RUTHLESS DEVOTION: THE EMPIRE BETWEEN US

THE ABDUCTION

The mattress gave way completely as his shadow swallowed her whole. His hands anchored her hips, pinning her to the sheets with a possessive weight that made it impossible to breathe, let alone run. The fire in his eyes wasn't just anger anymore, it was a claim. And as his mouth found hers, punishing and desperate, she knew there was no escaping the storm they had both ignited.

He pulled back just an inch hovering , his chest heaving, eyes scanning her face like a predator assessing its prize. The city lights bled through the sheer curtains, casting jagged silver stripes across his features.

Amilah's breath hitched. The oversized jersey bunched around her waist, leaving her legs exposed to the cool night air and the searing heat of his gaze.

"You think you're clever, little bird," Lowin growled.

He gripped her wrists, pinning them above her head with a single hand. His palm felt like a brand against her skin.

"I was just... protecting myself," Amilah whispered, her voice trembling.

Lowin leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. The scent of soap and expensive cologne clung to him, a sharp contrast to the raw, muskier scent of his arousal.

"Protecting yourself by giving a man my number?"

"I knew you'd handle it."

A dark, low chuckle vibrated through his chest. He shifted, his thigh sliding between hers, the heavy denim of his sweatpants rubbing against her bare skin. He let go of her wrists, his hand diving beneath the hem of the jersey. He didn't hesitate, his fingers finding the damp heat of her core with a precision that made her back arch off the bed.

Amilah let out a broken moan, her head thrashing against the pillows.

"Tell me," he commanded, his voice a guttural rasp. "Whose are you?"

"Yours," she gasped, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders. "Only yours, Lowin."

He captured her lips in a kiss that tasted of possession and desperation. It wasn't a request, it was a claim. He bit her lower lip, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her, before his tongue swept inside to dominate her senses.

With a sudden, fluid motion, he gripped the collar of the jersey and pulled it upward. The fabric slid over her head and was tossed blindly across the room.

Lowin gaze dropped to her stomach, their child was slowly growing in there. The predatory fire in his eyes didn't vanish, but it shifted, tempering into something fierce and protective. He lowered his head, pressing a lingering, fervent kiss to the skin of her belly.

Amilah's heart hammered against her ribs. She ran her fingers through his damp hair, pulling him closer.

"He can't have you," Lowin murmured against her skin, his voice thick. "Not a glance, not even a breath."

He moved back up, his large hand cupping her breast, his thumb grazing the peak until she whimpered. He leaned down, sucking one n****e harshly, his tongue swirling around the areola while his hand slid down to her thighs. He watched her face, savoring the way her pupils dilated, the way she surrendered to him entirely.

"I'm going to remind you exactly where you belong," he whispered.

He slid two fingers deep into her wet core A loud, wet squelch echoed as he pumped his fingers, feeling the walls of her v****a clench around him. Amilah arched her back, a moan escaping her lips.

"Please, Lowin," she whimpered.

"Please what?"

"I want you. Now."

He shed his clothes with efficient, impatient movements. When he returned to her, the scale of him eclipsed the light. He entered her in one smooth, powerful surge, filling her completely.

Amilah cried out, her legs locking around his waist, pulling him deeper.

The sound of their bodies colliding a rhythmic, meaty slapping filled the room. Shlicking noises erupted with every thrust as he drove himself deeper, his balls slapping hard against her soaking wet lips.

"You're mine," he groaned, his voice raw. "Every inch of you little bird is mine."

He increased the pace, his thrusts becoming frantic and overzealous. At one point, his c**k slipped out entirely with a wet pop, only to slam back in a second later, sending a jolt of pleasure through Amilah that made her toes curl.

Amilah wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, her nails digging into his shoulders. She could smell the musk of his sweat and the scent of their combined fluids. The rhythm was relentless, a storm of friction and heat that drowned out the rest of the world. Every thrust was a punctuation mark, a silent vow of ownership.

Lowin buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breathing ragged and sharp.

"Mine," he groaned, the word vibrating through her entire body. "Always mine."

Lowin let out a guttural roar, his body stiffening as he came deep inside her, filling her with hot, thick ropes of seed. Amilah shuddered beneath him, her own orgasm crashing over her in waves of blinding heat.

They collapsed together as the peak hit, a shattering release that left them both gasping for air in the sudden silence of the room. Lowin didn't pull away. He stayed heavy against her, his heartbeat drumming a frantic rhythm against her chest.

He shifted his weight, rolling to the side but keeping her tucked firmly against his body. He pulled the duvet over them, his arm acting as a living barrier between her and the world.

"Still think you're a challenge?" he murmured, his voice returning to that smooth, dangerous purr.

Amilah closed her eyes, leaning into his warmth.

"Maybe a little," she whispered.

Lowin tightened his grip, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.

"Good. I like the hunt."

He shifted, his eyes glinting. "Another round?"

Amilah hit his chest, making him chuckle. "We have work tomorrow."

"Okay," he said, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. "Good night."

"Good night." she whispered, drifting off.

---

Early the next morning, Amilah woke to an empty space beside her. She slid out of bed, her muscles humming with a lingering ache. On the couch, a fresh towel sat neatly beside a change of clothes and a handwritten note.

I love you, little bird. Meet me at the office. Mark will pick you up.

A smile formed on her lips. She hurried to the bathroom for a quick shower, the warm water rinsing away the remnants of the night. Once she stepped out, she slid into the professional wear Lowin had personally picked for her, a high-waisted black pencil skirt and a black blouse. She smiled as the outfit fit her perfectly, hugging her curves while remaining professional. She slide into her heels and grabbed her purse and stepped outside, where Lowin's Porsche waited.

Mark held the door open. "Good morning, ma'am.

"Good morning," Amilah smiled, stepping inside.

Mark stepped on the gas, moving through the streets toward the Vance Empire tower.

---

Inside the executive top-floor office, Lowin Vance was pacing the floor, his phone pinned to his ear as he spoke with his father.

"The board members just want direct answers, Dad. I'll handle them," Lowin growled, checking the morning trading metrics. "The stocks are already rising after my release. For now, I don't want to do anything with Houston Holdings. We have more pressing matters."

"I'll talk to them too the second I return," Jared's voice boomed over the line. "But make sure you let them know about the threat of Justin".

"I will."

"How is Amilah?" Jared pressed, his tone shifting into full fatherly concern. "I hope you're not taking care of the company and forgetting about her?"

Lowin's expression softened slightly. "No, Dad. She will be reporting to work today. She spent the night at my place, you don't have to worry."

"Good... don't disappoint me, son."

Jared ended the call abruptly, giving Lowin no room to protest. Lowin rubbed the bridge of his nose, letting out a heavy sigh. He had a brutal, five-hour meeting ahead of him with those old business partners of his father, but he had no choice but to show up and defend his position.

He pressed the intercom. "Tom, get in here."

A moment later, Tom entered, looking tentative. "Boss?"

"Get Amilah some breakfast and send it straight to her office," Lowin commanded sharply. "Get some fresh fruits too... and please don't get her any oily food, understand?"

"Of course, sir... but she isn't here yet," Tom reported.

Lowin checked his watch. It was already 9:00 AM, and his board meeting was locked to start at exactly 10:00. Why is she late? He thought, a flicker of worry hitting him. Maybe she overslept after last night.

"Just send it down anyway. She will find it on her desk," Lowin directed. "And let me know the exact second she arrives."

"Yes, sir."

Tom left the office, scratching his head. He had no idea what the boss lady liked for breakfast. As he stepped into the hall, Lyla stepped out of the elevator, looking radiant.

Tom let out a breath. "Thank God," he whispered under his breath.

Lyla offered a bright smile. "Good morning, Tom."

" Good morning, ma'am."

Lyla looked around the quiet corridor. "Is Ms. Miles here yet?

No, ma'am... but I could seriously use your help right now." Lyla tilted her head, curious. "What is it?"

Tom sighed, shifting on his feet. "Well, the Boss asked me to get her breakfast, and I honestly have no idea what she likes."

Lyla chuckled softly. "Oh, okay no problem. I'll head down to the cafeteria and pick it up myself."

"Wait," Tom stopped her, checking his notes. "He explicitly said no oily food."

Lyla paused, her eyes widening slightly as she remembered her new friend was carrying the Vance heir. Morning sickness, she thought. "Oh, right... then I guess you'll have to be very careful with the order."

Tom scratched his head in complete frustration, wondering what on earth to choose.

"Don't worry," Lyla reassured him with a warm smile. "Ms. Miles is not a picky eater at all. Just make sure the chef avoids anything greasy or oily."

Tom heaved a massive sigh of relief and hurried off to place the special order with the executive kitchen.

Lyla turned and walked down the long marble hallway toward the fashion department. The second she stepped through the double doors, Susan was already waiting for her with a tablet in hand.

"Good morning, Lyla," Susan smiled warmly.

"Good morning," Lyla replied, smiling sweetly.

Once again, the entire creative floor fell into a hushed, awe-stricken silence. The employees watched her pass, entirely mesmerized. Her skin was flawlessly clear, and she radiated an innocent, breathtaking aura that completely dominated the room.

"She is so gorgeous and adorable," an assistant whispered.

"I literally cannot wait to see her walk the runway," a stylist murmured.

Over by the espresso machine, Victoria Jackson sneered, viciously serving coffee to a senior designer. Her eyes burned with toxic jealousy. What the hell is so unique about her? Victoria cursed under her breath, her swollen fingers tightly curling against her palms. She's just another slut exactly like that witch Amilah.

Lyla completely ignored the glare. "I'll be waiting inside Amilah's office, Susan."

"Okay," Susan nodded smoothly. "But honestly, there's nothing on your schedule today. You could easily take a day off to rest."

Lyla shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. "It's okay. I'd rather stay here. It gets too boring sitting alone at the penthouse all day."

Susan smiled, her heart melting. She loved the girl's work ethic already.

---

Across the city, inside her small apartment, Beryl was frantically rushing to get ready for her first official day as an executive PA. She held her phone tightly against her ear, speaking to Amilah.

"I'm almost at the office," Amilah's voice came through the speaker, warm and clear. "Call me the second you step into the main lobby. I'll come down to the reception desk to pick you up personally."

"Yes! Yes, absolutely," Beryl beamed, her heart racing with pure excitement. "I seriously cannot wait to step into that empire."

Amilah giggled, her tone turning playful. "Don't get too excited just yet, my dear assistant. There is a massive mountain of summer collection work we need to catch up on today."

"Okay, okay, I'll be there in exactly thirty minutes," Beryl promised.

"Alright. See you soon."

Beryl ended the call, locked her apartment door, and hurried down the concrete stairwell. Her focus was glued to her screen, her thumbs flying as she quickly replied to direct messages from high-paying clients who were frantically trying to order the custom gowns she had uploaded to the Amizee Trends website earlier that morning.

She turned the corner, heading briskly toward the local transit bus station. But before she could even reach the waiting area, a black SUV pulled up directly in front of her path.

The heavy passenger doors flew open.

Before Beryl could even gasp, someone reached out from the dark interior, grabbing her and pulling her inside the vehicle. The entire abduction happened with such speed and precision that none of the nearby pedestrians even noticed she was gone.

A thick, black cloth was placed over her head, plunging her world into darkness.

"Let me go!" Beryl shouted, kicking against the seats as panic exploded in her chest. She fought with everything she had, trying to remove the cloth from her face. "Who are you guys?! Where are you taking me?!"

A heavy blow landed against her face, the force making her head spin. Her defenses crumbled, and darkness swallowed her whole.

Jacob, the driver, glanced in the rearview mirror at the unconscious woman. He dialed a number on his phone and on the first ring, a voice answered.

"Is everything going exactly as planned, Jacob?"

"Yes, sir," Jacob reported coldly, looking back at the unconscious girl. "We have her secured. We're heading out of the city now."

"Excellent work," Justin said.

He abruptly cut the call, a maniacal laugh escaping his lips. He stood in the center of the abandoned mansion, his eyes filled with dark anticipation.

"I truly cannot wait to finally meet you sister-in-law, I have your dear assistant with me now," Justin whispered to himself into the empty silence of the room.