~Blackwood's private study~
dark wood paneling, heavy curtains blocking out light, an intimidating aura hangs in the air.
Blackwood storms into the room, the sharp click of his shoes echoing off the walls. He slams a thick dossier down on the polished mahogany desk, sending papers fluttering. His eyes are wild with fury.
"Three different groups want you dead, Ivy. Bounty hunters, mercenaries, spies—each with their own reasons to hunt you. Do you even understand the nightmare you're dragging this family into?"
Ivy, leaning against a side cabinet, crosses her arms with a cold smirk. Her voice is calm, almost defiant.
"Let them come. I'm not afraid."
Blackwood's hands clench into fists, knocking over a glass of whiskey. The amber liquid spills like blood on the desk. "This isn't some game for you to play with your life. Your brother—your *own* blood—is a pawn in this war, and if you keep pushing, you'll lose him."
Ivy's smirk fades; her eyes flash with pain and fury. She steps forward, voice low but razor sharp.
"You use him as a hostage. A damn bargaining chip to keep me in line. You think that's protection? That's cruelty. You're nothing but a tyrant—"
Her voice cracks with emotion, but she forces the words out, the raw truth slicing through the room. "A curse on this family. You destroyed everything we had."
Blackwood's face twists, a mix of rage and something darker—regret, maybe. His voice drops to a harsh whisper, "I'm doing what has to be done. Your brother's safety, the family's empire—it all depends on me keeping control. You think the world cares about your feelings?"
Ivy's fists ball at her sides. "I'm done living in your shadow, in your prison. You think your threats scare me? You don't own me. Not anymore."
Blackwood's eyes burn with cold fury as he steps closer, towering over her. "Watch your mouth. Cross me and I will bury you faster than you can breathe."
Ivy meets his gaze, unflinching, voice steady but filled with fire. "I'd rather die fighting you than live a lie under your control."
For a tense moment, the room is still, the only sound their heavy breathing. Blackwood's hand rises like he might strike—but instead, he lets it fall. His voice is low, warning but almost… vulnerable.
"This isn't over, Ivy. Not by a long shot."
Ivy turns sharply toward the door, her words chilling as a blade.
"Good. Because I'm done playing your game. And next time, I'm coming for you."
She exits, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving Blackwood alone in the dim room, the weight of his failures pressing down.
Ivy slammed the door behind her, the sharp sound echoing through the cold, silent hallway. Her chest heaved, heart pounding with a mix of anger and exhaustion. Every word from her father's lips still burned in her mind—his threats, his icy control over her life and her brother's fate.
She leaned against the cool wall, closing her eyes as memories flooded her mind—years of silent suffering, sacrifices made in the shadows, and promises broken by the man she once called Dad.
Images flashed in her mind: her brother's pale face, the pain he endured locked away; the countless times she tried to fight back but was pulled under by fear and helplessness. The weight of it all pressed down like a storm cloud, threatening to drown her.
And then, like a dagger, the bitter realization stabbed through her heart—he used her brother as a pawn, a cruel leverage she could never escape.
A single tear escaped, tracing a cold line down her cheek as she whispered through clenched teeth, "Damn you, Dad. Damn you for everything."
The walls around her seemed to close in, but beneath the pain, a fierce resolve began to spark. This was no longer just about survival—it was war 😤😤
~ flash back ..~