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"No," she replied quickly, her eyes wide with innocence. "I found a book in the library," she said, her voice shaking slightly. She watched as he clenched his fists. His knuckles turned white with tension.

Vice took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. His eyes remained fixed on hers, his gaze unyielding. "A book," he said slowly, his voice a mix of doubt and anger.

Ivy nodded, her heart racing. "It was just an accident," she said, her voice a little too high. "I didn't mean to pry."

Vice's gaze remained unrelenting. "What book?" he asked, his tone clipped.

Ivy took a deep breath, steeling herself. "The one about turtles," she said, her voice barely audible.

Vice's eyes narrowed even further. "Turtles?" he repeated, his tone incredulous.

Ivy nodded, her pulse racing in her throat. "It was just... I saw the date scribbled on the inside cover, and I thought maybe it was important to you," she said, her voice trembling slightly. “And I made you a cake, it’s in the kitchen.”

Vice got up from his chair so abruptly it scraped against the stone floor. He stalked towards her, his eyes like ice. Before she could react, his hand was around her throat, his grip firmbut not yet tight. The room grew colder, the air thick with the promise of violence.

"You dare to lie to me," he hissed, his breath hot against her cheek.

"I'm not!" she choked out, her eyes wide with fear. "Please, I swear."

Vice's grip tightened, lifting her slightly off the ground. "You dare to play games with me, Ivy?" His voice was a menacing whisper.

Tears welled in her eyes as she gasped for breath. "Please," she managed to croak out, "I'm telling the truth."

Vice slammed her against the table, the force sending plates and silverware clattering to the floor. His grip on her throat didn't loosen, but his eyes searched hers with a ferocity that was almost desperate. "Tell me the truth," he demanded, "and maybe I won't kill you."

Ivy's eyes grew wider with each word, but she held his gaze, her own desperation burning through the fear. "I found it by accident," she rasped, "I swear."

Vice studied her, his thumb pressing against her pulse. The silence was deafening, the only sound the harsh rhythm of their breathing.

"Why would you care about my birthday?" he sneered, his voice a deadly whisper. His grip on her throat didn't ease, but his eyes searched hers with a new intensity, as if he was looking for something he hadn't seen before.

Ivy's breath was shallow, the pressure on her throat making it difficult to speak. "Because" she rasped, "I don't see you as just a villain. There's more to you, Vice."

The room grew taut with the weight of her words. For a moment, his grip loosened, allowing her to take in a desperate gulp of air. Then his hand was gone, leaving her trembling and gasping for breath. He stepped back, his eyes still boring into her. "Why?" he asked, the single syllable echoing through the chamber.

Ivy nodded, her throat aching. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, but the truth was a force that couldn’t be contained. "You're a man," she said, her voice shaky but determined, "With feelings, with a past, with... needs."

Vice’s expression didn’t change, but she could feel the tension in his body, the coiled energy just beneath the surface, ready to pounce. "And what makes you think you know anything about what I need?"

"Because," she whispered, "I've felt it."

Vice's eyes narrowed and he furrowed his brows, his jaw ticked. "Felt what?"

"Your pain," she murmured, reaching up to touch his cheek. "Your loneliness."

Vice's hand shot out, catching her wrist mid-air. His eyes searched hers, looking for the lie he was sure was there. But all he saw was sincerity. It was unnerving. "Why would you care?" he repeated, his voice low and gruff.

Ivy took another trembling breath. "Because" she began, her voice stronger now, "Everyone deserves to be seen. To beunderstood." She swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her ears. "You're not just a monster, Vice. You're a man with a heart, even if it's hidden behind layers of anger and armor."

Vice's grip on her wrist didn't loosen, but his eyes searched hers, as if looking for a crack in her façade. The silence stretched on, each moment feeling like an eternity. Then, slowly, something in him seemed to give way. He took a step closer, his hand moving from her wrist to her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin with surprising tenderness. "I am not a man who deserves you're kindness." he stated, his voice barely a murmur.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she searched his eyes, looking for any hint of the softness she had seen the night before. "But you are," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You're more than just the monster you've become."

His gaze bore into hers, his grip unyielding. "You think you know me," he said, his voice a low, dark rumble. "But you don't. No one does."

Ivy felt a shiver of fear run down her spine, but she didn't pull away. "I want to," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her chest. "I want to know the man behind the mask."

Vice's eyes searched hers, his grip loosening slightly. For a moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of something vulnerable, something that made her heart ache. "What if what you find is too much?" he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "What if you wish you had never looked?"