."
She looked away, but Dylan's hand caught her cheek.
"He'll never touch you again, Heaven. I swear it."
She wanted to believe him.
"Don't make promises you can't keep," she said.
Dylan stood, his expression unreadable. "I don't make promises. I make threats. And I always follow through."
Then he turned and left, his voice echoing in the hallway.
"Prepare the men. Tonight, we attack."
—
Hours later…
Richard stood in his office, drinking from a crystal glass when alarms blared. Red lights flickered. Gunfire echoed down the tunnels.
Luka burst into the room. "They've found us!"
Richard's smile returned, slow and venomous.
"Good," he whispered. "Let the games begin."