Dylan sat still as his father's favorite quote crossed his mind.
"Sometimes one creates a dynamic impression by saying something, and sometimes one creates a significant impression by remaining silent."
A storm brewed in his eyes, his gaze darkened, heavy with suppressed wrath. Dylan stealthily rose and crept toward the door, but before he could slip out, Philip crossed his path, willingly stepping into the lion's den of fury.
Philip's hands were buried in his pockets as he stared at the feet of Dylan "Check it is, isn't it?"
Dylan remained silent, the air between both men was venomous. Only if stares could kill, Philip would have dropped dead a long time ago. He stood like a giant before Philip who had no ounce of muscle. His chest was as flat as a wall while Dylan was built because he worked out so often at the gym. If they were to engage in combat Dylan would definitely emerge as the winner.
"Who do you think you are?"
Dylan's voice was low but carried an electrifying tension. His eyes, which were as dark as vintage cognac, bore holes into the soul of Philip, and again, if only stares could kill, Philip would have been long dead.
"Do you know who you are trying to mess with?"
Philip chuckled, laughing at Dylan just to get on his nerves.
"You act like a child, a spoiled brat, I wonder what Olivia saw in you. How disappointing, I expected my replacement to be a real man and not ..."
Dylan scrutinized Philip from head to toe and then completed Philip's sentence.
"And not a Dylan?" He grinned.
Dylan was beginning to understand why Philip had tagged him as an enemy. A big misunderstanding, Philip thinks Dylan is Olivia's new lover. Dylan wasn't going to clarify the mistake either. Two could play this game.
"A brat is better than a pant riper."
Dylan blurted out.
"Everyone knows what you are, I'm more disappointed she stooped so low for a serial cheater." Dylan continued, and Philip clenched his jaw tight; his face turned red with anger. Dylan seemed to know so much about him, perhaps Olivia was the one feeding him with all the information. Philip thought.
Dylan sneered, his eyes glinting with triumph knowing Philip was internally bleeding from all his hurtful words. "We can both agree on this one thing, Olivia doesn't want to have anything to do with you ever again. Stay away from her."
Anger was visible on Philip's face.
Dylan continued. "You're just trying to get under my skin. But it won't work. For the last time, get away from my sight. Olivia loves me now, and I love her, too."
Philip laughed, "Do you know the meaning of love? Olivia would never accept a person like you even in her next life." Philip got closer to Dylan and whispered, "Remember you've bought her, and don't forget, you're engaged with a child."
Dylan's anger took the best of him; he couldn't hold it anymore; Philip was biting more than he could chew. He took a step forward, his fists raised to punch him in the nose.
"Get out of my way, Philip," Dylan growled. "Don't make me vent my anger on you. You do not fucken know anything about me and certainly not about my past. I came here to warn you to stay away from us."
Philip did not flinch. Instead, a cold smile curved up his lips. "You'll never be hers, trust me. I will make sure she cries more than she was with me, Dylan. She was mine; she's mine, and she will forever be mine. And there's nothing you can do about it."
With full force, Dylan launched himself at Philip, but a guard intervened, pulling him back. The two men struggled, their faces red trying to calm Dylan. He was too strong for them.
"I promise you, Philip, you will regret it, you will hate yourself for daring to insult me today. Watch your back from now henceforth." Dylan spat out.
Philip shouted back at Dylan as he left the office, "If I were you, I'd be setting a date for us to negotiate!"
Allan, call Royston's and make a reservation. A table for two—we'll have steak," Dylan instructed as he stepped into his office. He sank into his chair, scanning the documents on his desk while replaying the events of the day in his mind.
"Count it done." Allan walked to the door but immediately halted as if he suddenly remembered something.
"Anyway, Laura called."
Dylan barely reacted, his gaze fixed on the desk, fingers absently tapping against the fine wood.
"Her father isn't dropping the case against you," Allan continued, his voice measured, watching and waiting for a reaction. When Dylan did not give any, he continued. "You might as well consider her deal."
Dylan finally looked up, his eyes narrowing, anger evident in them.
"She wants to be your partner," Allan explained. "Ten percent of the company's assets. In return, she'll talk to her father, get him to back off."
Silence filled the office.
Allan waited, giving Dylan time to process, but the man just sat there—motionless, expression unreadable. It was as if the words had drained the color from his face, leaving only the weight of realization behind.
"Dylan."
Still, no response.
Allan leaned on the table. "Look, I know it's not ideal, but you have to think logically. This lawsuit could bury you. If Laura's willing to step in, maybe—"
"No." The word was quiet but firm, final.
Allan studied him, then let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah? Then I hope you have another plan because right now, she's the only one offering you a way out. And…"
"And we are done talking about her; the answer is still no," Dylan said and stood up; I will see you tomorrow, Allan. Have a wonderful evening." He threw his suit over his shoulder, tapped his assistant on the back, and left.
A sleek black SUV pulled over in front of Olivia's house; stepping out of it was Dylan. He was costumed in a well-tailored midnight blue tuxedo, exuding luxury, as it caught light. The fabric was the finest from its source, perhaps just made for him. His white shirt, however, was crisp, fastened with diamond studded cufflinks. A silk black bow tie completed the whole outfit as it sat perfectly around his neck.
His expression was calm yet in his eyes was fear, which was a bit out of line for a man like him. But well, Olivia had this sort of effect on him. Which made him want to be nothing but better for her.
Dylan was dumbfounded when he got to the living, he was right on time. Olivia descended the stairs, draped in a simple black outfit, stunning in its simplicity and undeniably luxurious, underscoring every curve. Full breasts, a slim waist, and wide hips, the embodiment of desire. Around her neck lay an emerald pendant, obedient in its place, matching the delicate bracelet on her wrist."
"Ain't you a bit too early?" Olivia spoke first, her smile dissolving the fear in his eyes.
"Gentlemen are always a bit too early. And why are you a bit too pretty, a bit too confident, and a bit too sexy?"
"Well, pretty ladies are a bit too much of everything I guess." Dylan chuckled and extended his hand to take hers. Her phone buzzed; she checked the caller ID and looked at him with uncertainty.
"Who's that?" Dylan asked.
"Philip…" She shrugged, her voice soft, "I don't know what he wants." That son of a bitch, he must have meant everything he said. Dylan thought and pressed Olivia's hand tight.