RUTHLESS DEVOTION: THE EMPIRE BETWEEN US

GONE MISSING

Amilah stared at the man standing before her, her world fracturing into terror. The exact second the word little bird rolled off his tongue, she knew. This wasn't Lowin, It couldn't be. When Lowin said it, the name carried a dark, suffocating sweetness, a fierce possessiveness that made her chest tighten. From this man's mouth, it sounded like a toxic insult.

Her heart hammered violently against her ribs. He looked exactly like him. A mirror image. But neither Lowin nor Annah had ever dropped a single hint about a twin. A blinding headache began to throb behind her temples. Did that shameless beast keep this a secret from me again?

Justin shattered the silence, taking a slow, predatory step forward. He closed the gap between them, leaning down so close his hot breath grazed the shell of her ear. "I have to admit... I finally see exactly why my brother is so obsessed with you, Ms. Miles. You are absolutely gorgeous."

Amilah flinched, glaring a hole straight through his chest. Justin merely smirked, lifting his hands in mock surrender as he stepped back.

"I want to see Beryl," Amilah demanded, her voice shaking but laced with steel.

"Relax, beautiful," Justin purred, crossing his arms. "Let me introduce myself properly first."

"I'm not interested."

Justin's smirk vanished, his dark eyes narrowing. "I distinctly recall telling you to walk out of that corporate tower alone, Amilah. Why the hell did you bring baggage with you?"

Lyla lifted her chin, her eyes flashing with defiance as she stepped into the light. "I happened to be standing right there when your distorted call came through. So cut the corporate bullshit, Vance, and tell us exactly what you want."

Justin let out a sharp, mocking sigh. "God, I truly hate women. You all talk way too much." He turned his cold gaze toward the doorway. "Jacob tie them both down. And bring that useless little boutique assistant inside."

Jacob didn't waste a second. He violently dragged two heavy wooden chairs into the center of the rotting library. He shoved both Amilah and Lyla down into the seats, wrapping thick hemp ropes around their torsos and binding their wrists until the coarse fibers bit into their skin.

Amilah stared at him through the shadows. "So... you're his brother."

Justin raised his dark brows, thoroughly delighted by her realization. He snapped his fingers, pulling a third chair forward to sit directly in front of them, his knees nearly brushing Amilah's.

"Exactly," Justin smiled, a maniacal gleam in his eyes. "I'm Justin Vance. Lowin's twin brother. And it is an absolute, breathtaking pleasure to finally meet you, sister-in-law. Forgive the gritty hospitality, but I am just so incredibly thrilled by the fact that my brother is never going to see your face again."

Amilah let out a sudden, cold laugh.

Justin froze, thoroughly taken aback by her reaction. His jaw tightened.

"You are such a pathetic coward, Mr. Vance," Amilah whispered, a mocking smirk playing on her lips. "Now I finally understand exactly why Lowin makes my heart race... and why you don't. Do you want to know why?"

Justin scoffed, his fragile, psychotic ego cracking instantly under her words. "I don't give a damn."

"I'll tell you anyway," Amilah pressed, her motherly instincts flaring as she leaned forward against the ropes. "You will never, ever be anything close to the man Lowin Vance is. He is a thousand times better than you in every single definition of the word. Look at you. You have to resort to abducting defenseless women just to feel a shred of power, instead of facing your brother head-on. You are terrified of him, aren't you?"

Rage exploded across Justin's face. He lunged backward, grabbing a roll of heavy black industrial tape from the desk behind him. Moving with violent speed, he slammed a thick strip directly over Amilah's mouth, cutting off her words.

"I can see my brother hasn't properly tamed you yet," Justin hissed, his breathing ragged as he stared down at her. "You have a sharp tongue."

Amilah glared back at him through her lashes, her chest heaving. This lunatic must have hit his head at birth. He didn't behave like a Vance at all. Jared, Daniella, Annah they were all fiercely protective, welcoming, and warm. But this creature was a monster.

The heavy double doors of the library suddenly burst open.

Beryl's limp, weak body was violently thrown across the floorboards. She rolled to a stop right in front of their chairs, her skin covered in dark, weeping bruises. Her arms, legs, and face were swollen, her clothes torn and dusted with dirt.

Amilah and Lyla let out muffled gasps of horror, their eyes widening as they stared down at her ruined form.

"She had a sharp tongue just like you, Amilah," Justin chuckled softly, circling the room. "So she had to be properly broken. Don't worry since you kept your end of the bargain and showed up, I'm a man of my word. I'll let her go. But unfortunately... I'm highly positive she won't make it back to the city limits crawling on her knees. She'll die in the sun long before she ever sees asphalt again."

Amilah's heart completely shattered inside her chest. Tears of raw agony scalded her eyes, tracking down her cheeks. This is all my fault, her mind screamed. If she had never associated with the Vance family, Beryl would be safe inside her boutique right now.

Beside her, Lyla was silently praying for a miracle. It was blindingly obvious Beryl was on the brink of collapse; she looked too weak to survive. How the hell are we going to get help?

"Jacob, throw the trash out," Justin commanded, waving his hand in disgust. "Let her try to find her way back to the city before the sun goes down."

"Yes, sir." Jacob stepped forward, violently grabbing Beryl by her thick hair and dragging her limp body across the wooden floor, out into the corridor.

Amilah squeezed her eyes shut, a sharp, physical pain rising in her chest. First Victoria and now Justin's revenge, all because of the dangerous man she was falling in love with, day by day.

Justin walked over, pulling a silk handkerchief from his pocket to tenderly wipe the tears from her face. Amilah didn't even have the strength to protest. She just sat there, staring at his features. Everything about his face reminded her of Lowin.

A sudden, crushing regret pierced her soul. I should have told him last night, she thought, her chest aching. I should have told him I loved him. They were supposed to be going on an official date tonight. Instead, she was locked in a cage with his shadow.

Justin reached down and violently ripped the black tape from her lips, making her wince out loud as the adhesive tore her skin.

"You and Lowin aren't officially married yet, right?" Justin asked, tilting his head.

Amilah didn't respond. She just stared at him with cold, unforgiving eyes.

"Funny," Justin mocked, leaning in. "You were talking endlessly just a few minutes ago. Now you've gone completely mute?"

"There is no point in engaging in a conversation with you, Mr. Vance," Amilah whispered, her voice dripping with ice. "You are completely brainless."

Justin's chest boiled with a sudden, explosive fury. He stepped into her space and landed a hot, brutal slap directly across Amilah's cheek. The raw force sent her head swinging violently to the side.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Lyla shrieked, thrashing against her ropes.

Justin whipped his head around, his eyes wild. "Shut the f**k up, b***h! Who the hell even are you?!"

"She's my friend!" Amilah yelled, her voice raw as she tried to shield Lyla with her gaze. "Leave her out of this!"

Lyla didn't back down. She glared at the psychopath, her voice steady . "For your information, Mr. Vance... you committed the biggest mistake of your life the moment your men dragged me into this room."

Justin let out a loud, maniacal laugh that echoed eerily off the high bookshelves of the library. "Oh? What, are you some secret rich heiress or something? Listen to me carefully, I don't give a damn who you are. What I do know is that your pathetic life is currently resting entirely in Amilah's hands. If she doesn't do exactly what I ask her to do... you're a dead woman."

"Why are you doing all of this?" Amilah sobbed, the tears finally running uncontrollably down her burning cheek.

"I hate Lowin Vance to the very core of my soul!" Justin roared, his composure completely fracturing as he slammed his fist against the desk. "The bastard took everything that belonged to me and left me with absolutely nothing! Even my own flesh and blood turned against me just to support his throne! So now, it is my turn to strip away every single thing he loves."

Amilah scoffed through her tears, her voice hollow. "And you honestly think by doing this, you will win?"

"I just want to watch him fall completely helpless," Justin whispered, a sick, twisted smile returning to his lips. "I want to hear him beg for mercy while he's trapped in my hands."

Amilah shook her head. "You'll die long before he ever falls, Justin."

Justin leaned down, his eyes locked onto hers with a chilling, psychotic promise. "And before I die... I'll make sure you die right along with me."

Outside the heavy wooden doors of the old mansion, Beryl hit the rough concrete pavement with a dull thud. She tried to force her knees to lock, but her body completely gave away, sending her crashing back down into the dirt.

I have to get out of here, her mind panted through the fog of pain. I have to find help.

She looked down the long, sweeping driveway, but her vision was spinning violently. She didn't even know which direction led to the city grid. Darkness threatened to swallow her whole, her eyelids heavy as lead.

No, she told herself, forcing her teeth to grind together. She refused to lose consciousness out here. Gathering every single ounce of raw courage left in her bruised body, Beryl dragged herself back up to her feet. Staggering like a ghost, she managed to stumble past the rusted iron gates of the estate.

The second her feet hit the dusty, unpaved desert road under the scorching afternoon sun, her legs completely failed. She collapsed hard into the dirt.

The heat was suffocating. Her eyelids flickered, threatening to close permanently, but she forced them open. Amilah was trapped inside that house because of her. She had to make it.

Shaking violently, Beryl began to crawl through the dust. The burning, white-hot sand scorched her raw skin, bruising her palms and knees even further, but she endured the agony. Amilah had walked straight into a monster's trap just to rescue her and now that she was free, she refused to lie down and die in this desert.

Far across the city limits, inside a secluded hotel room, Victor was pacing a hole into the carpet.

For the first time in twelve consecutive years of service, Justin Vance had given him a mandatory day off. And to Victor, that was more terrifying than a death sentence. Is the lunatic suspicious of me? he thought, his pulse racing. No, that's impossible. I haven't left a single trace of a leak.

Victor cursed violently under his breath, his predatory curiosity finally getting the better of him. He had to find out what Justin was executing behind his back. And the only way to unearth the truth was to head straight to that abandoned mansion on the outskirts.

He snatched his car keys off the counter, loaded his heavy firearm, and carefully tucked it into the small of his back beneath his jeans. He threw on a dark hoodie and strode out of the room.

Thirty minutes later, Victor's sedan tore through the desert highway. As he neared the coordinates of the old mansion, he killed the engine, abandoning the car safely behind a thick thicket of brush. He pulled the black hood low over his face, moving down the dusty road with quick, cautious steps.

Suddenly, his boots froze against the dirt.

A series of faint, painful sobs echoed from behind a dense patch of desert brush just off the road. Victor's instincts flared. He instantly drew his weapon, moving with silent precision toward the thick weeds. He cleared the branches, his gun raised and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Ple... ple... please don't hur... hurt me," Beryl whimpered, her body trembling violently as she tried to shield her bloody face with her hands.

Victor quickly withdrew his weapon, sliding it back into his waistband as he dropped to his knees beside her ruined form. She had been beaten up so badly.

"Fuck..." Victor growled, a heavy dread hitting his gut. He needed to get this girl to an emergency room immediately. But if he did, Justin would know he had breached the perimeter. He violently slammed his fist against a nearby rock, cursing the universe for forcing him to cross paths with this dying girl.

Without wasting another second, Victor scooped her fragile body up into his powerful arms, spinning around to sprint back toward his hidden car.

"Hang in there," Victor growled, his breathing heavy as he reached the sedan and threw her into the passenger seat. "I'm getting you to a hospital."

Beryl weakly lifted her head, her swollen lips parting as she choked out a final, desperate word. "Ami... Amilah..."

Before she could finish the sentence, the darkness finally won. Her head fell backward against the headrest, her eyes rolling back as she lost consciousness completely.

"s**t! s**t!" Victor roared, slamming his palms against the steering wheel. "Miss, stay awake! Hang in there, please!"

He slammed his foot onto the gas pedal, the tires screaming as the sedan tore out of the desert dust, speeding toward the city limits. He pounded the wheel over and over again, his chest heaving with fury as he cursed Justin's psychotic name into the wind.

At a bustling downtown movie set, the heavy studio lights finally dimmed. Annah Vance let out a bright cheer the exact second the director shouted that the production crew could wrap up early for the afternoon.

She couldn't wait to see Amilah and Lyla. She checked the heavy gold watch on her wrist. 2:00 PM.

"Well, well, well..." Annah giggled to herself, tossing her designer bag into the passenger seat of her low-slung sports car. "Looks like I get to surprise my favorite sisters an hour earlier than planned."

She fired up the engine, the exhaust note echoing off the studio walls as she tore out of the lot, completely unaware that she was driving straight into the first wave of a catastrophic storm.

Annah pulled up to a bakery down the block, picking out a vanilla cake for her friends before sliding back into the driver's seat. She navigated the traffic, the pristine sports car weaving smoothly toward the towering skyscraper of the Vance Empire.

Minutes later, Annah's sports car came to a sudden halt outside the main valet deck of the corporate tower. She carelessly tossed the key to the waiting security guard, smoothing down her outfit as she pushed through the heavy rotating glass doors. The employees stationed at the main lobby checkpoints instantly offered slight bows as she passed. She ignored the attention, making her way directly to the private executive elevator bay, entirely eager to see the shock on Amilah's face when she walked into her suite an hour earlier than they had planned.

The elevator doors chimed open on the fashion floor. Annah stepped out onto the marble floor, hopping slightly as she swung the nicely wrapped box cake in her hand.

Tom looked up from his station. "Good afternoon, Miss Vance."

"Afternoon, Tom," Annah beamed, her eyes sparkling. "I hope Amilah is inside her office."

"Yeah, of course, ma'am."

"Okay, see ya."

Annah walked straight into the bustling fashion department. The second her heels clicked across the floor, the design assistants and stylists squealed in pure happiness. It was a beautiful day they were getting to see the famous Annah Vance in person, a woman they usually only watched on high-end TV shows. Annah offered them a sweet, practiced smile, walking across the creative space toward Amilah's private office doors.

She pushed the glass door open, lifting the wrapped cake into the air to surprise her sister-in-law.

The words died in her throat.

She was met by a completely empty room. The desk was bare, the space quiet, save for the lingering aroma of the roasted chicken Tom had ordered earlier that morning.

Annah's brow furrowed. Did she just step out to the restroom? She walked over to the massive desk, placed the cake box down, and slammed herself onto the plush leather sofa. She pulled out her phone, hitting Amilah's speed dial. The phone rang continuously into the quiet space, but nobody answered.

Where the hell was she? Annah glanced around, realizing she couldn't spot Lyla either. Why would Amilah leave her food completely unattended like this? Silly girl, Annah thought. She stood back up, pushed the glass doors open, and stepped out onto the main floor. She cleared her throat loudly.

"Has anyone seen Ms. Miles?"

The surrounding employees looked up from their sketches, thoroughly confused.

Diana adjusted her papers. "She is right in there, ma'am. She hasn't left her suite since this morning."

"No, she is not," Annah said, a sudden knot of confusion tightening in her stomach. She pulled out her phone, dialing the number a second time. This time, the ringing cut off instantly, the call going straight to a cold voicemail.

Victoria didn't do anything again, did she?

A sudden, sharp wave of panic flared inside her chest. Annah's voice turned lethal. "Where the hell is Victoria?!"

Diana shifted uncomfortably. "She is currently organizing the basement storage room, ma'am. Ms. Miles gave her some direct work to haul up the cargo packages."

Annah let out a heavy, ragged sigh of relief, shaking the dark thoughts from her head. She turned and went straight to see Tom.

Tom was locked inside his private office, finalizing the audit metrics on his screen.

Annah burst through the door. "Where is Ms. Miles, Tom?"

Tom stood up instantly, nervously adjusting his glasses against his nose. "In her office, ma'am."

"Are you all completely crazy?!" Annah snapped, her voice rising in pitch. "The office is entirely empty! Lyla isn't there either!"

Tom blinked. "Maybe she just stepped out for a moment. Did you check the employee lounge?"

"She isn't replying to my calls either," Annah hissed, her fingers clenching her phone.

Tom's face went pale. Panic struck his chest. She couldn't have left the building without security logging her out, which meant she had to still be somewhere inside the perimeter.

Without wasting another second, Tom quickly alerted Mark and Logan via his secure comms. The two shadow enforcers came rushing inside the main department, their breathing heavy, with Julian following closely behind them.

Mark stormed into the room. "What do you mean she is not in her office?"

"Like the office is completely empty, you i***t!" Annah yelled, her eyes flashing with terror. "There's nothing but roasted chicken on the desk!"

Tom froze, his jaw dropping. "What?! That was her breakfast. How comes she didn't even eat ?"

"Are you seriously asking me?!" Annah roared, her chest heaving. "f*****g find out where she is right now!"

The group turned on their heels, bolting down the corridor toward the heavily armored control room. They slammed the heavy doors open, gathering around Logan as his fingers flew across the keyboard, frantically searching every single corner of the building via the high-res live security feeds.

Julian stood at the back of the console, his entire body already trembling with a violent dread. If a single hair on Lyla's head was harmed, he was a f*****g dead man the second Debrin Salvatore stepped out of that boardroom.

Logan's mouse suddenly froze. He stared at the monitor, his throat shifting as he swallowed. "I don't see her... she is not in the f*****g building."

Mark leaned over his shoulder, his eyes wide. "What?!"

Logan rapidly adjusted the search parameter, dragging the digital video feed back to the early morning hours. They tracked her every single movement across the timeline. The camera feed played out in front of them, and the scene that unfolded sent the entire control room into a suffocating, pin-drop silence.

Amilah and Lyla were on the screen. They were exiting the executive elevator, completely disguised as canvas-aproned janitors, pushing heavy trash carts past the SUV.

The timestamp read 10:20 AM and It was already 2:30 PM.

Nobody had noticed. Nobody had clocked that the two women in the empire were no longer inside the building. Four f*****g hours had passed, and they had absolutely zero idea where they were.

Logan dropped the mouse, his hand slipping as he leaned heavily against the back of the leather chair. A cold, paralyzing horror filled every single inch of his body.

"We are dead..." Logan whispered, his voice trembling as he stared at the frozen image of the trash carts. "We just let Mrs. Vance walk right out of this garage this morning... assuming they were common janitors. We are f*****g dead."

Mark held his head in both hands, shaking it back and forth in utter disbelief. He slammed his fist against the console desk. "I told you, you i***t! I told you something about their stride looked familiar, but you f*****g said I was being paranoid!"

Annah's legs completely failed her. The weight of the realization struck her like a physical blow, and she collapsed straight onto the floorboards, hot tears running uncontrollably down her face.

Julian stood completely motionless next to Tom, his gaze fixed on the screen. The room was heavy with the silence of ghosts. Every single man in that room was trying to process the fallout, knowing fully well that a countdown had just begun to their premature deaths.