WRITER'S POV:
The silence stretched. Ivy's anger sat in her chest like a weight, but the longer she stared at Cassius slumped on the edge of her bed, the more that weight shifted into confusion.
He still hadn't looked at her.
Then he spoke.
"I was fourteen when I stopped trusting people."
Ivy stayed quiet.
"My father died in a car crash. At least, that's what they told us. Later, I found out it wasn't an accident. It was leverage. A hit meant to destabilize everything."
He rubbed his eyes slowly. The voice he used now wasn't cold—it was tired. Raw.
"My mother... she wasn't built for softness. Not before. Definitely not after. She ran the estate like a company and raised me like a soldier. Her love came in silence and expectations. You either met the bar, or you were irrelevant."Ivy swallowed.
"Gina was a mistake."Cassius exhaled like he hated admitting it. "We met at a gala. She knew who I was. She was charming, calculated, made herself useful... until she decided she was permanent. I never told her that. She just moved herself in like a symptom."
"And your mother?"
"She tolerates Gina because she sees in her a mirror. A diluted one. But she doesn't like her. She just likes that she's not an emotional threat."He finally looked at Ivy."You are."She blinked.
"That's why she doesn't like you. And that's why I keep you here."
"Because I threaten your mother?"
"Because you threaten me."He didn't say it dramatically. He said it like it was math. Like it was gravity.Cassius laid back on her bed, flat, arms behind his head, eyes on the ceiling."Lay down."She stood still.
He didn't move, just pointed a finger vaguely to the spot beside him.Reluctantly, Ivy moved. Lay down stiffly. Stared at the ceiling too.
For a moment, they didn't speak.
Then, cautiously, she said, "You know... you could still consider letting me leave."Cassius exhaled.
"I heard you before," he said. "I'm going to think about it."A pause.Then he turned his head, eyes catching hers with a dangerous gleam.
"But first..."He rolled, fast, over her, pinning her down gently but firmly.
"You don't confront me in my own house and expect to walk away unpunished."Ivy's breath caught.
His mouth met hers with heat, no warning. The passion between them reignited like gasoline, their anger folding into something sharper, heavier, more intimate.
She gasped against his lips, his hands trailing her arms, her waist, grounding her in every motion.
Then—right in the middle of it—she blurted, "What about Gina? She's probably still in the—"Cassius hissed in irritation. He tapped her cheek—light, but with both index fingers. A sharp, sarcastic smack.He didn't move."Shut up." She shut up.They moved like the room might collapse. Like they were trying to ruin each other and couldn't quite succeed. The sheets tangled. Breath shortened.At the end of it, Ivy lay panting, hair wild, the air around her warm and buzzing."I hate you," she muttered.One standing.Cassius smirked faintly beside her. "I felt the same a long time ago... before you even opened your legs for me."She smacked his arm with a pillow.He caught it.And neither of them moved again for a very long time.