Chapter 4 - THE DESPERATE GAMBIT"You can't do this!" Vivien shrieked as two burly security guards flanked her sides, their grips firm on her silk-clad arms. "I'll ruin you! I'll tell the press everything about the old syndicates, the smuggling, the blood money! I'll bring the whole Blackwood empire down with me!"
Senator Reeves tried to maintain a shred of dignity as Miller placed cold steel cuffs around his wrists, but his knees buckled under the weight of sheer panic. "Ronan, think of the party alignment! Think of what this does to the mayoral race! We can make a deal—"
"There are no deals with traitors," Ronan said flatly.
As the guards dragged Vivien screaming toward the service corridors, her diamond bracelet caught on a velvet drape, tearing it loose before she vanished into the dark hallway. The heavy oak doors slammed shut behind them, sealing their fate.
The ballroom exhaled a collective, trembling breath.
Within ten minutes, the elite guests had scrambled for the exits, eager to distance themselves from the scandal, leaving the grand hall nearly empty except for Ronan, Ivy, Malcolm, and a few loyal members of the domestic staff.
Ivy let out a long, slow breath, her shoulders dropping an inch. The adrenaline that had sustained her through the humiliation and the confrontation was beginning to fade, leaving a dull ache in her muscles.
"You handled that like a veteran chess grandmaster," Ronan said, turning to her with a look of genuine awe in his dark eyes.
"Survival teaches you how to see the board, Mr. Blackwood," Ivy replied softly, adjusting the coat on her shoulders. "Though I admit, I didn't expect you to tear up your own engagement party quite so thoroughly."
"An engagement built on lies and cruelty was already dead, Ivy. I just buried it." Ronan stepped closer, his gaze intense, stripping away the decades of armor he wore as a crime lord and businessman. "Now... let's get that shoulder properly looked after. And then, you are going to tell me everything my grandfather left in your care."
Ivy offered a faint, tired smile. "It's a very long story, Ronan."
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"I have all night," he replied quietly.
They walked side-by-side out of the ballroom, leaving the glittering chandeliers behind them. But as they entered the private east wing, neither of them noticed the small, blinking red light hidden inside the torn velvet drape Vivien had snagged on her way out—a live audio-feed transmitting every word straight to an unknown phone across the city.
