Chapter 4 - The Fall of the House of Hale
Arthur Hale dropped his cognac glass. It shattered against the hardwood floor, dark amber liquid pooling around his leather shoes like blood.
"You... you called the Feds?" Arthur stammered, backing away toward the fireplace as the agents closed in, snapping steel handcuffs around his wrists. "Ronan! You're a Blackwood! We don't talk to federal agents!"
"I don't," Ronan said smoothly. "Miss Lancaster does. She has been working as a confidential informant for the Department of Justice for eight months—under my direct authorization."
Vivien screamed, lunging toward Ivy with her manicured nails raised. "You bitch! You ruined my life! You ruined everything!"
Before Vivien could reach Ivy, Ronan moved with frightening speed. He intercepted Vivien, grabbing her wrist firmly in mid-air, holding her three inches away from Ivy.
"One year ago," Ronan said, looking down into Vivien’s hysterical face, "I agreed to an engagement of convenience with you because your father promised it would unify the Grayhaven harbor district without bloodshed. I tolerated your vanity, your arrogance, and your cruelty toward my staff."
He released her wrist with an expression of profound disgust.
"But tonight, you brought a weapon into my home," Ronan said. "You struck the woman who built the foundation I stand on. You are stripped of your title, your accounts are frozen, and by midnight, your family name will be erased from every board in this city."
"Ronan, please!" Vivien wept, falling to her knees, clutching the hem of his trousers. "I didn't know! I swear I didn't know who she was! I’ll apologize! I’ll bow to her!"
"Get her out of my sight," Ronan commanded.
Two security guards stepped into the library, hauling the weeping Vivien to her feet and dragging her out through the side doors alongside her handcuffed father.
The library returned to silence.
Ivy stood near the desk, holding her tablet, her face pale. Now that the adrenaline of the confrontation had faded, the exhaustion of three years of living a double life seemed to settle onto her shoulders.
Ronan turned to her. The cold, ruthless mafia boss vanished entirely, replaced by a man looking at the person who held his heart.
"Are you alright, Ivy?" he asked softly.
Ivy looked down at her hands, then up into his dark eyes. "I'm tired, Ronan."
It was the first time she had called him by his first name in front of others.
May you like
Ronan walked over to her, reaching out with both hands to gently take her tablet, setting it down on the desk. He took her soft, small hands in his own heavy palms.
"The lie is over, Ivy," Ronan whispered. "No more aprons. No more hiding in the shadows of this house."
