Dwayne's phone rang as the vibration hit hard against his palm, he held the phone before it could fall to the floor.
He closed his eyes for a moment as the screen lit up his face. It was a message from an unknown number.
Rubby felt worried all of a sudden. She got up from the bed where she was lying down.
"What is it?" she asked Dwayne. He did not utter a word. Dwayne's face got serious as he read the message on his phone.
Dwayne stood still holding the phone in his hand, the message burning into his mind.
"Love makes you predictable and also makes you useful". The message said.
"Dwayne, " she said, her voice sounding careful and fragile.
He did not answer right away. His eyes were still on the screen. He was not reading anymore. He was thinking, trying to understand the message.
"They did not want peace, " he said finally with a low and controlled voice.
Rubby's eyebrows came together. "What do you mean?" she asked.
He turned to her slowly, his face became darker than before. "The alliance, the gathering and choosing you was not an opportunity." He said in a tight voice.
He stopped for a moment. "It was a trap, " he said.
There was a heavy silence between them.
Rubby shook her head slightly. "No, that does not make sense, " she said.
Dwayne cut her off. "It makes sense, " he said quietly. "Think about it.
Two empires that have hated each other for decades, suddenly agree to unite through love?" He let out a breath. "That is not a strategy, it is desperation or manipulation."
Rubby's hand crossed. She thought fast, trying to catch up, resisting and then slowly accepting.
"Someone needed us to say yes " she whispered.
Dwayne nodded once.
"When we did, " he continued, "they needed chaos to follow."
Her eyes got wider. The gunshot and the attack were planned, " she said.
Rubby got up from the bed pacing slowly as her thoughts swirled. "But who benefits from this?" she asked, frustration creeping into her voice. "Both families are losing territory and unstable power is broken."
Dwayne watched her carefully.
"Exactly, " he said.
She turned and their eyes met each other.
Dwayne's face did not change. Something in his eyes got sharper.
Across the city inside the big house of the Tomlinson empire, silence felt different.
Samson Tomlinson stood near the glass window looking out at the river. The city lights reflected in his eyes. He was not admiring them.
He was thinking about control. A soldier came up behind him.
"Sir " the soldier said. "We found one of the attack routes tonight. It did not match our patterns or the Covingtons."
Samson did not turn. "Explain, " he said.
The soldier said, "They moved like trained units, but not ours or theirs."
That got Samson's attention. He slowly turned his eyes on the man. "So you are telling me " he said, his voice becoming calm but dangerous; "someone is operating inside my city, without my permission?"
The soldier swallowed. "Yes sir " he said.
There was a pause. Then Samson smiled. The soldier looked confused.
Samson stepped forward filling the room with his presence.
At the Covington house, tension filled every shadow.
Truman stood in the training hall with his knuckles bloody as he hit the punching bag again and again.
He was angry, confused and something deeper, something personal.
"Still hitting things while thinking?" a voice came from behind.
Truman, he turned.
Priscilla stood near the entrance watching him with concern and quiet strength.
"She is alive, " Truman said abruptly.
Priscilla's face softened. "You do not know that, " she said.
"I do, " Truman said, his voice firm. "I can feel it."
Priscilla walked closer, careful with her words. "If she is?" she asked.
Truman looked away, his jaw getting tighter.
"She is with him, " he said.
Priscilla did not deny it.
"Then find her, " she said gently.
Truman's eyes snapped back to hers. "And do what?" he asked. "Drag her back? Lock her away? Pretend she does not have a choice?"
Priscilla stepped closer, her voice lower. "You are not angry because she is with Dwayne, " she said.
Truman was silent, confirming it.
"You are angry, " Priscilla said, "because she chose something you could not control."
That hit Truman harder than any punch.
He looked away breathing heavier.
"She is walking into something, " he said quietly.
Priscilla nodded. "So are you, " she said.
Back in the hotel room the air felt heavier with every passing second.
Dwayne had moved to the window looking at the street. It was empty for now. He knew that they were never truly alone.
Rubby watched him from behind.
"You are thinking of going, " she said.
It was not a question.
He did not turn. "Running did not change anything, " he said.
"No, " Rubby agreed. " Going back might destroy everything."
He finally looked at her.
"Staying here will not?" he asked.
That shut her up. He stepped away from the window, moving closer to her again more deliberately.
"They want us alive, " he said. "At least for now."
Rubby frowned. "How do you know?" she asked.
"Because we are useful, " he said.
The word lingered, uncomfortable and real.
"As long as we are useful" he continued, "we have power."
Rubby studied his face carefully. "You are not planning to fight this directly, are you?" she asked.
A fainting dangerous smile touched his lips. "No, " he said. " What?" she asked.
He leaned closer, his voice lowered, just like a whisper.
"We'll find out who is pulling the strings, he said".
"Our families?" she asked quietly.
Dwayne's face got harder. "They are already part of the game, " he said.
There was a knock at the door. Both of them froze. Dwayne's hand moved instinctively reaching under the pillow for his gun. Rubby stepped back, her pulse quickening.
The knock came again slower and deliberate.
Dwayne moved silently to the door positioning himself beside it.
"Who is it?" he asked. There was a pause. Then "Room service."
Dwayne's eyes got darker because they had not ordered anything.
Rubby shook her head confirming it. Then they heard the third knock, softer and patient.
Dwayne slowly lifted the gun, his finger near the trigger.
"Step back " he whispered to Rubby.
He reached for the handle, paused and then the door burst open.
Then a man entered the room, not dressed like a hotel staff but like a soldier with a phone in his hand.
Dwayne squatted down, picking it up carefully.
A message was on the screen unread. He opened it. Rubby leaned closer reading over his shoulder.
Phase one completed, the message said. Phase two just about to start.