Page 47

The sun had barely risen when Ivy awoke to find the bed cold beside her.

Vice had not returned after their intense encounter.

A shiver snaked down her spine despite the lingering warmth of the sheets.

She stretched out her hand, her fingers searching for the familiar heat of his body, only to grasp the emptiness where he should have been.

The events of the previous night played out in her mind like a tumultuous dream, a chaotic collage of passion and whispered secrets, leaving her feeling both hopeful and wary.

She slipped out of bed, her bare feet whispering against the cool stone floor.

The castle was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the passionate storm that had raged within its walls only hours before.

The only sounds were the distant echoes of the night’s residual tension, a palpable weight that seemed to cling to the very air. The silence felt heavy, expectant.

Ivy knew she had to act fast. Today was Vice’s birthday. She wanted to show him that she saw more than just the monster.

The kitchen had the faint smell of grease that clung to the stone walls.

Sunlight streamed in through a high window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air.

She had managed to bake and decorate the cake, a simple but heartfelt creation, hiding it in the bread box.

She then hurried back to her room to get ready, her heart racing with anticipation and a tremor of anxiety.

The dress she had chosen was a deep red.

It hugged her curves, emphasizing her waist and hips, and ended in a daring slit.

Her stomach fluttered with a mix of nerves and excitement as she made her way to the grand dining hall.

She had spent hours agonizing over what to wear.

As she descended the grand staircase, her black heels clicking against the cold stone in a rhythmic cadence, she caught a glimpse of him.

He was dressed in his usual attire, a stark black that seemed to absorb the light, making him seem even more menacing in the dimly lit room.

He sat with his back to her, seemingly lost in thought. So much so he didn't hear her come in.

Ivy took a deep breath and stepped closer, feeling the warmth of the candles on her skin.

She had to admit, there was something about him that drew her in.

Something she couldn't quite place, but it was there, pulsing like a heartbeat in the background of her mind.

The villain who held her captive had become something else. Something... more.

With a gentle touch, she leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek, her fingers lightly brushed against his jaw.

The softness of her lips was a stark contrast to the harshness of his stubble.

The suddenness of it took him by surprise.

His head whipped around, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers.

“Good evening, Vice," she said, she infused her voice with a soft, almost teasing, tone.

He stared at her, his jaw clenched, his usually expressionless face showed a flicker of surprise. "What's gotten into you?" his voice a low rumble, his eyes raking over her form in the red dress with an intensity that made her skin prickle.

"It’s a special night," Ivy replied, her voice a mix of sweetness and seduction.

Vice stared at Ivy, his gaze seemed to penetrate her very soul, searching for the truth she kept hidden beneath layers of charm and deception. "You're hiding something," he accused, his voice was low and dangerous, a warning.

"I'm not," Ivy replied, her smile fading only slightly. She tried to keep her voice light, her eyes shimmering with excitement she couldn't fully conceal. "I just had a... relaxing day."

Vice's gaze was unrelenting, his eyes searching hers for any tell that would betray her true intentions. "Relaxing?" He echoed her words, his voice laced with skepticism and a hint of something else, something that sounded almost like...curiosity?

Ivy nodded, her smile unwavering. "Yes, I took a bath, read a book," she shrugged, her eyes sparkling with the mischief she was trying to keep at bay. "It's just that today is special, you know."

Vice leaned back in his chair, his expression still guarded. "Is it?" he questioned, his voice a rumble of thunder in the quiet room.

"It's you're birthday," Ivy said simply, watching as realization dawned in his eyes. She couldn’t quite read his reaction. Was it anger, surprise, or something else entirely?

Vice's gaze narrowed, his expression unreadable. "How did you know?" he demanded, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down her spine.

"It's not exactly a secret," she said lightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Everyone has a birthday. I just thought it would be nice to celebrate.”

Vice's eyes searched hers, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Nice," he repeated, the word a sneer on his lips.

His anger grew with each passing second, a tempest brewing in his chest. The idea of her prying into his personal life, of her knowing something that no one knew infuriated him.

"You've been going through my things," he accused, his voice like a whip cracking, making Ivy flinch.

"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 firm but 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 be understood." 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 facade.

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.