The next morning, Heaven sat in front of the vanity mirror, staring at her reflection.
She still couldn't believe what Dylan had asked of her.
Be his leverage?
Her hands curled into fists.
She had no choice. Not when Michael's life depended on it.
A soft knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.
Jayden entered. "Miss Heaven, the boss is waiting for you downstairs."
She exhaled sharply. "What now?"
Jayden hesitated. "Richard has made his move."
Her heart stopped. "What do you mean?"
Jayden's expression was unreadable. "We'll explain downstairs."
Without another word, he turned and left.
Heaven stood up, her pulse racing.
Richard.
Had he come for her already?
---
The War Escalates
When Heaven reached Dylan's office, she found him sitting behind his desk, his fingers drumming lightly against the surface.
He looked calm. Too calm.
But the tension in the room was suffocating.
"Took you long enough," Dylan muttered without looking at her.
She glared at him. "If you're going to use me as bait, at least tell me what's happening."
Dylan smirked and gestured for her to sit. "Richard attacked one of my clubs last night."
Her stomach twisted. "Were people hurt?"
Dylan didn't answer. "He's trying to provoke me."
Jayden stepped forward. "That's not all. Richard left a message."
Dylan's eyes darkened. "He told me to enjoy my little pet while I still can."
A chill ran down Heaven's spine.
Richard was watching them.
"What does that mean?" she asked.
Dylan leaned back in his chair, studying her. "It means he's planning to take you."
Her breath caught. "And you're still using me as bait?"
Dylan's lips curled into a smirk. "That's exactly why you're perfect bait, kitten."
She shot up from her seat. "You're insane!"
Dylan grabbed her wrist, pulling her toward him. His voice was low, dangerous.
"And yet, here you are, still alive, because of me."
She yanked her hand away. "That doesn't mean I trust you."
Dylan chuckled darkly. "You don't have to."
---
Richard's Next Move
Meanwhile, Richard sat in the back of his car, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
"So, she's with Dylan," he mused.
His informant nodded. "Yes. She rarely leaves his mansion."
Richard smirked.
He had always been waiting for an opening.
Dylan had never cared for anything before. But now?
Now he was protecting something.
And that meant Dylan had a weakness.
"Prepare the men," Richard ordered. "We're taking her tonight."
The war had begun.