128 The air outside the restaurant was thick with tension, but Dylan barely seemed to notice. He and Olivia strolled down the pavement, the streetlights casting a warm glow on the sidewalk. Olivia glanced over her shoulder, her brows slightly furrowed as she took in Bobby and Jane’s expressions—shock, confusion, maybe even fear. “You really have a way of making enemies,” she murmured, though this time, her tone held something new. Uncertainty. Because she had thought she knew Dylan—rich, sure, but not this. Not the kind of power that left people like Bobby and Jane speechless. Dylan smirked. “It’s a gift.” Behind them, Bobby finally seemed to snap out of his stunned silence. His face was still burning with humiliation, but now, beneath the rage, there was something else—doubt. “You think this is over?” he hissed, but his voice wasn’t as strong as before. Dylan didn’t even bother turning around. “You keep saying that, Bobby, but the funny thing is… it kinda feels over.” Olivia

134Dylan stepped over the shattered remnants of his front door, his boots crunching against the broken glass scattered across the floor. The place was a wreck—furniture overturned, papers strewn everywhere, as if someone had deliberately torn through his home in search of something. His jaw clenched, muscles taut with fury as his eyes swept the room. There had to be a clue. Something. Anything.His feet carried him down the hall, straight to her room. The air was thick with dust and lingering perfume, a cruel reminder that she had once been here. His gaze locked onto the desk, where a single red envelope sat neatly, untouched amid the chaos.Dylan’s breath hitched. That emblem. The wax seal bore the unmistakable mark of Victor Castellano.With steady hands, he broke the seal and unfolded the message inside. His eyes skimmed over the words, each letter twisting the knife deeper into his gut.“You shouldn’t have come back. She is safe… for now.”His fingers tightened around the note, c

136: Seraphina’s BetrayalThe door behind them splintered as bullets tore through the wood. The deafening blasts sent panicked screams rippling through the casino.Dylan reacted instantly, shoving Victor down and flipping the table for cover just as another hail of bullets shredded the air above them.Shouts and terrified cries filled the air.“Oh my God! They’re shooting!”“Get down! Somebody help!”“What the hell is happening? This is a casino, not a war zone!”Guests ducked beneath tables, some sobbing, others frozen in shock. The roulette wheel spun idly, chips scattered across the floor, forgotten in the chaos. Dealers had long abandoned their stations, diving for cover alongside their customers.A man in a suit clutched his bleeding arm, wailing, “I’ve been shot! Someone call an ambulance!”“They’ve got guns! Who are they after?”Then, cutting through the hysteria, came something that made Dylan’s blood run cold.“Dylan Grenville!”The voice rang out over the chaos, clear and de

138Dylan stormed through the dark alley, the cold night air doing little to soothe the boiling fury churning inside him. The world felt wrong, like everything was shifting beneath him. Betrayal hung in the air, suffocating him. His phone, clutched tightly in his hand, seemed almost like a lifeline, a tether to whatever thread of control he still had left.His thumb swiped across the screen, and he dialed Martin’s number without hesitation. He needed answers. His pulse pounded in his ears, and his chest tightened as the phone rang. Once. Twice. A third time.Then finally, the call connected, and Dylan’s blood ran cold at the sound of Martin’s voice.“Yeah?” Martin answered, a slight edge to his voice, but nothing that hinted at the urgency in Dylan’s heart.Dylan’s grip on the phone tightened to the point of pain, his knuckles white. “You better have a damn good explanation, Martin.”There was a brief silence on the other end. Dylan could hear the faint sound of shuffling—like Martin

140: The Waiting TrapThe night air clung to Dylan like a second skin as he approached the massive estate. The towering iron gates loomed before him, their intricate designs casting eerie shadows in the dim light. Beyond them, the house stood still. Silent. Too silent.Something was wrong.No guards. No movement. Not even the flicker of a light inside. This was not the setup Dylan had anticipated. He’d been expecting a fight—gunmen, guards, or at least a few hidden cameras—but all he got was silence. A silence so thick, it felt like it was pressing down on him, suffocating him with the weight of something sinister.Ezra’s warning echoed in his mind.“She’s waiting for you, Grenville. Don’t be an idiot—it’s a trap.”Dylan had known that before Ezra even said it. Seraphina was many things—vindictive, calculating, ruthless—but careless wasn’t one of them. And leaving her home unguarded? That wasn’t just careless.It was an invitation.A taunt.He sighed, rolling his shoulders, loosening