RUTHLESS DEVOTION: THE EMPIRE BETWEEN US

JEALOUS ALPHA

The lunch was finally over. Amilah slid her phone out of her pocket and made a quick call to Lowin.

"Hey, sweetheart," his deep, gravelly voice instantly filled the line.

"Hey," Amilah murmured, a soft smile touching her lips. "We are done with lunch. You can send Mark over to Palace Restaurant."

"He'll be there."

"Okay. Thank you. See you tonight."

Lowin let out a low, rough chuckle that made her pulse give a sudden leap. "See you tonight, little bird. Make sure you rest the second you get home... my passcode is your birthday."

"Okay," Amilah whispered, her face flushing crimson as she quickly ended the call.

Annah leaned across the table, a wicked smirk on her face. "Why are you blushing so hard?"

"I'm not blushing," Amilah lied smoothly, fanning her face. "It's just too hot in here."

Lyla adjusted her sunglasses, a playful smile appearing on her lips. "So, will we be coming here again tomorrow? Looks like Amilah loved the steak."

"I loved it," Amilah admitted, her chest warming.

"Well then... I'll be coming to pick you guys up tomorrow after my shoot ends," Annah planned. "Maybe around 3:00 PM."

"Okay, no problem," Amilah agreed. "We will be at the office."

Lyla stood up, excusing herself to make a quick phone call.

Annah watched her leave, then leaned her head back against the plush leather seat with a dramatic sigh. "So, Mark is taking you straight home?"

"Yeah."

"Ugh, I seriously need to get myself a man," Annah pouted, looking thoroughly defeated. "You two are literally bragging now."

Amilah giggled at her sister-in-law's dramatic display. "Are you absolutely sure there's no one special in your life right now?"

"None at all," Annah whined, her bottom lip sticking out in a sad face.

Lyla returned to the table, grabbing her purse off the table as she offered them a warm smile. "See you ladies tomorrow. Julian is already downstairs to pick me up." She leaned down, wrapping both of them in a quick, tight hug.

"Bye-bye," Annah waved.

"See you in the morning... Mrs. Salvatore," Amilah whispered teasingly.

Lyla giggled, flipping her thick hair over her shoulder proudly before striding out of the VIP lounge.

minutes later, Mark walked through the restaurant glass doors, his sharp eyes instantly spotting them at the booth. He stepped up with a respectful nod. "Ma'am, the car is ready."

Amilah blinked in surprise. "Oh. That was fast."

"I was in the area," Mark lied smoothly.

"Okay," Amilah stood up, gathering her things. "I'll stop by the grocery store to get some things that I need."

Mark shifted on his feet, his face an emotionless mask. "Don't worry about that, ma'am. It's already been handled. I will just drop you straight home."

Amilah raised her eyebrows, a sudden wave of surprise hitting her.

Annah laughed, sliding out of the booth. "I'm certain Lowin figured out exactly what ingredients you'd need."

"Probably..." Amilah murmured, her heart doing a strange flutter. She turned to Annah, wrapping her arms around her. "Okay, see you tomorrow, sweetheart. Don't miss me too much."

Annah pouted, hugging her back tightly. "Of course I'll miss spending time with you. Tomorrow night I'm spending the night at your place, right?"

Amilah giggled, stepping back. "Okay, no problem. I just hope Lowin wouldn't insist on coming along. It's so incredibly hard to say no to him."

Annah made a tragic, sad face. Amilah blew her a quick flying kiss and left.

Later that evening, Amilah slowly opened her eyes, waking from a deep, uninterrupted sleep. She felt completely relaxed and energized, the lingering exhaustion completely gone.

She checked her phone. It was almost 7 PM.

Sprinting out of the massive bed, she walked directly into Lowin's custom walk-in closet, searching for something comfortable to wear after her shower. Her eyes scanned the rows until they landed on a basketball jersey. She reached out, her fingers slowly tracing the thick fabric.

"Perfect," she whispered to herself.

Amilah grabbed the jersey and went to the bathtub. She took a quick, relaxing bath, letting the warm water soothe her skin before sliding into the oversized fabric.

A naughty, thrilling idea suddenly crossed her mind. She giggled, a sudden flush of excitement hitting her veins thanks to her raging pregnancy hormones, she decided there was absolutely no need to put on her bra or panties. She felt rather excited tonight.

She tied her hair up into a loose, messy bun, leaving a few stray tendrils to frame her face, and went to the open kitchen to prepare dinner, putting on some slow music.

Beyond the towering floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights glittered like a sea of diamonds, painting the evening sky with streaks of gold and silver. Inside, the sleek kitchen was alive with the comforting sounds of dinner preparation the rhythmic chopping of fresh vegetables on the cutting board, the gentle simmer of sauce on the stove, and the occasional clink of utensils.

Amilah stood barefoot on the marble floor, her body swaying softly to the rhythm of the music.

Her fingers unconsciously rested over her belly as she stirred the pot on the stove. A sweet smile formed on her lips at the thought of her child growing in her flat tummy. The rich aroma of garlic, herbs, and freshly cooked food filled the entire penthouse, creating a profound sense of home that no amount of luxury could buy.

Lost in the slow music, Amilah moved gracefully around the kitchen, completely unaware that she was no longer alone.

The front door had opened nearly a minute ago. Lowin stood completely frozen near the entrance, his towering frame locked in place. His briefcase hung loosely in one hand; his tailored suit jacket rested over his arm. His dark eyes were locked entirely on her.

Amilah swayed softly to the music while arranging the chopped vegetables on the cutting board. With every movement, the soft, oversized basketball jersey brushed teasingly against her bare thighs.

A small smile appeared on his lips as he watched her hum quietly along with the melody. Amilah turned slightly, reaching up toward the top shelf for a spice jar. The sudden movement caused the loose jersey to shift violently upward, revealing her fair thighs, making Lowin's throat wobble.

Lowin slowly placed his briefcase and suit jacket onto the sofa. He took off his tie, sliding it away as he quietly sat down to enjoy the raw, intimate scene before him. His little bird was entirely carried away by the music, swaying her hips as she stirred the soup. Lowin cursed under his breath. She looked so f*****g gorgeous.

Suddenly, the vivid memory of the photo Logan had sent of Mike hugging her flashed behind his eyes. A toxic, burning jealousy flared violently inside his chest. He slowly stood up, his heavy boots making no sound as he walked up behind her.

The familiar, heavy scent of his cologne wrapped around Amilah a split second before she could even turn around. He trapped her completely between his massive, hard body and the kitchen counter.

Amilah gasped, her head snapping back. "Hey... you're home early?"

Lowin closed his eyes as her sweet vanilla scent filled his nostrils, his manhood twitching at the close contact.

"I couldn't wait any longer to see you," he growled, his voice coming out incredibly deep, rough, and slow, making her heart skip a violent beat as his large hands began tracing her hips up to her tiny waist.

Amilah swallowed hard, her fingers clenching the edge of the counter as his closeness turned her knees to jelly. "You... you should go take a shower. Food will be ready before you know it."

Lowin leaned down further behind her, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the back of her ear. "You're kicking me out already?"

Before she could speak, his tongue slowly traced the sensitive column of her neck, making Amilah shiver violently.

"Uh-no," she gasped, her hands trembling. "Like... you should shower. You smell of boardrooms and stress."

Lowin let out a low, rough chuckle against her skin. His heavy hands slowly traveled up from the sides of her hips, his palms sliding continuously upward until they reached her breasts. He cupped them masterfully, making her jerk her head back as he massaged them.

"Stressed... yes," Lowin whispered, his breathing coming out sharp, quick, and ragged against her ear. Amilah could clearly feel his thick, rigid length poking aggressively against her bottom.

She closed her eyes, completely surrendering to his heavy touch. "Lowin... I-I have to finish cooking."

"I am not stopping you from cooking, sweetheart," he murmured against her lips.

Moving with deliberate slowness, Lowin slid his large, rough hand completely beneath the loose hem of her basketball jersey. His dark eyes flew wide open with an intense, unbridled desire when he realized she was wearing nothing beneath.

Lowin's grip tightened, his chest heaving. "What are you up to, Amy?"

Amilah giggled, a sudden wave of playful confidence hitting her as she turned to face him, pushing him away. "Nothing. Go and shower."

But Lowin didn't move an inch. He trapped her yet again, his massive weight pinning her against the counter as he slid his hand right back beneath the jersey.

"Look at me," he commanded, his deep voice thick with a heavy lust. His chest heaved up and down as he captured her lips with a hot, lustful kiss, his hand tracing her inner thighs straight to her safe haven.

Amilah gasped aloud as an intense heat crawled straight down into her lower abdomen, her hands frantically flying up to grip his broad shoulders for support as her legs went entirely weak.

He teased her bud, their eyes locking fiercely in the dim light. Slowly, he slid his thick fingers inside her tight core. Amilah let out a loud, breathless gasp, her head jerking backward at the sudden stretch.

"Why did you hug him?" Lowin growled, the jealousy breaking through his lust.

Amilah's mind went completely blank as his fingers began moving in a slow, torturous rhythm inside her tight walls. She couldn't breathe, let alone think. She had absolutely zero idea what he was talking about.

"Mike Houston," he growled, his finger moving deeper into her tight core.

"I-mm-I didn't hug him," Amilah gasped out, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "He hugged me... and we are-"

Lowin didn't let her finish. He captured her lips possessively, violently increasing the pace of his fingers inside her. Amilah moaned directly into his mouth, the sweet, helpless sound driving the beast inside him completely crazy.

He drank her in for one more agonizing second, then slowly, reluctantly pulled his fingers out, putting her jersey back in place over her bare thighs.

He rested his forehead against hers, his breathing ragged as he stared down at her flushed face. "Let this be the last time you let a man touch you," he growled, his tone unyielding. He paused, listening to the soft beat. "I like the music."

Amilah nodded softly, her chest heaving as she desperately tried to catch her breath. Shaking off the pleasure, she pushed him away, picking up a wooden serving spoon and using it to point directly at his chest.

"Bathroom. Now," she ordered, her voice shaking.

Lowin let out a heavy, defeated sigh, staring down at his manhood that was aggressively demanding to be set free. "What about him?"

Amilah followed his gaze down to the heavy ridge in his pants, and her face instantly turned an aggressive shade of crimson. She shooed him away frantically. "Just go! You came here to distract me..."

Lowin smirked, a trace of his dominant arrogance returning. "Bossy."

Amilah lifted her chin, her eyes flashing. "Pregnant."

Lowin raised his hands in mock surrender, a genuine chuckle escaping his lips. "Fair point."

He began walking backward toward the hallway, his dark eyes never leaving her face. Halfway down the corridor, he stopped. The playful smile slowly disappeared from his rugged features, replaced by a deep, intense sincerity. For one brief, suffocating second, the entire atmosphere in the penthouse altered.

"You look beautiful tonight, Amilah," he murmured.

Her heart completely betrayed her, giving a violent, erratic thud against her ribs. Before she could find the words to respond, Lowin turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway into the bathroom.

Amilah let out a long, shaky breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Then, she pressed a trembling hand against her racing heart, staring at the empty hallway.

"You're in trouble," she whispered to herself.

Because every single day she spent with Lowin Vance made it a little harder to remember exactly why she was still so afraid to trust him.

Minutes later, Amilah placed the last porcelain plate onto the dining table, stepping back to admire her work. The setup looked surprisingly elegant as the twin candles flickered softly, casting a warm, golden glow across the room. The slow music continued to play softly in the background.

Suddenly, the crisp sound of approaching footsteps reached her ears. She looked up.

Lowin emerged from the hallway, wearing a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, his thick dark hair still damp from the shower. Without the armored layers of his tailored corporate suits, he looked younger, relaxed, and significantly less intimidating.

Lowin raised his dark brows, stunned by her sudden, prolonged gaze on him.

Amilah locked eyes with him, a sudden wave of confidence hitting her. "You look delicious..." she murmured teasingly.

Lowin chuckled heartily, the deep sound vibrating through the quiet penthouse. "You're more than welcome to take a bite, sweetheart," he murmured, his gaze darkening as he pulled a chair out for her before seating himself directly across from her. He took a slow breath of the steam. "Smells delicious."

Amilah leaned forward slightly, resting her chin in her hands. "I spent an hour making it just for you, hubby."

Lowin dramatically clamped a large hand over his chest, a rare, boyish grin breaking across his rugged face. "Please, sweetheart... my heart genuinely can't take too much of your sweetness all at once."

Amilah giggled, reaching over to serve his plate. "Enjoy your food, darling."

Lowin picked up his fork, his dark eyes fixed entirely on her face. "I just hope there's dessert after this, because I definitely need it."

"I'll be the dessert, Mr. Vance," Amilah whispered smoothly. She kicked off her slipper, raising her bare foot under the table to slowly trail it up his calf beneath the dark wood.

Lowin's brows snapped together, his grip tightening violently on his fork until his knuckles turned white. He locked his intense, predatory gaze onto hers. "Be exceptionally careful of what you ask for, little bird."

Amilah tilted her head, her smile completely challenging. "I'm always up for a challenge."

Lowin let out a low, rough chuckle, shaking his head. "Don't blame me when you lose."

Amilah pulled her foot back with a smirk. "Let's eat."

The dinner passed easily, the suffocating tension from the corporate tower completely evaporating as their conversation flowed naturally. They talked about the baby's future, about her upcoming design schedules, and somehow, those quiet, simple moments felt infinitely more intimate than any grand romantic gesture could ever buy.

At one point during the meal, Lowin rested his chin on his palm, completely motionless as he watched her talk about her boutique staff.

Amilah paused, blinking. "What?"

"Nothing," Lowin murmured, his tone dropping into a deep, intense sincerity. "I just want this exact feeling to last forever. Coming home to a quiet house, seeing you stand in my kitchen, seeing you this happy... that's exactly what I want for us, Amy."

Amilah quickly dropped her gaze to her plate, unable to meet the raw vulnerability in his eyes as a sudden, intense warmth flushed her cheeks.

Lowin noticed the blush instantly, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. He leaned forward. "I want to take you somewhere special tomorrow after you wrap up at work."

Amilah looked up, her brow furrowing. "Where?"

"It's a surprise."

Amilah pouted her lips, making a cute face to crack his resolve. "But I already made plans with Annah. She's supposed to be spending the night at my apartment tomorrow."

"It's just a quick date, little bird. We won't be long."

Amilah sighed. "Fine."

"Fine?" Lowin smirked.

"Don't make me change my mind," she warned playfully.

Lowin raised his hands in mock surrender, sliding his chair back as he stood up to clear the empty plates.

Amilah made a move to stand. "I'll help you-"

"No, just stay right there and wait for me," Lowin commanded smoothly, leaning down until his lips brushed the sensitive skin of her ear. His breathing came out slow and rough. "You did all the cooking, so I'll handle the cleaning... and then... I'm coming back to enjoy my dessert."

Amilah instantly covered her hot face with both her palms. Lowin let out a low, amused chuckle, gathering the dishes and heading toward the open kitchen.

Suddenly, a loud, sharp vibration cut through the music. Lowin's phone was ringing on the dining table.

Amilah peeked through her fingers. "You have a call."

Lowin paused at the sink, turning around. "Who is it?"

Amilah glanced down at the flashing screen. "No caller ID."

Lowin's expression hardened instantly, his mind spiraling. A dark chill struck his chest. It can't be Justin, right? To ensure her safety, he decided to answer the line himself. Striding back to the table, he wiped his hands, snatched up the phone, and clicked the receiver.

He didn't speak. He just held the phone to his ear, remaining dead silent as his alpha instincts locked down the perimeter.

A cocky, smooth playboy voice immediately echoed from the other end of the line. "Hey, beautiful."

Lowin's dark brows furrowed into deep, lethal slits, his chest heaving. "Beautiful?" he growled.

"Oh, sorry," Mike Houston stammered slightly on the other end, caught off guard by the deep, terrifying baritone. "Can I talk to Amilah, please? I'm her friend."

Lowin's gaze slowly drifted over to Amilah, his eyes turning entirely black. A cold sweat broke out on her neck as a shiver ripped down her spine under his glare.

"Her friend?" Lowin repeated, his voice dropping into a dark, guttural pitch.

"Yes," the voice chuckled nervously. "I'm Mike Houston."

Lowin didn't break eye contact with her for a single second. He slowly walked over to her side of the table, grabbed her by her waist, and pulled her onto his lap as he sat down in her chair. He kept the phone pinned to his ear with one hand, while his large, scarred hand began wandering possessively across her bare back beneath the loose jersey.

"So tell me, Mike..." Lowin growled into the receiver, his thumb tracing the curve of her spine as his eyes drilled into hers. "She gave you her number?"

Mike's arrogant tone returned. "Yes. Is there an actual problem, dude?"

"There is absolutely no problem at all, Mr. Houston," Lowin whispered, a slow, terrifying smirk creeping onto his lips. "Because she didn't give you her number. She gave you my number."

A dead, suffocating silence violently followed on the other end of the line.

Mike swallowed hard, his voice cracking. "Dude, why the hell would she give me your number? I bet you're just f*****g lying to me."

Lowin didn't answer with words. Moving with lethal, dominant speed, he tangled his fingers in Amilah's hair, pulled her head back, and captured her lips in a hot, bruising kiss. He bit down hard on her lower lip, forcing a sharp, breathless gasp straight from her lungs, a sound that echoed crystal-clear into the phone receiver.

Mike gasped on the other end, the realization hitting him like a freight train. "So... you're the husband?"

"Of course I am, Mr. Houston," Lowin hissed, his voice dropping into a lethal purr. "And just as a final reminder... the next time you dare to lay your filthy hands on my woman's body, I will personally chop your hands off myself. Consider yourself exceptionally lucky today."

Mike tried to laugh it off, his playboy defense mechanism flaring. "Dude, do you even know who the f**k I am? I can take her away from you in the snap of a finger."

Lowin let out a low, dark chuckle a sound so chillingly quiet and psychotic that Mike completely froze on the other end of the line, his breathing turning ragged.

"I should take the remaining half of your deceased father's company right now, shouldn't I, Mike?" Lowin whispered smoothly.

The line went completely, horrifyingly quiet. Mike's voice returned, but the arrogance was entirely gone, replaced by a high-pitched, stuttering terror. "M-Mr. Vance...?"

"That's right," Lowin growled.

"I-I... I'm so incredibly sorry, sir," Mike stammered frantically, panic taking over. "I swear to God I had no idea she was your woman. I apologize. It will never, ever happen again."

"Good," Lowin snapped.

He violently tapped the screen, ending the call, and threw the phone onto the dining table with a loud clatter. His eyes never left Amilah's flushed, trembling face. His fingers tightened on her hips.

"My little bird is starting to grow some dangerous horns," Lowin murmured, his voice thick with a dark, jealous heat. "And they desperately need to be trimmed tonight."

Amilah swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her ribs. "I didn't give him my real number, Lowin. He was being so persistent outside the boutique... yours was the only number that popped into my head."

"Mmh..." Lowin growled softly. He leaned forward, burying his face into the crook of her neck, his hot breath branding her skin as his hands trailed her curves.

Amilah shivered, trying to push against his massive shoulders. "You... you should finish cleaning the kitchen. I'll be waiting in the bedroom."

"No, little bird," Lowin rumbled against her throat.

In one swift, powerful motion, he scooped her completely off his lap, carrying her bridal-style as he strode down the dark hallway toward the master bedroom. He threw her gently onto the massive bed, his towering frame immediately casting a shadow over her as he crawled over her body. His unhinged jealousy had completely taken over, and he needed to show her exactly who she belonged to.