The night was no longer quiet. The distant fires at the dockyards crackled against the sky like war drums, and Dylan watched them from the rooftop of his mansion, unmoving. A cigarette dangled from his fingers, forgotten and half-burnt.
Jayden stood behind him, freshly bandaged and grim. "Richard's people hit Warehouse 9 and burned the shipment. It's a clear declaration."
Dylan didn't blink. "I hope he knows what he just started."
Jayden shifted uneasily. "Should we retaliate tonight?"
Dylan's voice was razor-sharp. "No. Tonight, we observe. Tomorrow, we take his heart."
Jayden nodded and stepped back, but before he turned, he hesitated. "Boss… about Heaven…"
Dylan's jaw flexed.
"She's asking to leave the mansion. Just for air. Says she needs space."
Silence. Then Dylan's voice came low and dangerous.
"Have a car follow her. Discreetly. If a single hair on her head is touched…"
Jayden nodded. "Understood."
—
Meanwhile…
Heaven stood outside the mansion gates, wrapping her arms around herself as the wind blew. She wasn't fragile, and she wasn't foolish. But she couldn't breathe inside those marble walls anymore—not with the knowledge that blood was being shed, partly because of her.
She walked down the private road that stretched toward the garden Dylan once said he built for "when peace became real."
Peace.
She scoffed bitterly.
As she stood by the garden fence, her phone buzzed.
A message.
> Unknown Number: Pretty night to die, don't you think?
Her heart stuttered. She turned quickly, but the road behind her was empty.
Another message came through.
> "You look beautiful tonight, Heaven."
Chills raced up her spine.
She took a step back, heart hammering.
She barely had time to scream before a figure emerged from the shadows behind the trees—tall, fast, masked.
He grabbed her by the arm.
"Let go of me!" she yelled, struggling, panic in her chest.
Then the sharp screech of tires—Jayden's car.
A flash.
Gunshot.
The masked man staggered and bolted into the trees.
Jayden was out of the car in seconds, racing toward her.
"You're okay. I've got you," he said, holding her arms, eyes scanning for injuries.
Heaven shook, gasping, her legs unsteady.
"Dylan…" she whispered. "Tell Dylan I'm sorry."
Jayden frowned. "Sorry for what?"
She closed her eyes. "For being the reason someone wants to hurt him this badly."
—
Back at the mansion…
"She was attacked?" Dylan asked, his voice like a blade.
Jayden nodded. "But we scared him off. I've got the bullet casing. We'll trace it."
Dylan rose from his desk, grabbing his coat. "No. I'll trace it."
Jayden stepped forward. "Boss, let me handle this."
"No," Dylan snapped. "This is personal now. He came for her."
There was fire in his eyes. Unforgiving. Cold. Deadly.
He stopped at the doorway.
"Send out the warning," he said. "Anyone allied with Richard… has one hour to switch sides or burn with him."
Jayden watched him disappear into the night and muttered under his breath:
"Hell just woke up."