---
For the first time, Riven wasn't hovering.
He was… distant. Watching.
I thought it would feel like freedom.
It didn't.
It felt like walking blindfolded across thin glass — because now I wasn't just in Riven's twisted game.
Someone else had entered the board.
---
I found a note the next morning. No name. No signature. Just a message:
> "You're lovely when you're cornered. Shall we talk again, without the mask this time?
— Ivory."
---
Ivory.
That's what Riven called him.
He hadn't lied—there was someone worse than him.
And he was circling me now, like a shark scenting blood in the ocean.
---
Liam met me in the greenhouse that afternoon. Hidden between thorns and vines, we whispered beneath the glass ceiling, as if even the flowers could hear us.
Liam:
"You're not safe anymore."
"I was never safe."
"No," he said quietly, "but at least Riven wanted to keep you. This one… he just wants to break you."
---
I didn't ask how he knew.
Somehow, Liam always knew.
---
Me:
"What's his real name?"
Liam hesitated.
Then said, "Cyrus."
And I saw fear in Liam's eyes for the first time.
---
Liam:
"He's not part of Riven's empire. He's something older. Richer. Deeper. He trades in rare things—gems, weapons… people."
I swallowed. "Why me?"
"You're Riven's one flaw. His obsession. His only weakness."
---
And suddenly it made sense.
Cyrus wasn't interested in me.
He was interested in hurting Riven.
By taking away the only thing Riven couldn't replace.
---
That night, I didn't go to Riven. I went to Cyrus.
Not because I trusted him.
But because I needed to see the shape of the monster before it swallowed me whole.
---
He was waiting in the west wing. A private lounge filled with dim candlelight and walls of mirrors.
He didn't wear a mask this time.
Just a crisp suit and a lazy smile that felt like silk hiding a blade.
---
Cyrus:
"You're braver than I thought."
"Or dumber."
"I like both."
---
He poured a drink. Didn't offer me one.
"Tell me, pretty boy. What's the worst thing Riven's done to you?"
I didn't answer.
He chuckled.
"Fine. I'll go first."
---
Then he described Riven in ways I'd never heard.
As a boy who grew up locked in basements.
As a man who built empires not for power — but to make sure no one could ever lock him up again.
---
Cyrus:
"He doesn't love you. He needs you. And that's far more dangerous."
---
I tried to leave.
He blocked the door.
"No goodbye kiss?" he said, smirking.
I didn't flinch.
"Try it," I whispered, "and I'll bite off your tongue."
---
He laughed again.
But he let me go.
---
That night, I returned to my room — and found it trashed.
Riven stood in the middle, eyes wild, holding my broken phone in his hand.
---
Riven:
"You saw him."
It wasn't a question.
"Yes," I said.
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to know if I should be more afraid of him… or you."
---
Silence.
Then Riven stepped forward. Not to hit. Not to grab.
He knelt in front of me.
KNEELED.
And whispered, "Then let me remind you who owns your fear."
---
And for the first time, I realized something even more terrifying—
I didn't just fear him anymore.
Some twisted part of me…
Was starting to crave him.
---
[End of Chapter 19]
---