Heaven's fingers curled around the fabric of her nightgown as she stepped away from the window. Her pulse pounded in her ears. The sight of Dylan, blood-stained and eerily calm, sent a chill down her spine.
She had always known he was dangerous. But now, as she watched his men carry out silent, calculated movements, she understood—this wasn't just power.
This was war.
The door to her room burst open.
She gasped, spinning around to see Jayden standing there, his face unreadable.
"Come with me," he said.
Her heart stuttered. "Why?"
"Dylan wants to see you."
Of course, he did.
Heaven hesitated, glancing back at Michael. His small chest rose and fell, his fever still high but stable. She had no choice.
Squaring her shoulders, she followed Jayden out of the room.
---
Dylan's Office – The Monster Returns
The moment she stepped inside, the door clicked shut behind her.
Dylan stood by his desk, pouring himself a drink. He was still wearing his blood-stained suit, his face emotionless.
"You're awake," he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.
Heaven crossed her arms. "What do you want?"
Dylan's smirk was lazy, but there was a dark edge to it. "You saw, didn't you?"
She swallowed hard. "Saw what?"
He turned to face her fully, taking a slow sip of his drink. "The blood."
Her stomach twisted.
"You killed them," she whispered.
Dylan didn't deny it. He simply walked toward her, stopping just a breath away. "They were Richard's men."
Heaven clenched her fists. "That doesn't make it right."
Dylan tilted his head, studying her. "You still don't understand, do you?"
She glared up at him. "Understand what? That you're a cold-blooded killer?"
His smirk faded. "That this is survival."
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then Dylan took another step closer, his presence suffocating.
"Tell me, Heaven," he murmured. "How far would you go to protect Michael?"
Her breath hitched.
"Because that's what I'm doing," Dylan continued. "Protecting what's mine."
Her pulse pounded in her ears. "I'm not yours."
Dylan reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Aren't you?"
Her body tensed, but she refused to show weakness.
Dylan exhaled, stepping back. "Go to bed, Heaven."
She didn't move. "You're going to kill Richard, aren't you?"
Dylan's expression didn't change. "Go to bed."
She swallowed her fear and turned on her heel, storming out of the office.
But deep inside, she knew.
Dylan Martin had already made his decision.
And Richard's time was running out.
---
Meanwhile – Richard's Next Move
Richard slammed his fist against the desk. "Damn him!"
Blood. He had lost more men tonight.
Dylan wasn't playing defense anymore—he was hunting.
"What are our losses?" he demanded.
One of his men hesitated. "Fifteen, sir. Dylan left no survivors."
Richard gritted his teeth.
Dylan had sent a message loud and clear.
And Richard was ready to answer.
"Prepare the next strike," he ordered. "If Dylan wants a war, I'll give him one."