RUTHLESS DEVOTION: THE EMPIRE BETWEEN US

ELITE SISTERHOOD

Half an hour later, Julian rolled the luxury sedan to a stop directly outside Amizee Trends.

The second Amilah stepped onto the sun-drenched pavement, her entire body went rigid. Her eyes locked on a towering, sharp-jawed silhouette lingering near the boutique's glass entrance.

"Why is he here?" Amilah murmured, a sudden chill striking her spine.

Lyla paused beside her, adjusting her sunglasses. "Who?"

"That guy," Amilah whispered, her breath caught in her throat. "I met him a few weeks ago at the airport terminal. He was so persistent about giving me a ride home that I finally just agreed to get him out of my face."

Lyla let out a soft giggle. "Well... maybe he tracked you down because he's dying to see you again."

Amilah rolled her eyes. "He talks too much. Come on, let's turn around and wait until he leaves."

Before they could slide back toward the car, Mike Houston turned. The moment his eyes landed on Amilah's striking, hourglass curves, a classic playboy smirk spread across his lips. He strode over with long, predatory steps.

"We meet again, beautiful," Mike drawled smoothly.

Without warning, his heavy arms threw wide, forcefully pulling Amilah directly against his chest for a lingering, tight embrace.

Directly across the two-lane street, a blacked-out surveillance SUV sat idly by the curb. Logan took a sharp gulp of his soft drink and immediately choked, coughing violently as the liquid sprayed.

Mark didn't look up from his phone, adjusting his earpiece. "You are annoying, Logan."

Logan's eyes were wide with pure horror. He slammed his fist against Mark's shoulder.

"What the hell is it now?" Mark snapped, shifting his gaze.

Logan pointed a trembling finger through the heavily tinted glass toward the boutique entrance. Mark tracked the line of sight, his jaw dropping instantly.

"Holy shit..." Mark breathed, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck. "Who the f**k is that guy?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?!" Logan hissed back.

A sharp knock against the passenger window startled both men. They jilted in their seats. Outside the dark glass stood a massive man, casually using a single finger to signal them to roll the window down.

Mark's right hand dropped instantly, his fingers wrapping around the cold grip of his concealed firearm. He cracked the glass down an inch.

"Is this how you idiots keep your big boss's woman safe?" Julian asked smoothly, his eyes hidden behind dark shades.

Mark glared at him. "Who the f**k are you?"

Logan leaned over, his voice tight. "Mark, drop the gun. That's Julian. Debrin Salvatore's right hand."

Julian let out a low, dry chuckle. "Good. At least one of you has a brain. Now, what do you two plan on doing about that little spectacle across the street? Because if Lowin Vance finds out about another man holding his woman from anyone else but you... you two are dead men by sunset."

Mark rubbed the bridge of his nose, his chest heaving as he reluctantly pulled out his encrypted surveillance phone. "Mind your own business, dude. We'll handle it."

"You better," Julian murmured, leaning closer to the gap. "And just for your information... that playboy over there is Mike Houston. Jade Houston's son."

Logan let out a string of violent curses under his breath. "Do they... do they actually know each other?"

"How should I know?" Julian shrugged, entirely unfazed. "I just came to drop the ladies off and spotted your amateur stakeout. Your shadow security is so obvious to someone like me, I bet Justin's scouts have already clocked your perimeter."

"Go away, man," Mark snapped, lifting his phone. "We're on it."

"Good luck," Julian smirked, turning on his heel.

Mark didn't waste another second. He raised the high-res camera lens, snapped a photo of Mike Houston holding Amilah flush against his body, and hit send directly to Lowin Vance's private line.

"Uh... let me go. Please," Amilah gasped, her voice tightening as she forcefully shoved her palms against Mike's heavy chest, breaking his grip.

Mike let go, but his eyes remained intensely locked on her face. "I missed you, Amilah."

"Why are you here, Mike?"

"The staff inside said you weren't around, so I was actually just about to give up and leave," Mike grinned, his tone smooth and dripping with practiced charm. "And then, luckily, here you are. I'm seriously starting to believe this is fate."

Amilah rolled her eyes internally, her defenses instantly rising. "Okay. How can I help you?"

"I actually came down here to ask you out for a proper lunch. If you don't mind, of course."

"I'm sorry, but I already have plans," Amilah stated flatly.

Mike winced dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch. Is that an official rejection, beautiful?"

"I have plans with my friends," Amilah clarified, stepping back toward her companion. "Mike, this is my close friend, Lyla."

Mike's gaze shifted to the quiet, breathtaking woman standing right behind Amilah. He extended a hand, his playboy smile widening. "Mike Houston."

Lyla's eyes flew wide open, a sudden wave of panic freezing the blood in her veins. Houston. The name hit her like a physical blow. The media had been exploding for days, Lowin Vance was under investigation for the murder of the billionaire tycoon, Jade Houston. Is this guy here to take revenge on Amilah? she thought frantically.

Lyla reluctantly shook his hand, her grip tight and guarded. "Nice to meet you... you're Jade Houston's son?"

Mike's eyes darkened a second before the smirk returned. "Of course. You must be from around here to recognize that name so fast."

"Well, yeah..." Lyla said quickly, pulling her hand back and stepping between him and her friend. "We are deeply sorry for your loss... but my friend and I have an exclusive appointment, so she cannot join you for lunch today."

Mike raised his hands in mock surrender. "Oh, wow too bad." He looked past Lyla, his eyes locking back onto Amilah. "I'll see you some other time, beautiful."

"Okay," Amilah murmured, desperate to end the encounter.

"Can I at least have your number?" Mike pulled out his phone, holding it out. "I'd love to call you later tonight."

Amilah lifted her chin, her voice turning entirely cold. "My husband wouldn't like that."

Mike's dark brows snapped up in genuine surprise. "Your... husband? You're married?"

"Yeah."

Mike's eyes instantly dropped to her left hand, a skeptical smirk playing on his lips. "Funny. I don't see a ring on your finger, Amilah."

"I don't like wearing jewelry," she lied smoothly, her expression unreadable.

"Oh, come on," Mike chuckled, stepping closer. "We're just becoming friends. I'm sure he'll understand. Please?"

Amilah stared at him, completely unable to believe the audacity of this man. A sudden, wicked idea flashed behind her eyes, and a slow, innocent smile touched her lips. "Fine," she murmured.

She snatched his phone, rapidly typed a number into his contacts, and handed the device back.

"Thank you, gorgeous," Mike grinned, thoroughly satisfied with himself. "I'll give you a call later tonight then. Bye, ladies. Enjoy your afternoon."

The second his back was turned, Amilah grabbed Lyla's wrist and practically dragged her toward the boutique door.

"Amilah!" Lyla whispered frantically the moment they hit the entry vestry. "You actually gave that playboy your real number?!"

"Hell no," Amilah laughed out loud, the tension leaving her shoulders. "Can't you tell the guy is a player?"

Lyla blinked, thoroughly confused. "But... I literally just watched you type something into his phone."

Amilah's eyes flashed with pure, mischievous delight. "Yes. I gave him Lowin's private number."

Lyla froze, and then a brilliant, breathless giggle escaped her lips. She clapped her hands together. "Oh my god... nice play, Mrs. Vance."

Amilah's entire face erupted into a deep, burning crimson at the title. She quickly pushed open the inner doors, ushering Lyla onto the main floor to hide her blushing face.

Inside Amizee Trends, Zaria was gracefully managing a group of high-end customers when the entry chimes cut through the quiet room. She looked up, her jaw dropping open as Amilah walked in, leading a completely star struck Lyla behind her.

Lyla spun in a slow circle, her eyes wide as she took in the gorgeous, avant-garde gowns lining the walls. "You... you actually own this entire place?!"

Amilah smiled warmly, a sense of pride washing over her. "Of course I do. This boutique is my dream."

"Boss?!" Zaria shrieked. Completely forgetting about her clients, she abandoned them mid-sentence and sprinted across the polished marble floor.

"I'm fine, I promise," Amilah laughed, instantly catching her in a brief hug to calm her panic.

Zaria let out a massive, ragged sigh of relief, clutching her chest. "We were so worried about you. The rumors were terrifying."

"I know, I know," Amilah murmured. "Lyla, this is Zaria, she is my lead stylist and my close friend. Zaria... meet Lyla."

Zaria shifted her gaze to the stunning woman beside her boss, her face turning entirely star struck. "It is such an honor to meet you, Lyla. Wow... tell me you're a professional model. You look absolutely flawless. Actually, we have a new silk wrap-dress in the back that would literally-"

"Zaria, breathe," Amilah cut in with a chuckle. "She isn't here as a client. And yes, she is a model. In fact, she is officially the brand-new face of the entire Vance Empire. And... guess what?"

Zaria blinked. "What?"

"I officially start working at their headquarters tomorrow morning," Amilah announced, her eyes gleaming with ambition. "Which means you are officially being promoted. As of this exact second, you are the boss of Amizee Trends."

Zaria's eyes practically flew out of her head. "Wait... hold on. I'm running this entire place by myself? What about Beryl?"

"What about me?" a bright, familiar voice called out from the back corridor.

Amilah turned toward the sound, her arms opening wide with a warm smile. "Hey there, silly girl."

"Boss!" Beryl shrieked. She bolted across the floor, throwing herself straight into Amilah's embrace before immediately pulling back to check her over from head to toe. "You told us you were severely hurt! What happened?"

"Oh, you know, I almost died," Amilah stated dramatically, a wicked wink flashing in her eyes as her staff let out gasps of horror. "Come on, I'm kidding. It was just a minor scalp injury. It's healing perfectly, and thankfully, my hair is thick enough to hide the stitches."

Beryl pouted, her eyes watering with relief. "I am so, so sorry you had to go through that."

"It's over now," Amilah reassured her. "Beryl, this is Lyla. Lyla, meet Beryl, my savior and personal assistant."

Lyla stepped forward with a radiant smile. "It's so wonderful to meet you, Beryl."

"Nice to meet you too!" Beryl beamed, her eyes scanning Lyla's elegant silhouette. "Wow... you look incredible."

Lyla let out a soft, melodic giggle. "Thank you so much."

"Alright, ladies, let's focus," Amilah clapped her hands together. "Quickly wrap up with those current customers. By the way, is Annah here yet?"

Zaria nodded, pointing toward the rear office doors. "Yeah, she's been waiting inside for the last twenty minutes, quietly sipping her coffee."

"Perfect. Get back to the floor, Zaria. And Beryl?" Amilah smirked. "Pack up your personal notebooks tonight. Tomorrow morning, you are reporting to the Vance Corporate tower with me. You're my official executive PA."

Beryl let out a high-pitched, thrilled scream that echoed off the high ceilings, her face lighting up with joy. "What?! I actually get to work inside the Vance Empire?!"

"Yes, you do," Amilah laughed.

"Wait... we aren't completely closing down this boutique, are we?" Beryl asked, suddenly panicking.

"No way," Amilah shook her head defiantly. "Zaria is going to be in charge of everything here. In fact, Zaria, go ahead and post a vacancy listing on our official website today. Hire a couple of assistants to help you handle the floor logistics."

"Right away, Boss!" Zaria chirped, her chest swelling with newfound pride.

Amilah ushered Lyla down the private corridor and pushed open the door to her personal office. Annah Vance was lounging elegantly in a plush armchair, completely at ease as she finished her espresso.

Annah looked up, narrowing her eyes playfully. "Well, look who finally decided to show up. You completely forgot about my existence the exact second you cleared those hospital doors."

"I am so sorry," Amilah smiled, walking over to press a comforting hand against her shoulder. "But I'm here now, aren't I? I promised you a spectacular lunch, and look...I brought a surprise guest along with me."

Amilah reached back, gently pulling Lyla forward into Annah's line of sight. "Annah Vance... it is my privilege to introduce to you Lyla Daniels. Debrin Salvatore's one and only girlfriend." Amilah delivered the introduction with pure, dramatic flair.

Annah's jaw literally unhinged. Her coffee cup rattled violently against the saucer as she stared at Lyla in shock. "Debrin's... girlfriend?! You have got to be kidding me. Who on earth could possibly fall in love with that heartless, cold-blooded monster?"

Amilah smirked, leaning against the edge of her desk. "Well, our sweet Lyla here did. And that's not even the best part, she is the exact weapon Debrin used to brutally replace Victoria Jackson on the corporate fashion floor this morning."

Annah's eyes lit up with a dangerous, chaotic excitement. "Wait... you're a model?!"

"Yes," Amilah smiled proudly. "She is officially the new face of the Vance Empire."

Annah's face beamed with joy. She practically bounced out of her seat. "Please tell me one of you recorded the exact look on Victoria's toxic face when you walked in Please."

Lyla let out a soft laugh, shaking her head regretfully. "Unfortunately, we didn't get it on camera... but trust me, she is absolutely livid. She looked ready to explode."

The three women erupted into hearty, unbridled laughter, the heavy tension of the past few days completely evaporating from the room.

"Lyla, this is Annah," Amilah officially introduced them. "Lowin's little sister."

Lyla smiled warmly. "It is so wonderful to meet you, Annah."

"The pleasure is entirely mine," Annah grinned, wrapping Lyla in a quick, enthusiastic hug. "Well... I hate to admit it, but Debrin Salvatore actually possesses impeccable taste. You are stunning."

Lyla's cheeks immediately erupted into a deep, crimson blush at the mention of her possessive boyfriend.

"Alright, ladies, I am starving," Amilah announced, rubbing her flat stomach. "We need to pick a top-tier spot for lunch. My treat."

Annah grabbed her designer purse off the desk, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Say less. I know the exact, exclusive spot you two are going to love." She jingled her keys. "I'm driving."

"Of course you are," Amilah laughed.

The three women walked out of the boutique, throwing final goodbyes to Zaria and Beryl before sliding into Annah's low-slung sports car. The engine roared to life, and they tore down the avenue toward Palace Restaurant, completely oblivious to the fact that their every movement was being meticulously monitored by a heavy, invisible shadow security detail.

Inside the vast CEO office of the Vance corporate tower, Lowin's encrypted phone violently vibrated against the mahogany desk. He snatched it up.

"Speak," Lowin growled into the receiver, his tone clipping with authority.

"Boss, they just left the boutique. Three of them," Logan's calm, steady voice echoed through the line from the SUV tracking them.

"Okay. Keep them safe," Lowin commanded, his eyes narrowing as he stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the sprawling skyline. "If anything even remotely suspicious happens, you notify me immediately. Clear?"

"Roger that, Boss."

Lowin ended the call, sliding the phone into his pocket before glancing down at the heavy gold Rolex on his wrist. 1:00 PM. He let out a long, heavy exhale. Why the hell was this day dragging on so slow? He couldn't wait to finally clear his desk tonight. The thrilling thought of his little bird waiting for him inside his estate, preparing dinner in his kitchen, was driving him completely insane.

Forcing himself to focus, he dragged a thick stack of financial ledgers forward, trying to drown his restlessness in work.

On the other end of the line, Logan stared blankly at the black screen of his phone, thoroughly surprised.

"Did Boss seriously not see the photo we just sent?" Logan muttered, his brow furrowing.

Mark glanced over from the passenger seat. "Why?"

"He didn't say a single thing about it on the call."

Mark quickly pulled out his own device, checking the encrypted outgoing queue. His stomach instantly dropped. "Shit... it's not sent yet."

Logan snapped his head around, his eyes wide. "Are you crazy?!"

"There was zero network at that specific boutique spot," Mark defended himself frantically, his thumbs flying across the screen. "Look, it's clearing now. It's sent."

Logan let out a heavy sigh of relief, tapping the steering wheel as he kept a close, careful distance behind Annah's sports car.

At the columned grand entrance of Palace Restaurant, a sprawling, exclusive venue famous for its authentic Italian food. Mike Houston was trapped in a bitter, toxic argument with his mother, Rebecca Houston.

"I don't care what you have to do, Mike!" Rebecca hissed, her voice shaking with venomous rage. "You have to fight to get your rightful inheritance back from Lowin Vance. That monster literally killed your father, and here you are, wasting your days having fun with random girls? Seriously, Mike, what happens to the family company now?!"

Mike rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in deep exhaustion. "The man is dead, Mom. Let his brothers deal with Lowin Vance. I have zero desire to be in his bad books."

"You are entirely useless," Rebecca snapped, her face twisting with utter disgust. "The day I manage to wrestle your father's company back, I swear to God you will never step foot inside that building again."

"I don't care, Mom," Mike turned his back on her, brushing her off. "Just leave me alone. You're embarrassing me in front of my guest."

Rebecca turned sharply on her heels, violently slamming her luxury car door behind her before the driver hit the gas, leaving Mike standing on the curb.

From the sports car, Amilah and Lyla stared in shock. They recognized Mike instantly.

Annah winced as she killed the engine. "Damn... he was so incredibly rude to his own mother."

"Not again," Amilah whispered, her blood running cold.

Lyla's instincts flared, thoroughly convinced now that the playboy was following them. "I think we should completely avoid him, Amilah. What if he's trying to get revenge for his father's death?"

Annah squinted through the windshield. "Wait, he actually looks familiar."

"Of course he is," Lyla whispered her voice tight. "That's Mike Houston. Jade Houston's son... and he was literally just lingering outside the boutique when we arrived."

Annah's eyes widened in sudden panic. "Oh, shit... he isn't actively stalking you, is he, Amilah?"

"Why would he stalk me?" Amilah asked, her brow furrowing.

"Well... the man Lowin is officially accused of murdering is his father."

Amilah swallowed hard, trying to process the gravity of the situation. "What? But... I'm positive he doesn't know anything about the relationship between me and Lowin."

"It's always good to be cautious," Annah warned heavily.

"Well... we will just completely ignore him," Amilah decided, pulling her bag over her shoulder.

The second they stepped out of the sports car, Mike Houston turned. His eyes locked onto the familiar face of Amilah walking toward the steps, and his expression brightened with immediate recognition.

"Well, well, well... we meet again, ladies," Mike grinned smoothly.

Before Amilah could even react, he stepped right into her personal space. Reaching out, his heavy hand clamped tightly around hers, guiding her up the restaurant staircase and ushering her through the heavy doors completely forgetting the stunning woman he had originally arrived with.

"Oh, right. You all look absolutely stunning today," Mike gloated, gesturing toward the elegant interior. "Let's head right in. Lunch is entirely on me."

Annah quickly caught up, leaning in close to whisper maliciously into Amilah's ear. "Well... looks like you won't be spending a single penny of your own money after all, sister-in-law."

Amilah didn't find it funny. She violently pinched Annah's arm, making the heiress wince out loud. "Shut up," Amilah hissed under her breath. She wrenched her hand out of Mike's grip, her voice turning professional and icy. "No, thank you, Mr. Houston. You really don't have to do that. My husband will be joining us here shortly, so I don't think he'll appreciate extra company at our table."

Mike raised his dark brows, a highly skeptical smirk playing on his lips. "Same story again, beautiful?"

"Yes."

"But I distinctly think you're lying to me," Mike chuckled, stepping closer.

Amilah's eyes flashed with frustration. I literally just told this i***t I am a married woman, what the hell is wrong with his brain? "I am not lying. Please, just let me be."

"Okay, okay," Mike held his hands up defensively. "I just genuinely wanted to treat you guys to lunch."

"Some other time," Amilah snapped, turning her back on him.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to call you later tonight then," Mike grinned, thoroughly satisfied. "Bye, ladies. Enjoy your lunch."

Lyla and Annah offered tight nods, quickly following Amilah past the main host stand and deep into the restaurant toward a quiet, heavily shrouded VIP lounge.

The moment they settled into the velvet curtains, Annah whipped around, her eyes wide with shock. "Amilah, are you insane?! You actually gave that playboy your number?!"

"Why on earth would I give him my real number?" Amilah laughed, sliding into the plush leather booth. "The guy is clearly a textbook playboy."

Amilah leaned back against the cushions, a triumphant, wicked smirk playing on her lips. "Don't worry, Annah. I just gave him Lowin's private line."

Annah's jaw literally unhinged. Her eyes flew wide in horror. Oh, poor guy. He is completely f****d. Annah thought, a cold shiver running down her spine. Amilah clearly had absolutely zero understanding of just how terrifyingly psychotic and possessive Lowin Vance truly was when crossed.

Annah let out a loud, delighted giggle. "Nice move, Mrs. Vance."

Amilah raised her hand in gentle dismissal, her cheeks instantly turning a beautiful shade of crimson at the title.

"What do you guys want to eat? I'm craving a massive steak and some pasta."

Lyla smiled, scanning the menu. "Well... how about we get some premium red wine first? We need to properly toast to the official beginning of our long-lasting friendship."

Amilah froze, looking across the table. "Debrin didn't tell you anything?"

Lyla blinked, thoroughly confused. "Tell me what? He left the penthouse without me this morning when he came to see you at the hospital."

Annah let out a loud chuckle, leaning over the table with a mischievous grin. "Well, Lyla... let's put it this way. The only strong drink our beautiful Mrs. Vance here is legally allowed to take for the next eight months is organic fruit juice."

Lyla tilted her head, her brow furrowing in deep confusion. She stared at Amilah's blushing face for three seconds before the heavy realization hit her like a physical blow. Her eyes went completely wide. "You're pregnant?!" She gasped, her voice dropping into a thrilled whisper. "But... you said back in the office you guys aren't even officially dating yet!"

"It... it just happened," Amilah whispered, her voice cracking as her face burned with heat. "I didn't expect it to happen this soon either."

Lyla's face lit up, her arms instantly wrapping around Amilah's shoulders in a tight hug. "I literally just met you hours ago, and now I'm officially an auntie-to-be! Well, congratulations, Mrs. Vance!"

Annah leaned back against the leather cushions, a soft, warm smile on her face as she admired her sister-in-law. "Can't you see how clear her skin is? The Vance bloodline is strong."

"Guys, stop it. Let's just order and leave early," Amilah mumbled frantically, completely crimson as she hid her face behind the menu. "I have to stop by the grocery store later to get some fresh ingredients for dinner."

"Okay, okay," Annah chuckled, handing the menu across the table to Lyla to give her sister-in-law a breather.

While Amilah was happily enjoying her steak, laughing whole-heartedly with her new best friends, the possessive man she left behind was burning alive with jealousy inside his office.

Back in the sprawling executive office of the Vance Corporate tower, the heavy silence was suffocating. Lowin was clenching his phone so violently that the thick veins on his forehead were bulging like cords.

On the screen, the delayed photograph had finally loaded.

The angle caught Amilah from the back, her stunning hourglass curves instantly recognizable. But what made Lowin's blood violently boil was the man holding her. A random, pathetic bastard had his heavy arms wrapped completely around her waist, pulling her into a tight, intimate embrace.

Lowin felt a physical, agonizing wrench in his chest like someone was brutally ripping his heart straight out of his body. A dark, primitive possessiveness reared its head, blinding his mind with a volatile rage.

His fingers flew across the screen, typing out a text to Logan that dripped with a lethal, unyielding intent.

[Lowin]: I hope he is dead by now. Else I'll bury you two myself.

A few agonizing seconds passed before the device buzzed with a frantic, desperate reply.

[Logan]: Boss, it's Mike Houston. There's nothing we could have done. Especially right now.

[Lowin]: You're so f*****g dead, Logan.

Lowin violently threw the phone onto the mahogany desk, cursing savagely under his breath as he paced the length of the vast room. His chest heaved, his jaw locking so tightly it ached.

Should I just lock her up? The dark, thought whispered in his mind. How dare she let another man touch her? How dare she let someone else put their filthy hands on what belongs to me?

He stopped in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out over the glittering city skyline, his dark eyes turning entirely black. A slow, wicked, and deeply possessive smile crept onto his lips.

"You're so done for, little bird," Lowin growled into the empty room, his deep voice dropping into a low, terrifying purr of anticipation. "I'll have to punish you thoroughly tonight for letting him touch you. Only me. I am the only one who should ever be that close to you."