RUTHLESS DEVOTION: THE EMPIRE BETWEEN US

DISGUISED ESCAPE

The world around Amilah violently spun. She slammed both palms against the mahogany desk, her knuckles turning white as she fought to keep her knees from buckling.

Lyla bolted from the sofa, wrapping a steadying arm around Amilah's waist to guide her down into the leather chair. "What's wrong? Why aren't you answering the phone?"

Amilah didn't speak. Her chest heaved as she snatched up the phone, which was still buzzing aggressively against the dark wood. She swiped the screen with a trembling thumb and brought it to her ear.

"Who are you?" Amilah choked out, her voice fractured with fear.

A metallic, heavily distorted voice sliced through the receiver, sounding cold and mechanical.

"Amilah Miles. I finally get the pleasure of your attention," the man on the other end purred. "I advise you to follow the exact guidelines you just received. If you don't, your precious little assistant is dead."

Amilah's breath hitched, a suffocating dread wrapping around her throat.

"And just so we are clear," the voice continued, dripping with malice, "your doting boyfriend has a shadow security detail tracking your every breath, twenty-four hours a day. You're a smart girl, Amilah. Figure out a way to walk out of that f*****g building without them noticing. If you breathe a single word of this to anyone, I will let my men thoroughly enjoy themselves with your assistant before I put a bullet right between her eyes. If you want her alive, come to the location I'm about to send you. Alone."

The line clicked dead.

The silence that followed was deafening. Amilah's defenses completely shattered, and hot, tears finally spilled over her eyelashes.

Lyla's breath hitched at the sight of her tears. She reached down, snatching the phone from Amilah's limp fingers to check the incoming message.

It was a video file. Lyla tapped it open.

The screen illuminated, and Lyla gasped, her eyes widening in horror. On the video, Beryl was brutally tied to a wooden chair, her head hanging low as thick, dark blood dripped from the corner of her swollen mouth.

"We need to get Lowin right now," Lyla whispered frantically, her hands shaking as she held the phone.

Amilah stood up so abruptly her chair screeched against the floor. She lunged forward, grabbing Lyla's arm with a desperate, iron grip. "No! If you tell him, Beryl dies! I'm going. Don't tell a soul about this, Lyla, please!" she begged, the tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. "If they want me, they can have me. I'll go."

"Are you insane?!" Lyla fired back, her own voice cracking with sudden protective anger. "There is no way in hell I am letting you walk out of this building alone. I am coming with you. If you try to leave me behind, I'll panic, I'll ask for help, and I will end up putting both you and Beryl in danger."

Amilah shook her head violently. "I don't want you getting hurt like her! Please, Lyla, just listen to me!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't," Lyla growled softly, stepping closer until they were breathing the same air. "You are pregnant, Amilah."

"They explicitly said I have to go alone," Amilah cried, her voice dropping into a desperate whisper. "What if something happens to you because of me?"

Lyla's jaw set into a firm, unyielding line. "We will figure that out the second we get there."

Amilah aggressively wiped the tears from her face, realizing she could never break Lyla's stubborn resolve. She took a sharp, stabilizing breath. "How do we bypass the security?"

"I don't know," Lyla admitted, glancing toward the door. "The moment we step past the main desk, they'll notice us."

Amilah's gaze darted around the massive suite, her professional logic finally cutting through the panic. "I have an idea."

She grabbed the electronic remote from her desk and hit a button. Instantly, the smart glass walls of her office frosted over, turning completely opaque and shielding them from the creative floor. Next, she pressed the desk intercom, connecting straight to Diana's station.

"Diana," Amilah said, forcing her voice to sound calm and authoritative. "Please ensure I am not disturbed under any circumstances. I am deep in the zone working on the summer collection sketches."

"Of course, Ms. Miles," Diana's voice chirped back. "I'll let the rest of the floor know."

Amilah cut the intercom, turning to Lyla.

"What now?" Lyla whispered.

"We wait until the entire floor goes for their coffee break," Amilah said, checking the heavy Rolex on her wrist. It was exactly 10:10 AM. Lowin's board meeting had officially started ten minutes ago. Within moments, the creative assistants would clear out to hit the employee café.

Amilah paced the length of the frosted office, her mind spiraling into a dark abyss. Who the hell are they? What do they actually want from me? Victoria was physically accounted for on this floor, so it couldn't be her. Amilah desperately racked her brain, trying to think of a single soul she had offended, but her past was clean.

Lyla stepped into her path, grabbing her hands. "Calm down, Amilah. You cannot subject your body to this kind of stress right now. I promise you, we are going to get her out of there alive."

"This is entirely my fault," Amilah sobbed, her fingers trembling. "I don't know what I did, but she is bleeding in that chair because of me." She stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over Lowin's contact. The urge to call her baby daddy was suffocating. No. She couldn't risk those monsters discovering a leak. She couldn't gamble with Beryl's life.

"Just breathe, okay?" Lyla murmured, her eyes holding her steady. "We will navigate this. Maybe they just want a massive ransom. The second we arrive, we can find a way to alert Lowin, and he can give them whatever the hell they want."

"But what if it's not about money?" Amilah whispered, the dark thought hanging heavily in the air.

"Let's not focus on the dark what-ifs," Lyla urged. "Let's focus entirely on making sure Beryl stays alive."

Amilah gave a tight, sharp nod. She walked over to the edge of the frosted glass, peeling a tiny corner open to peer out onto the floor. The desks were entirely empty. The coffee break had cleared the department.

She snatched her purse, her fingers wrapping tight around Lyla's wrist. "Let's move. They're gone."

"We can't just stroll out into the corridor," Lyla panicked, her heels clicking as she resisted. "Julian is stationed somewhere in this building. The second his eyes lock onto me, he will shadow us."

"Don't worry. Just do exactly as I do."

They slipped out of the silent department, dodging the main elevator bays, and ducked into the industrial janitor's supply closet down the hallway. Amilah reached into the metal bins, pulling out two heavy, oversized canvas utility aprons. She threw one to Lyla. "Put it on."

Lyla looked down at her premium designer dress. "What about my clothes?"

Amilah slapped her forehead in frustration, grabbing a heavy plastic bin liner from the shelf and handing it over. "Strip it off and shove it in here. We will find a place to change the second we step out of this building. Moving with frantic speed, the two women stripped out of their high-end attire, slid into the coarse janitorial uniforms, and stuffed their clothes into the bags. They pulled the low-brim industrial caps over their eyes, grabbed the handles of two heavy, metallic utility carts, and pushed them out into the executive corridor.

Lyla's breath was ragged as they approached the private elevators. "Are you absolutely sure about this?"

"The security detail at the main gates won't stand the chemical stink of these trash carts," Amilah whispered sharply, her chest heaving under the canvas apron. "They'll wave us through the checkpoint just to get us out of their sight."

"I'm not talking about the lobby," Lyla whispered back, pointing to the elevator panel. "This is the executive elevator. The janitorial staff strictly uses the freight elevator in the rear."

"Lowin is locked in that boardroom with every single senior director in this empire," Amilah reasoned, hitting the button. "I am positive no one is tracking this shaft right now."

The doors chimed open, and they pushed the heavy carts inside. But as the lift began to glide downward, a sudden flash of panic hit Amilah's chest. "Wait. We aren't going through the main lobby. The security cameras down there are too sharp. We're taking this straight to the underground parking garage."

Lyla's hands began to shake violently against the handle of her cart. The reality of the dark danger was finally crashing into her. "Amilah... how about we just call Julian? He can follow us from a distance."

"Lyla, please!" Amilah turned to her, her eyes flashing with a desperate, raw fear. "If you are terrified, I am too! But Beryl is my family. I cannot ignore their direct commands and recklessly drag a Salvatore enforcer into their trap. If you want to pull out, drop the cart and stay behind. But I swear to God, you cannot breathe a single word of this to anyone."

Lyla stared at her, her lower lip trembling. "If I stay behind, I know damn well I won't be able to keep my mouth shut when Debrin comes looking for me. Even if I am terrified out of my mind... I am coming with you."

They lunged forward, pulling each other into a fierce, breathless hug just as the elevator ground to a violent halt.

They yanked their caps low and pushed the carts out into the dimly lit concrete expanse of the underground garage.

Inside a blacked-out surveillance SUV parked near the rows of executive vehicles, Mark clicked his tongue in deep annoyance.

"Those janitors really have some f*****g nerves today," Mark grumbled, leaning his head against the headrest. "Why the hell are they using the private executive shaft to take out trash?"

Logan didn't look up from his laptop, his fingers rapidly scrolling through the live security feeds of the empire's main entrance gates. "Just let them be, man. All the high-ranking executives are completely locked down in the boardroom right now anyway, so it's not a big deal."

"Yeah, but they're going to have to scrub that interior layout later," Mark muttered. He threw his door open and slid out of the passenger seat, stretching his legs. As the two disguised women pushed the squeaking carts past the front bumper of his SUV, Mark stepped into their path.

"Hey. You two. Stop right there."

Amilah and Lyla froze in panic. Amilah slowly turned her head, keeping her chin tucked flat against her chest so the brim of her cap shielded her face.

"Yes, sir?" Amilah whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the garage ventilation.

Mark crossed his arms, scanning the heavy carts. "Make sure you completely scrub that executive lift down the second you're done dumping that load. Understand?"

Amilah nodded rapidly, refusing to make eye contact.

"Good. Get moving."

They turned and quickly pushed the carts toward the service exit. Mark tilted his head, his sharp eyes tracking the rhythmic sway of Amilah's stride as she walked away. A sudden, violent wave of familiarity struck his instincts. He shook his head, a frown settling on his face as he walked back to the driver's side of his SUV.

Logan looked up as the door slammed. "What's wrong with you?"

"Are those two girls new on the cleaning roster?" Mark asked, his brow furrowing.

"How the hell should I know that, dude?" Logan scoffed.

"I don't know, man..." Mark muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as his gut twisted. "I feel like I've definitely seen one of them somewhere before. I couldn't catch a clear look at their faces under those caps, but something about their forms feels entirely familiar."

Logan let out a loud laugh. "You are being completely paranoid right now, Mark. What the hell is up with you today?"

"Forget about it," Mark snapped, shaking off the unease. "I'm heading up to the lounge to grab a coffee."

"Get me one too," Logan called out as Mark walked away.

The moment Amilah and Lyla cleared the service exit and stepped into the blinding mid morning sun, they abandoned the utility carts in an alleyway. They sprinted across the busy avenue, completely avoiding the main corporate entrance, and slipped into a high-end fashion boutique down the block.

Locking themselves inside the private fitting rooms, they frantically tore off the canvas aprons and changed back into their clothes. They hurried back out onto the street, Amilah frantically raising her arm until a yellow cab pulled up to the curb. They threw themselves into the backseat.

Amilah read the exact digital coordinates from the anonymous text message. "Take us here. Now."

The driver glanced at the remote coordinates on his map, frowned, and hit the meter. The cab pulled away from the curb, heading straight out of the city limits.

Inside the quiet backseat, Amilah and Lyla held hands, their grips so tight. They didn't speak. They simply stared out the windows, reinforcing each other with a single, goal in mind, rescue Beryl at all costs.

The cab drove for nearly an hour, the pristine asphalt of the highway slowly dissolving into cracked, dusty dirt roads. The towering glass skyscrapers vanished, replaced by an endless, barren expanse of deserted wilderness. Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes, pulling the vehicle to a sharp stop by a patch of dead brush. He turned around in his seat, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"Look, ladies, if I keep driving any further down this ruined road, I'm going to shred my tires," the driver complained, waving his hand toward the exit. "Please get out. I cannot go further into this desert."

Amilah and Lyla stepped out onto the hot, dusty dirt road. The cab instantly pulled a U-turn, kicking up a massive cloud of dust as it sped back toward the safety of the city, leaving them completely stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Lyla looked around the vast, empty landscape, her breathing shallow. "What the hell do we do now, Amilah?"

"We just keep walking," Amilah whispered, clutching her purse to her chest as she stepped forward.

Lyla heaved a massive, exhausted sigh, her heels sinking into the loose dirt. "What a beautiful day to start a corporate career," she muttered ironically.

Amilah stopped, her eyes filling with genuine guilt as she looked at her friend. "I am so sorry, Lyla. I dragged you straight into this nightmare."

Lyla instantly shook her head, stepping up to lock her arm through Amilah's. "You don't ever have to apologize to me, Amilah. I want to help get Beryl out of that chair just as badly as you do. Let's move."

They walked for almost thirty minutes under the baking sun. There was zero sign of life, no cars, no buildings, and no people. The wilderness was completely deserted. Their legs throbbed with a burning ache, their high heels never designed to navigate miles of rugged, unpaved terrain.

Lyla winced, shifting her weight. "We seriously should have stolen those janitors' rubber boots before we left. My feet are killing me."

Suddenly, a low, roaring rumble echoed from the horizon. Amilah snapped her head around, spotting a massive black SUV tearing through the dirt toward them, kicking up a violent storm of dust.

Amilah instantly raised her arms, waving them frantically in the air.

Lyla jolted, pulling her arm back. "Amilah, what the hell are you doing?!"

"We can ask them for directions," Amilah panted, her throat dry. "Maybe we took a wrong turn."

The black SUV screeched to a violent halt directly in front of them, the heavy doors instantly flying open. Five massive, heavily armed men stepped out onto the dirt road, their faces completely cold.

Jacob stepped forward, a wicked, triumphant smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes locked onto her.

"Get into the vehicle, Ms. Miles."

Amilah and Lyla stumbled backward in confusion, their defenses instantly returning.

Amilah's heart hammered against her ribs. "How... how do you know my name?"

Jacob let out a low, dark chuckle, his predatory eyes sizing both women up and down with an unsettling intensity. "Your little assistant is currently waiting for you inside, beautiful. Please, just climb in the back. Else... we are going to have to use force to make you comply."

Amilah and Lyla clamped their hands together, their grips white-hot as they stood their ground against the wolves.

Jacob's expression instantly turned ice-cold, his patience evaporating. He took a step closer, his voice dropping into a dark register. "Do not waste my f*****g time. And who the hell is she?"

"She is just a friend!" Amilah yelled, her voice raw as she fiercely pulled Lyla behind her. "She has nothing to do with this!"

Jacob's face contorted, his patience completely snapping. "She is here on this dirt road, so there is no way in hell I am letting her walk away!" he roared, the volume of his voice making both women jolt. "Get in the f*****g car while I'm still being nice!"

Recognizing the lethal edge in his tone, Amilah and Lyla reluctantly stepped into the back of the SUV. The moment the doors slammed shut, Jacob smoothly slid thick, black cloths over their faces, plunging their world into darkness. The heavy engine roared, and the vehicle took a sharp, violent turn, driving deeper into the deserted outskirts of the city.

An hour later, the SUV ground to a halt. The black cloths were violently ripped from their faces, and both women were roughly pushed out onto the gravel driveway of an abandoned mansion.

The estate was heavily guarded by armed men patrolling the perimeter. The building itself was ancient, covered in structural cracks and layer upon layer of decay, though it was clear the interior floors had been recently and meticulously scrubbed clean. Jacob gripped their upper arms, forcefully pushing the massive double doors open and shoving Amilah and Lyla into the echoing foyer.

Amilah stumbled, her eyes frantically scanning the dark corridors. "Where is Beryl?!"

Jacob offered a dark, mocking chuckle. "Don't worry she isn't dead yet."

"Yet?!" Amilah breathed, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"If you behave yourself, she lives," Jacob whispered coldly, nudging her forward. "That is up to you."

He walked them down a long, damp hallway, leading them straight into a spacious room that resembled a rotting, old library. Standing at the far end of the room was a massive, broad-shouldered man. He was facing away from them, his hands casually shoved into his pockets as he stared out a floor-to-ceiling glass window.

Amilah's breath instantly hitched. The familiar set of those shoulders, the towering height, and the posture made her heart skip a violent beat. Lowin? The desperate thought flared in her mind. Did he escape the meeting?

"Boss?" Jacob announced, bowing his head.

The man slowly turned around, a soft, malicious chuckle escaping his lips.

"Hey there, little bird," Justin Vance whispered, a wicked smile spreading across his face.

Amilah and Lyla's jaws fell open in horror.

Lyla's mind raced as she instantly connected the dots. Justin Vance. A cold, suffocating dread filled her entire being. This wasn't a random abduction for corporate leverage or a demand for money. This was bloodthirsty revenge and they had walked right into the lion's den without a single weapon to protect themselves.

Meanwhile, far away from the rotting mansion, the executive boardroom of the Vance Empire was a battleground of a different kind. Lowin Vance stood at the head of the long mahogany table, his towering frame casting a dark shadow over the directors. His voice was a deep, dangerous rumble as he laid out the savage terms of his leadership, his mind entirely consumed by the corporate war to protect his throne.

He was focused and utterly unyielding. But behind that stone-faced alpha mask, a restless fire was burning. Every single cell in his body was aching for the exact second this agonizing meeting would end. He kept thinking about his little bird sitting just a few floors below him in her design suite, happily eating the breakfast he had ordered for her.

He couldn't wait to walk out of these doors, slide straight down to her office, and taste her sweet lips. He was completely blinded by the walls around him and he had no idea that right now, his woman and his unborn child were no longer safely inside his corporate tower. They were miles away in the dirt, trapped in the hands of his twin brother.

Justin had them. And Lowin was entirely in the dark.