91Olivia heard the knock just as she was about to drift into her thoughts again.A firm, almost hesitant rapping against her door. She sat up, rubbing a hand down her face before calling out, “Yes?”“It’s Carmen, miss,” came the soft voice of the maid from the other side. “Your parents would like to see you in the dining room.”Olivia frowned, pushing off the bed. Her parents? Now?Her heart kicked up slightly. It had to be about earlier—the poisoning, Dylan, Lucas. Maybe even Odile. They wanted to talk.“Did they say why?” she asked, already making her way toward the door.“No, miss. Just that it was important.”“Alright. I’m coming.”She ran a hand through her hair, smoothing out the loose waves before heading downstairs. As she stepped into the dining room, her frown deepened.Lucas was already there.Seated at the long mahogany table, his arms folded across his chest, his expression dark. He barely spared her a glance.Zara and Lewis sat across from him, both with serious, unread

93 Dylan sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You do realize how pathetic this is, right?” Gregory’s smile twitched. “Pathetic? You still don’t get it, do you?” The shorter lackey snorted. “You must’ve really thought you could hide from us forever.” Dylan’s eyes flicked from one man to the other, his jaw tightening. “Ganging up on someone in a parking lot? Hoping for a reaction? What’s next, shoving me into a locker?” One of the lackeys scoffed. “You think this is funny?” Dylan shrugged. “A little.” Gregory’s expression soured, his patience finally running out. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” The wiry lackey stepped up even closer, fingers twitching as if itching for a fight. “I think it’s time we show you how little you matter to us.” Dylan’s gaze flickered with cold amusement, waiting to see who would make the first move.Dylan rubbed his temples, trying to stave off the headache that was creeping up. Gregory’s voice grated on his nerves, a const

95 Gregory’s brain clicked back into place as he watched Dylan sit behind the wheel of the Ferrari, the engine purring to life as though it had always belonged to him. His mind raced, but his mouth was quicker to catch up.“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Gregory sneered, his voice dripping with disbelief as he took a step forward, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “This is all a setup, isn’t it? There’s no way you’re actually driving this car. You must have stolen the keys from someone or some—”“Stolen?” Dylan interrupted, his voice biting through Gregory’s words like a razor-sharp edge. “You really think I’d steal a car like this just to mess with you? I don’t need to steal anything, Gregory. I’m doing just fine without having to sink that low.”Gregory scowled, his fists clenching at his sides. His lackeys, who had been standing frozen in stunned silence only moments ago, now began to murmur among themselves, their disbelief transforming into something more dangerous—skepticism.“Yea

97 Gregory swallowed, his eyes flicking to the other men, his bravado slipping away inch by inch. He could feel the heat of Dylan’s glare on him like a physical weight, and for the first time, he started to question just how far this confrontation might go. “Don’t move, Greg,” Allen said, his voice betraying his anxiety. “Maybe we should just… call it a day.” Gregory glanced at Allen, then at his other lackey, who seemed just as unsure now. For a moment, he looked back at Dylan, his chest heaving with the tension of the standoff. The grin was gone, replaced by something darker—something more calculating. “You’re not getting off that easy, Dylan. You still owe me an explanation.” Dylan’s eyes didn’t leave Gregory’s, his posture unyielding. “I don’t owe you anything, Gregory. I gave you everything you needed. You just refuse to see it.” The other lackey, who had been quiet up until now, let out a short, nervous laugh. “Maybe we should just… let him go, Greg. It’s not worth the tro

99The tension between Dylan and Gregory was thick, like a storm that was about to break. Gregory, unwilling to back down, waved his lackeys over with a sharp gesture, barking, “Come on, get over here!”Reluctantly, the others hesitated for a brief moment. They had seen the situation spiral from a playful challenge to something more dangerous, and none of them wanted to be caught in the middle. But they had no choice; Gregory was their leader, and they had to follow his orders. One by one, they moved into position, forming a human barricade between Dylan and his car.Dylan watched them with a cold, unblinking stare, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. His knuckles were white, and the anger simmering beneath the surface was almost palpable. He exhaled sharply, debating whether to stay calm or just push them out of the way. He could easily force his way through. After all, this was his car, his time being wasted. But as his eyes flicked from one man to the next, his temper flared