RUTHLESS DEVOTION: THE EMPIRE BETWEEN US

UNMASKED THREATS

Lowin stepped out of the boardroom, his heart heavy and his mind spinning in a thousand different directions. There was a dangerous war brewing with his twin and a massive business empire to run, but right now, none of that compared to the sheer panic tightening in his chest when he thought about Amilah.

He had promised her last night that today would be the day he finally bared his soul and told her everything. But the thought of unmasking himself terrified him more than his psychotic brother ever could.

How is she going to react?

When she finally found out that the mysterious "psycho" she had been teasing and falling for was actually Lowin Vance the cold, untouchable face of the Vance Empire, the very billionaire whose corporate proposal she had signed, would she feel betrayed? Would she run? Her furious reaction from the night before flashed in his mind, and a dark, possessive ache spread through his veins. There was absolutely no way he was letting her go. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her, let alone seeing her in the arms of another man. The mere image of it was enough to drive him completely insane.

He walked into his private office, the Salvatore brothers and his assistant, Tom, trailing closely behind him. Lowin sank into his leather chair and buried his face in his hands, letting out an exhausted breath.

Should I call her? Will she even pick up?

Reaching out, he grabbed his personal phone from the desk where he had left it during the meeting. The moment he tapped the screen, a notification popped up. Missed Call - Little Bird.

Lowin straightened up instantly, a sudden warmth cutting through his dark mood. She had called him? Without wasting a single second, he pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear.

The line rang once. Twice. On the third ring, a soft, incredibly sleepy voice answered. Amilah hadn't even checked the caller ID, she was still practically half-asleep on her boutique sofa.

"Amilah Miles here..." she murmured, her voice laced with a groggy, adorable warmth.

Lowin couldn't help the low, deep chuckle that escaped his throat. "I know exactly who you are, sweetheart."

At the sound of his rough, deeply affectionate tone, every single man in the room froze. The Salvatores stopped what they were doing, swapping wide-eyed, intensely curious glances. The ruthless Ice King was using a voice they had never heard before in their entire lives.

On the other end of the line, Amilah's eyes shot wide open. Hearing his deep baritone completely shook the sleep from her brain. She bolted upright on the sofa, her cheeks instantly burning with a fierce blush. But as she opened her mouth to speak, her mind went completely blank. She had no idea what to say.

Enjoying the quiet effect he had on her, Lowin broke the silence, his voice dropping into a soft, private murmur. "You called. Is everything okay?"

"Ye-yes," she stammered, frantically trying to clear her throat. "I... I just wanted to ask if you'll be attending the party tonight?"

Lowin pinched the bridge of his nose, a wave of regret washing over him. "I'll be there, but I'm going to be late.

There's some messy business I need to take care of first."

"Oh. Okay," Amilah said softly, a trace of disappointment in her voice that she couldn't quite hide. "See you there, then."

"See you tonight little bird."

She hung up quickly, slamming the phone against her chest as if that could somehow stop her heart from beating wildly against her ribs. Even though he was going to be late, a massive wave of relief washed over her. He was coming. At least she wouldn't have to face the intimidating high-society crowd entirely alone.

Meanwhile, in a heavily fortified penthouse tucked away on the outskirts of the city, Justin Vance was playing a very different game.

He leaned back against the plush leather armrest of his chair, his long, pale fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat against the wood. His head was tilted to the side, his dark eyes fixed entirely on a high-resolution photograph on the table. It was a picture his men had taken just hours ago. Amilah was standing outside her boutique, looking small and beautiful after stepping out of Lowin's Porsche.

"Tsk, tsk," Justin purred, a dark, wicked smirk spreading across his lips. The expression was a mirror image of Lowin's, but completely devoid of any humanity. "She is so f*****g beautiful. Why waste a masterpiece like this by making her disappear? I think I'd rather have her all to myself."

A low, sinister laugh escaped his chest as he turned his gaze to his right-hand man, Jacob.

"Jacob, can you imagine the look on my dear brother's face if I made her my wife?" Justin's eyes flashed with malice, his voice turning deadly serious. "It would drive Lowin to madness. And that is exactly what I want."

Jacob kept his expression entirely neutral, accustomed to his boss's erratic cruelty. "Your suit for the gala is ready, Boss."

Justin dismissed him with a lazy wave of his hand, his eyes tracking back to Amilah's face in the photo.

Back inside Lowin's executive office, the heavy silence was abruptly shattered. The double doors burst open, and Logan walked in without an appointment.

Tom, the assistant, looked like he was about to pass out on the spot. He stared at Logan as if the man had an explicit death wish. Nobody, absolutely nobody stormed into Lowin Vance's office unannounced. Seconds later, Mark rushed in right behind him, looking furious.

"Sir, I'm sorry, I tried to stop him," Mark breathed out, his hand instinctively reaching for his waistband.

Lowin didn't even flinch. He slowly leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes locking onto Logan. When he spoke, his voice was a dangerous chill, completely devoid of any emotion. "Is your conscience betraying you too, Logan?"

Logan didn't look up. He bowed his head deeply, his shoulders tense. "Sir... I have been feeding Justin Vance your personal information and tracking your corporate movements. I know what I did, and I deserve to be punished."

Mark completely lost his temper. Let out a harsh, wicked growl, he stepped forward and swung his fist with blinding speed. "You son of a b***h! I trusted you!"

The punch connected cleanly with Logan's jaw, the force of the blow sending him stumbling back as dark crimson blood immediately began to seep from the corner of his lips.

Logan didn't fight back. He simply wiped the blood away with the back of his hand, turning a cold, mocking gaze toward Mark. "You act so mighty, Mark, and yet you couldn't even spot a traitor right under your nose?"

Mark's eyes turned lethal, and he raised his fist to strike again, but Lowin's calm, commanding voice cut through the room like a blade. "Okay, boys. That's enough."

The authority in Lowin's voice was absolute. Logan immediately dropped to his knees, his head bowed to the floor. "I need your help, sir. Justin... he has my family. I went out to run some errands for him last night, and when I got back to the safe house, my wife and daughter were gone. He's holding them to keep me in line!"

Lowin let out a dark, amused chuckle as he stood up from his desk. As he walked around the perimeter of the room, his towering frame radiated a pure, murderous aura.

"You see, Logan, my brother and I share the same blood, which means we think exactly alike," Lowin said, his footsteps echoing against the hardwood. "If I were Justin, I wouldn't use a low-level executive who only shows up to board meetings as a spy. No, I'd go for someone who can move through my inner circle with ease. Someone in my private security detail."

Lowin stopped right in front of the kneeling man, looking down at him with terrifying calm. "So, last night I sat down and asked myself, When did I ever mention my little bird to my security team? And I realized... I haven't. Only Mark knew about her, and Mark knows the exact, bloody consequences of crossing me. But then I remembered the note. Mark gave you that note to deliver to Amizee Trends along with some food. You read it, copied the nickname, and passed it to Justin."

Logan began to tremble, but Lowin wasn't finished. A mocking smile touched his lips. "And just for your information, Logan... Justin didn't abduct your family. The moment you stepped out of that house to run his errands last night, my men moved in. I took your family."

Damien Salvatore let out a low whistle, a slow, predatory grin spreading across his face. "Damn. I'm starting to thoroughly enjoy this. One pawn down."

"I definitely didn't see that coming," Debrin added, leaning back against the sofa with an amused smirk.

Dane looked at Lowin, shaking his head. "We've been with you all morning, man. When the hell did you manage to pull that off?"

"Last night," Lowin replied smoothly, adjusting his cufflinks. "I figured out the leak right after dinner. I used the window when Logan was away to secure his wife and daughter before Justin uses them against Logan."

Logan's voice cracked as he begged, tears mixing with the blood on his face. "Please, sir... do whatever you want to me. Punish me, kill me, but spare my wife and daughter."

"I'm not a monster, Logan," Lowin said softly, though his eyes remained entirely cold. "I have no desire to harm an innocent woman and a child. But think about it... what do you think Justin will do to them the second he realizes you're standing in my office right now, betraying him?"

Logan froze, the horrific reality sinking in. Justin was a complete lunatic, if he found out Logan was compromised, he would hunt them down just to make a point.

Debrin chuckled darkly from the couch. "Logan, Logan... you are officially fucked."

Lowin leaned down slightly, capturing Logan's terrified gaze. "I'm going to give you one single chance to redeem yourself. You are going to keep working as his mole. But from this second on, I decide exactly what information you feed him. If he catches on to you, you're a dead man. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes! Yes, sir, I'll do whatever you want! Please, just keep them safe," Logan pleaded desperately.

"Don't worry. They are already on a private flight out of the country," Lowin said, turning back to his desk. "And you won't see them again until Justin is locked away in my basement. Now, clean yourself up and get back to work."

Logan scrambled to his feet and practically sprinted out of the executive suite, letting out a massive breath of relief the second the heavy glass doors shut behind him.

Lowin's gaze slowly drifted over to his head of security. He closed the physical gap between them, his presence completely overwhelming. "Mark. You failed to vet your own team, and in doing so, you put the most treasured person in my life at risk. What exactly am I supposed to do with you?"

Mark didn't flinch. He stood perfectly straight and bowed his head deeply. "I take full responsibility, sir. I will protect her with my life. If anyone wants to get to her, they'll have to step over my corpse."

Lowin snapped his fingers, the sound sharp as a gunshot. "Exactly. If anyone so much as touches a single strand of her hair, you already know how you're going to die."

"Yes, sir."

"It starts right now. Go."

Mark turned on his heel and exited the office, his expression hardened with determination.

Debrin watched the door close, crossing his arms. "Can you really trust Logan to play double agent?"

"He loves his family more than his own life," Lowin said flatly. "He'll do exactly what he's told."

Meanwhile, Tom was still standing in the corner of the room, his knees shaking so violently he could barely keep his balance. The sheer, suffocating pressure of these four men was completely overwhelming, and his brain was struggling to process the casual talk of kidnappings, double agents, and underground dungeons.

Dane noticed the trembling assistant and let out a soft laugh. "Dear assistant... you look incredibly pale. Is something wrong?"

Tom let out a high-pitched, incredibly nervous laugh, quickly adjusting his glasses. "N-nothing at all, sir! I'm completely fine!"

Debrin stood up, slowly walking over to Tom until he was hovering right over him. He leaned in close, a dangerous, teasing glint in his eyes. "You aren't secretly a mole too, are you, Mr. Assistant?

Lowin rolled his eyes, cutting in before his friends completely terrified the poor man. "Guys, leave him alone. Tom knows better than to ever open his mouth." He looked at his assistant. "You're dismissed, Tom."

Thank God, I can finally breathe, Tom thought frantically. He nodded vigorously, bowed at lightning speed, and practically flew out of the office.

Damien chuckled, watching him escape. "How has that guy managed to survive working for you all these years? He looks terrified of his own shadow."

"I trained him personally," Lowin said, a faint smile touching his lips. "Don't let the nerves fool you, Tom can handle himself when things get bloody. Now, let's get ready for my little sister's party."

Debrin stood up and stretched. "Let's go. I just hope we actually get a night of peace."

"A piece of advice," Dane added, checking the clip of the sleek firearm hidden beneath his tailored suit jacket. "Bring your guns. Just in case Justin decides to misbehave tonight."

"We're still cloning his phone, right?" Damien asked.

Lowin's eyes turned lethal. "Just do it. We need to grab every piece of data he has."

"Consider it done." Debrin smiled, walking toward the door.

"I guess tonight is finally the night we get to meet the future Mrs. Vance."

Lowin glared at him. "Come on, guys. Get out."

Debrin raised his hands in playful surrender, laughing as the three Salvatore brothers finally left the office.

Later that evening, the grand Vance estate was completely transformed. The massive grounds were bathed in the warm, golden glow of thousands of fairy lights and pristine floral arrangements, creating an atmosphere of pure luxury.

Elegant circular tables were scattered across the manicured lawns, each meticulously set for six guests with crystal wine glasses and bottles of the most expensive vintage wines money could buy.

The air was filled with clinking glasses and sophisticated laughter as the elite inner circle arrived. The crowd was a flawless mix of billionaires, powerful business partners, wealthy heirs, and Annah's glamorous inner circle of actors and models.

Among the guests, Victoria and Rose glided into the venue, both of them completely dolled up in haute couture gowns. They had spent hours getting ready for one singular, obsessive reason, to finally catch the attention of Lowin Vance.

Meanwhile, outside Amizee Trends, Annah Vance was standing frozen on the pavement, her mouth wide open and her eyes completely unblinking.

Amilah stood before her, looking like an absolute vision. She was wearing a stunning, custom-made maroon gown. The off-the-shoulder neckline exposed her delicate collarbones, while the heavy fabric hugged her hourglass curves flawlessly, tapering into a dangerously tiny waist before pooling around her feet. Her dark hair was styled up into a perfectly messy bun, with two soft, loose strands framing her face. She looked entirely heavenly, a walking, breathing temptation.

Amilah shifted uncomfortably under the intense stare, a faint blush creeping up her neck. "Is it... is it too much?" she asked nervously.

"Not at all," Annah breathed, finally blinking as a huge grin broke across her face. "Honestly, I think I'm falling in love with you right now. You look completely breathtaking."

Amilah laughed, her cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink. She extended her arms, handing over a beautifully wrapped garment box. "Happy birthday, Annah."

Annah gasped, looking at the box. "No, no, Amilah! I know how much work went into this gown. I absolutely have to pay you for it. I can't just take it as a gift."

"You are taking it, and I insist," Amilah said firmly, her eyes sparkling.

"But-"

"No buts, Annah. Just take it."

"Fine, you win!" Annah giggled, her heart completely melting. She checked her watch and gasped. "Okay, we have to move. I bet everyone at the estate is wondering where the hell the birthday girl is."

Annah hurriedly opened the passenger door for Amilah, then hopped into the driver's seat of her sports car, carefully placing her birthday gown in the back. Slamming her foot on the gas, she sped off into the night toward the Vance mansion completely unaware of the massive, catastrophic storm waiting for them just beyond the gates.