The tension in the mansion was suffocating. Heaven couldn't stop thinking about what Dylan had said.
"You remind me of someone I lost a long time ago."
Samantha.
Who was she? What did she mean to Dylan?
Why did he refuse to move on?
Heaven clenched her fists as she paced around her room. Dylan was a monster—her family's murderer. And yet, beneath all that darkness, there was something else.
Pain.
But why did she care?
She shook her head, forcing herself to focus on the real issue—Michael. His condition was still fragile, and she couldn't afford to be distracted.
A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.
"Miss Heaven," Jayden's voice came through. "Master Dylan requests your presence in the dining hall."
Her heart sank. What now?
Sighing, she straightened herself and followed Jayden downstairs.
---
The Dining Hall
Dylan sat at the head of the long table, dressed in his usual black. His piercing gaze met hers the moment she entered.
Heaven swallowed hard, but she refused to look away.
"Sit," he ordered.
She hesitated, but Jayden nudged her forward. With a sigh, she took the seat across from Dylan.
A moment of silence stretched between them before Dylan finally spoke.
"I don't have time for your tantrums, Heaven," he said, sipping his wine. "If you want your brother to survive, you will listen."
Her jaw tightened. "What do you mean?"
Dylan leaned back. "Michael's treatment requires special medication. You think I don't know you've been sneaking around, trying to find a way to help him?"
Her breath hitched. He knew?
Of course, he did. Nothing escaped Dylan Martin.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Dylan smirked. "I want you to be smart, kitten. I'll provide the medication. But you have to stop acting like you have a choice in this house."
Heaven's fingers curled around her fork. "And if I refuse?"
Dylan's eyes darkened. "Then your brother dies."
Her heart clenched.
"You're a monster," she whispered.
Dylan chuckled, setting his glass down. "And yet, you're still here."
She hated how right he was.
But she had no choice.
"Fine," she said through gritted teeth. "I'll do what you want."
Dylan's smirk widened. "Good girl."
---
Meanwhile – Richard's Strike
Richard stood in an abandoned warehouse, watching as his men loaded stolen crates into trucks.
Dylan's supply chain had been hit hard. He knew his brother wouldn't let it slide.
And that's exactly what he wanted.
"We're almost done here, boss," one of his men reported.
Richard smirked. "Good. Let's make sure Dylan feels this."
Just then, his phone buzzed.
He answered, expecting good news. Instead, a familiar voice sent a chill down his spine.
"You're playing a dangerous game, little brother."
Richard's smirk faltered. "Dylan."
"Enjoy your victory while it lasts," Dylan's voice was cold. "Because I'm coming for you."
The line went dead.
Richard clenched his jaw.
The real war had just begun.