Chapter 5 IVY'S POV

"That ring belonged to your father?"

Lucien didn't speak. He stared at the silver band in the box like it might bite him. His fingers hovered over it, unmoving, while the words on the note bled into the table like poison.

"You need to tell me what's going on."

His jaw tensed. "This is Marcus."

"Who is Marcus to you, really?"

"My father's second-in-command. His shadow. His problem. And now mine."

"You're going to need to be more specific than that."

Lucien turned to face me. "He built parts of my father's empire. The ones no one talks about. Offshore accounts. Dirty real estate. Quiet bribes. All the things my father wanted to hide behind my clean image."

"So he knows things about your family."

"He knows everything."

"And now he's sending rings with death threats attached?"

Lucien snapped the box shut. "It's not a threat."

I stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"It's a message."

"That sounds like a threat to me."

"It's a warning. Marcus doesn't want me dead. He wants me to kneel."

I stepped back. "And what happens if you don't?"

"He starts targeting everyone I've touched."

"You mean me."

"I mean both of you. You and your sister."

"This is insane."

"That's why I wanted to speed up the wedding. Once we're legally bound, he can't touch you without turning the press on himself."

"You think a ring and a few photos will stop someone like Marcus?"

"I think a scandal will."

"You underestimate what people like him are willing to do."

"I've seen what he's willing to do. That's why I'm still standing."

I crossed my arms. "You should have told me from the start. About Marcus. About the ring. About the photo. All of it."

"I didn't think it would touch you."

"That's the problem. You don't think things touch me. But they do."

He looked at me like he wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't form. Maybe guilt didn't come naturally to Lucien Deveraux.

"I need space," I said.

"Ivy."

"I mean it. I need to breathe without you standing three feet away from me deciding how the world spins."

"Where will you go?"

"Nowhere. I'll stay here. But I want a lock on my bedroom. I want a guard for Mia who reports only to me. And I want answers when I ask questions."

"Fine."

"And if I feel like you're hiding something else from me, I'm out."

"You walk out now, you become a target again."

"Then make sure I don't want to walk."

Mia sat curled on the couch with a mug of tea, the photo of our mother nowhere in sight. Her knees were tucked under her hoodie, and her eyes were rimmed with exhaustion.

"You okay?" I asked, sitting beside her.

"Not really. But I guess that's the theme of the week."

"Lucien's tightening security. You'll be safe here."

"I don't want to be here."

"I know."

She turned toward me. "Why didn't you tell me he knew Mom?"

"Because I didn't know either. Not until today."

"And you believe him?"

I hesitated. "I don't think he's lying about her. I think he's lying about everything else."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to marry him."

Her eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"It's the only way to make this whole thing stick. Once it's public, Marcus loses leverage."

"You're tying yourself to someone who manipulates everything around him."

"And I'm doing it for you."

"I never asked you to."

"You didn't have to."

She dropped her head against my shoulder. "This doesn't feel like love."

"It's not."

"Then what is it?"

"A transaction. With terms. With rules. With an expiration date."

"And what if he breaks the rules?"

"Then he learns what happens when you underestimate a Monroe."

Two days passed.

Lucien kept his distance. Security doubled. Mia got a new nurse and a new doctor, both under fake names. I stayed in my room, except for the wedding fittings, which were clinical and cold.

"I need something that doesn't scream hostage bride," I told the stylist.

She blinked. "What sort of look are you going for?"

"Confident. Controlled. Like I'm the one choosing him."

"That can be arranged."

Lucien never commented on the dress.

He only nodded when I walked past the hallway with it hanging over my arm.

The night before the ceremony, I found him on the balcony with a glass of something expensive and a look that didn't belong to a man getting married in the morning.

"You always drink alone?"

"Only when I need to remember who I am."

"Scotch helps with that?"

"It numbs everything else. Makes the rest easier to hold."

"What's the rest?"

He didn't answer.

I stepped closer. "Is this where you tell me you've changed your mind?"

"No."

"Then what is this?"

"This is me trying to figure out if I deserve any of this."

"Any of what?"

"The money. The power. You."

"You don't have me. Not really."

He looked at me. "Then why are you still here?"

"Because I said I would be. Because I don't run from fire unless it's already burning me."

"You don't have to marry me."

"Yes, I do."

"You don't."

"Lucien."

"You could walk right now, Ivy. I'd still pay for her care. I'd still keep her safe."

"Why?"

"Because she's part of you. And you're the first person who ever looked at me like I was worth saving."

I stared at him.

"You never even liked me."

"I didn't have to like you to want you."

"And now?"

"Now I want to protect you more than I want to win."

I looked away. "You always know the right thing to say."

"No. I just know how to speak the truth when I finally decide it matters."

I turned to leave.

"Wait."

I paused.

"I need to tell you something before we do this tomorrow."

"What?"

"It's about your mother."

My pulse spiked. "What now?"

"I told you we weren't involved. That was a lie."

"You said she helped you."

"She did. But she also meant something to me. More than I realized until after she was gone."

I took a step back.

"Are you saying you were in love with her?"

He didn't look away. "Yes."

My throat tightened.

"Does Mia know?"

"No. And I don't want her to. It would break her."

"And it doesn't break me?"

"I thought you could handle it."

"You thought I wouldn't care?"

"I thought you'd be honest with me about what you want after I told you."

"What I want is a reason to still go through with this."

Lucien stepped closer.

"You still have it. But you need to understand, I never loved her the way I look at you."

"You don't even know how you look at me."

"I do."

"Then prove it."

He reached for me.

I let him touch me.

But just as his hand brushed mine, the balcony light flickered.

Lucien turned toward the security camera mounted on the far corner.

The red light was off.

"That's not right," he muttered.

"What?"

He moved fast, back inside, toward the hallway screen.

He tapped the feed.

Blank.

Then static.

Then one image blinked onto the monitor.

Marcus.

Standing in the lobby.

With a priest.

And a marriage license.