RUTHLESS DEVOTION: THE EMPIRE BETWEEN US

FADING PULSE

Justin sneered, his fingers tapping against the edge of his weapon. " No matter how hard he tries, he won't find you," "Jacob! Get the hell in here."

The heavy double doors of the library creaked open. Jacob stepped through, his boots clicking against the dusty floorboards. "Boss."

"Get me the marriage certificates," Justin commanded.

Amilah and Lyla shot each other a sharp, questioning glance, panic threading through their veins.

"Right away, Boss," Jacob muttered, turning on his heel.

Justin turned back to Amilah, a slow, psychotic grin twisting his features. "You know, Amilah... for the first time in his miserable life, my brother has actually fallen in love. I'm positive he has grand plans to marry you. But that is never going to happen because you are getting married to me."

Amilah let out a cold, sarcastic laugh, her eyes drilling into his like broken glass. "I'd rather die than be your wife."

"Ouch. That genuinely hurts, sweetheart," Justin mocked, leaning in close enough for her to smell the stale tobacco on his breath. "But unfortunately, I don't give a single flying f**k whether you want to be my wife or not. The simple reality is this, Lowin won't ever have what he wants if I can't have what I want."

"You can't forcefully marry her!" Lyla shrieked, thrashing against her constraints. "Are you completely insane?!"

Justin whipped his head around, his eyes turning pitch-black. In a second, he pulled his heavy firearm from his waistband and pressed the cold, metal barrel directly against Lyla's forehead. "Another single word out of your mouth, b***h, and I will violently put a bullet straight through your skull."

Lyla went entirely rigid, shrinking back into the wooden chair as her breath rattled in her throat.

"Leave her alone!" Amilah yelled.

"Amilah, sweetheart," Justin purred, his gaze shifting back to her flushed face. "You are getting married to me right now, and your lovely little friend here is going to act as our official witness. If you don't sign the document... she dies."

Amilah clenched her teeth so hard a sharp pain radiated up her jaw. She knew damn well this psychopath meant every word he said. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she silently prayed to God for Lowin to just smash through those doors before she was legally shackled to a monster.

"Okay, fine," Amilah spat, forcing her voice to stay steady. "If you kill her, you won't have me either. So killing her or keeping her alive won't change a thing I still won't marry you."

Justin let out a loud, maniacal laugh, using the barrel of the gun to scratch his head as if thoroughly amused. "Well, Amilah... first, you lost your precious little boutique assistant. Second, you lose this b***h. And third... how about your dear friend Zaria? What do you think will happen to her? I will ruthlessly hunt down every single soul close to you. I'll even slaughter your parents overseas, just to watch you sign these goddamn papers."

At the mention of her parents, Amilah's world violently spun. A suffocating dread wrapped tight around her lungs. There was absolutely no way in hell she could let her family pay for the Vance blood feud.

The door clicked open again, and Jacob strode back into the library, handing Justin the crisp legal papers. Justin dragged a small side table directly in front of Amilah, slamming the certificates down before forcing a pen into her trembling hand.

"Sign it," Justin growled, keeping the cold steel of the barrel pressed hard against Lyla's forehead.

Amilah's fingers shook violently. Unconsciously, her free hand dropped to her flat stomach, her protective motherly instincts flaring. If she refused to sign, she would put everyone she loved in a grave. But if she did sign... what would happen to the child growing inside her? What would happen to the brutal, protective man she had finally realized she was head-over-heels in love with?

A hot, heavy tear escaped the corner of her eye, tracking down her burning cheek. Her hand trembled as she lowered the tip of the pen onto the paper.

Outside the crumbling mansion, a heavy, tactical silence choked the perimeter. With military precision, Lowin's elite security force moved through the brush, silently taking down Justin's scouts one by one before they could even sound the alarm.

Lowin Vance and the Salvatore brothers breached the entrance, moving like an absolute death battalion. They cleared the interior hallways with lethal speed, neutralizing every guard keeping watch inside the corridors.

Inside the library, Justin's patience completely evaporated. "f*****g sign the paper, Amilah!"

Amilah's hands shook so badly she could barely hold the plastic pen. She squeezed her eyes shut, a desperate whisper escaping her lips. "Where the hell are you, Lowin...?"

BOOM.

The heavy mahogany doors of the library were violently blasted off their hinges, crashing flat onto the wooden floorboards with a deafening bang. Dust and splinters exploded into the air, filling the room with a thick, blinding cloud. Justin and Jacob instantly whirled around, drawing their weapons as they faced the threshold.

Six massive, shadowed figures strode through the dense fog, radiating a bloodthirsty power.

Lowin Vance came first, his eyes completely pitch-black. Trailing right behind his broad shoulders were Debrin, Damien, Dane, Mark, and Logan.

Justin stepped back involuntarily, his weapon lowering a fraction as a cold sweat broke out on his neck. He knew his statistics. This was a war he could never win against those four lunatics.

But before anyone could even breathe, a sharp, deafening roar echoed off the high bookshelves.

BANG.

Lowin didn't say a single word. He simply raised his arm and pulled his trigger, aiming a single bullet directly into Jacob's forehead.

Jacob's body violently jerked, a dark hole opening between his eyes before he collapsed backward, hitting the floorboards with a heavy, hollow thud.

The sudden, brutal execution startled the entire room. Nobody not even his own men expected Lowin to fire his weapon while Amilah was sitting directly in the line of fire. Amilah, who had never experienced this savage, monstrous side of Lowin, felt the oxygen completely leave her lungs. Her vision blurred, and her knees gave out as she collapsed sideways from the chair.

Damien lunged forward with predatory speed, catching her fragile form before she could strike the floorboards, holding her unconscious body securely in his arms.

Justin stared down at his enforcer's corpse, a sick smirk returning to his lips as he tried to mask his panic. "Damn, bro. That was my best guy. You really shouldn't have done that."

"I am here to claim my wife, Justin," Lowin growled, his voice a low, vibrating register as his gun remained locked on his brother's chest. "I am not here to f*****g chit-chat."

Justin let out a low chuckle. "We both know you won't pull that trigger on me, Lowin. Mom would never survive the grief, right? You're too soft."

Debrin stepped past Lowin's shoulder, his suit jacket shifting as he raised his own heavy firearm, his eyes completely wild with a homicidal rage. "You know, Justin... he might have a blood obligation not to shoot you. But I don't give a flying f**k. You laid your filthy, pathetic hands on my woman. I will gladly put you in the dirt."

Dane shifted his stance, his gaze briefly tracking over Lyla's trembling form. He let out a low whistle. "Damn... she is seriously cute."

Lowin and Debrin whipped their heads around, roaring back in perfect, violent unison. "Shut the f**k up, Dane!"

Dane merely rolled his shoulders, a cocky smirk on his lips as he kept his weapon raised on the guards. "Relax, y'all. Your little women are completely safe now."

Justin's eyes narrowed as his gaze locked onto Debrin. "I should say... I definitely didn't see that alliance coming. I'm deeply sorry about that, Salvatore. I honestly thought she was just some low-class nobody."

Debrin clicked his tongue, his finger tightening on the trigger as he stepped closer. "You're done."

Justin quickly raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, intentionally drawing every eye in the room to his palms. "Wait! Look at them! One of them is severely hurt."

Debrin's protective instincts violently flared. He instinctively turned his head to look at Lyla, his jaw clenching as he prepared to ask if she was unharmed. Lowin, too, lowered his barrel for a dangerous fraction of a second, his eyes shifting toward Damien to check if Amilah had sustained any hidden injuries during the blast.

In that single second of distraction, Justin moved with lightning speed.

He violently whipped a hidden secondary firearm from the small of his back beneath his jeans, leveled the barrel directly at Lowin Vance's exposed chest, and pulled the trigger.

BANG.

Before a single enforcer could react, the blast shattered the room.

Without wasting a breath, Justin threw his heavy frame violently backward, smashing straight through the massive glass window. He hit the gravel outside and sprinted blindly into the dense, overgrown desert bushes behind the mansion, disappearing into the shadows of the outskirts.

"Justin!" Mark and Logan roared, lunging through the shattered glass frame as they tore after him into the wilderness.

Inside the library, Lowin stood completely frozen in the center of the floor.

His dark eyes blinked, staring down blankly as a thick, hot torrent of crimson blood violently gushed out from the center of his chest, soaking through his white shirt. His knees buckled, and he crashed heavily onto his knees.

"Lowin!" Debrin shrieked, dropping his weapon as he lunged across the space. He crashed to the floor beside his best friend, his large hands frantically slamming down onto the open wound, trying to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. "Why the f**k didn't you just shoot the bastard when you had the chance?!"

Lowin's vision began to blur, the edges of his sight turning completely black as his breathing rattled. He weakly reached out, his bloody fingers locking onto Debrin's jacket sleeve with a desperate, dying grip.

"Ta... take... take care of Amilah for me," Lowin choked out, thick blood spilling past his lips. "Please, Debrin. Keep her safe."

"Nothing is going to happen to you, you i***t!" Dane roared, slamming his phone open as he sprinted into the corridor. "Where the f**k is Julian?! Julian, get your ass in here right now!"

The doors burst open again, and Julian rushed inside, his boots skidding to a violent halt as his face turned pale at the horrific scene. The Big Boss was down.

Debrin didn't look up, his hands covered in Lowin's blood. "Julian! Help Lyla up! Get her out to the cars!"

"Yes, sir!" Julian barked, instantly moving to help Lyla and lifted her from the chair.

Damien adjusted his grip on Amilah's limp, unconscious form, ensuring her stomach was completely protected from pressure, and strode rapidly out of the blood-soaked library. Dane and Debrin hooked their shoulders under Lowin's heavy, failing frame, dragging his massive body down the corridor toward the waiting convoy.

The black SUV was literally flying down the desert highway, the tires screaming against the cracked asphalt as the engine roared at its absolute limit.

Inside the chaotic backseat, Debrin was white-knuckled, his palms pressed violently against Lowin's chest as he desperately tried to stanch the heavy flow of blood. Amilah lay completely peaceful and unconscious across Damien's lap in the middle row, while Lyla sat trembling beside her, her hands frantically rubbing her feet to stimulate her circulation.

Lowin's eyelids flickered, slowly cracking open as his fading sight tracked Amilah's pale face. He felt his chest violently tighten, a profound heartbreak piercing his soul. He weakly reached out, his blood-soaked fingers wrapping tightly around Debrin's wrist with the last shred of his remaining strength.

"Keep her safe... no matter what," Lowin rasped, his voice a fading whisper as the air left his lungs. "Do not let... anything happen to them, Debrin. Promise me."

"You're going to be perfectly fine, Lowin!" Debrin yelled over the roar of the engine, tears of frustration gathering in his eyes. "You're going to survive this, and you are going to keep them safe yourself! Don't you dare close your eyes!"

Lowin couldn't answer. The internal bleeding was rapidly crushing his lungs, suffocating him from the inside out. He let out a violent, ragged cough, dark red blood spilling uncontrollably across his shirt and splashing over Debrin's hands.

"Lowin! Lowin, dude, no! No, no, no!" Debrin panicked, his voice cracking as he slammed his weight down on the wound. "You can't do this! She needs you, damn it! You need to stay-"

The rest of Debrin's words died instantly in his throat.

Lowin's fingers completely loosened, his heavy grip slipping off Debrin's wrist as his head fell backward against the leather headrest. His eyes closed, and his body went entirely limp. He had lost consciousness.

"f**k!" Debrin screamed, his heart fracturing. He snapped his head toward the front seat. "Julian! f*****g drive faster!"

Julian didn't answer. His face was a stone mask of pure terror as he practically launched the heavy SUV across the highway lane barriers, screaming toward the horizon. They were heading straight for the Sinclair Citadel. One single minute late... and the Vance Empire would lose Lowin Vance forever.