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Ivy's eyes searched his, desperately looking for a shred of the man she thought she knew, the man who had shown her a glimpse of kindness and vulnerability. But all she found was cold, hard resolve, a steely determination that sent a chill down her spine. "And what is the truth?" she demanded, her voice trembling, fueled by a desperate need to understand.

"The truth," he began, his voice heavy with the weight of his revelation, his eyes fixed on hers, "is that James is not who you think he is. He's been playing a dangerous game, using youas his pawn to take me down. He would have kept on playing, until he got what he wanted.

Regardless of if you got hurt. Which you would have if I didn't protect you."

"Why would you protect me?" she repeated, her voice a broken whisper, her gaze searching his for any sign of sincerity. "What do you want from me? What's you're game?"

Vice's gaze softened slightly, a flicker of something akin to tenderness entering his eyes, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush a lock of hair from her face. "Ivy," he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading, "Ivy, I admit my intentions weren't pure when you came to me with you're deal. I took you to hurt James. To use you against him."

Ivy cut Vice off, her voice laced with bitterness and pain. "That's why you wanted all of me.

My mind, body, and soul, to hurt James." The revelation was a sharp, agonizing twist of the knife. The look of hurt was written all over her face, betraying the depth of her wounded emotions.

Vice nodded, his jaw clenched, acknowledging the truth of her words.

The room was silent except for the heavy breathing of the three of them, each lost in their own tumultuous thoughts, grappling with the tangled web of lies and betrayals. Ivy felt a whirlwind of emotions — betrayal, anger, hurt, confusion, but also a strange sense of relief, a flicker of hope that perhaps, amidst all the darkness, there was a spark of genuine connection.

Then Vice spoke his voice was low, but it carried a weight that pressed into her chest. “I didn’t plan this,” he said. “I thought I was in control. I wanted you're obedience. That’s how it started.”

He took a step closer, his eyes searching hers like they held a truth he couldn’t speak aloud. “But you… you’re a storm I never saw coming. You tore through everything I built to protect myself. Every wall, every boundary—gone.”

His hand reached out, brushing against hers, trembling slightly. “You’re not light, and you’re not darkness either. You’re something in between… a twilight that wraps around the soul. Beautiful. Unsettling. Familiar in a way that makes me feel like I’ve known you in every lifetime.”

Ivy’s breath caught, her heart pounding, but he wasn’t finished.

“You’re so fucking messed up, Ivy,” he said, the words trembling with admiration and pain. “You’re all edges and fire and scars, but God—you're perfect. Not despite those things—because of them. You’re the most fucked up, perfect thing I’ve ever touched, and you make everything else I’ve known feel shallow.”

He took another step, and his voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. “And when you're near me, I can't fucking breathe. I feel like I’m drowning in you, but I don’t want to come up for air. I want to stay there.”

He paused, his jaw tightening as his gaze shifted, if only for a second, to James. Then he looked back at her—only at her.

“You were never the problem, Ivy,” Vice said, voice steady now, fierce with conviction. “You were never too much.You were never hard to love. You were just giving you're heart—you're wild, beautiful love—to people who didn’t deserve to hold it.”

He nodded toward James without breaking eye contact. “He didn’t see you. Not really.”

James stiffened, his glare sharp and silent, but he said nothing. The weight of Vice’s words held the room in a hush.

Vice stepped even closer, now inches away, and whispered, “But I see you. All of you. And you—just as you are—are enough for me.”

"Ivy, I'm sorry," Vice said, his voice thick with emotion, the sound raw and sincere.

But before he could say more, before she could fully absorb the weight of his confession, James grabbed her roughly by the arm and yanked her backward, shattering the fragile moment of connection. "You want her?" He sneered, spit flying from his mouth, his face contorted with rage. “Come get her.” With a brutal shove, fueled by jealousy and spite, he sent Ivy flying over the edge of the stairs, her body tumbling into the abyss.

Vice roared, a primal sound that seemed to shake the very foundation of the fortress. It was the sound of a predator, unleashed and untamed, a raw expression of anguish and fury.

He launched himself off the edge of the stairs, his powerful legs propelling him forward, defying gravity in his desperate attempt to save her. Time stretched out into an eternal second as she fell, her scream echoing in the vast, cold space, a sound that tore at his soul.

Vice felt the air rush past him as he dove, his heart hammering in his chest with a fierce, primal need to save her, to protect her from the inevitable impact. He reached out, his arms spread wide, his fingers outstretched, and his fingers brushed hers, sending a jolt of electricity through his body, a spark of hope in the face of impending doom.

Their eyes met for a fraction of a second, hers wide with fear, his filled with a fiery determination that seemed to burn away the shadows around them. And then, just as the ground rushed up to meet her, he had her. His powerful arms wrapped around her, crushing her against his chest, shielding her from the fall. He pulled her close, holding her as if she was the only thing in the world that mattered, the only reason for his existence.

The impact was like nothing Ivy had ever felt before. One moment, she was braced for the inevitable, the next, she was hurtling through the air, shielded by Vice's larger frame. The ground shuddered beneath them as Vice hit the unforgiving stone floor with a force that sent shards of rock flying in every direction like deadly confetti. The sound was deafening, a monstrous roar that seemed to shake the very foundation of the ancient fortress, threatening to bring the entire structure down upon them. But above the chaos, all she could feel was the immediate, encompassing warmth of his body surrounding her, the frantic beat of his heart pounding against her own, a frantic drumbeat against the symphony of destruction.

For a moment, everything was still. The world held its breath. They lay in a tangled heap, a grotesque sculpture of flesh and bone against the cold stone. The air was thick with dust, stinging her nostrils and coating her tongue with a gritty film. The acrid scent of gunpowder hung heavy, a metallic tang thatmingled with the earthy smell of freshly broken rock. Silence, punctuated only by their ragged breathing, descended like a shroud.

"Ivy," Vice's voice was strained, a low rasp cutting through the stillness. His breathing was heavy, each inhale a labored effort. "Ivy, are you okay?" His words were laced with a desperate urgency, a palpable fear that belied his hardened exterior.

Her eyes fluttered open, her vision swimming, the world a blurry watercolor painting slowly coming into focus. She met his gaze, his eyes dark pools of concern reflecting the flickering light from the debris-strewn chamber. "I... think so," she murmured, her voice hoarse and scratchy from the scream that had been ripped from her throat, a primal cry swallowed by the deafening explosion.