Ivy White의 작품

Miles's POVThe second task was worse than the first.Not dangerous exactly, not yet, but ugly in a way that sat wrong in my chest for hours afterward. Moving something I wasn't allowed to look at from one point to another, timed to the minute, past two guards who somehow didn't see me even though I walked directly past both of them. I kept my head down and my steps even, the way I'd rehearsed in my head the night before, and somehow it worked.I didn't ask how that worked. I'd learned already that some questions got answered and some just got you a look that told you to stop talking.By the third task, I stopped flinching at the instructions before I'd even finished reading them. By the fourth, I'd learned to read Vincent's face for the difference between routine and risk, a skill I hadn't wanted and couldn't unlearn now that I had it."This one's simple," Vincent said, sliding another folded note across whatever surface happened to be between us that day. We never met in the same pl

Julian's POVThe report came in at eleven forty, the way most of them did. Vincent's reports never came at odd hours. He'd learned early on that consistency mattered to me more than urgency, that a problem reported calmly at a set time was easier to solve than one shouted through a locked door.I read it twice before setting it down. Not because it needed a second read. Because reading things twice was a habit that had kept me alive longer than most men in my line of work, and habits like that didn't get abandoned just because the information was simple.Smith had completed the task. Clean. No mistakes, no hesitation once the instructions were clear, no attempt to negotiate the terms after the fact the way some of them tried, thinking desperation gave them leverage. It didn't. It never had, not with anyone who'd ever tried it on me.Vincent stood across the desk, hands folded behind his back, waiting the way he always waited, patient in the specific manner of a man who'd learned patie

Miles's POVThey didn't cuff me, which somehow felt worse than if they had.Two men walked me through corridors I hadn't seen before, past checkpoints where guards nodded like this happened every night and required no paperwork at all. The deeper we went, the quieter the building got, until the usual noise of Blackgate, shouting, metal doors, distant radios, faded into something closer to silence. Nobody explained anything. I stopped asking questions after the second one went unanswered.We stopped outside a door that looked like every other door in this building, gray steel, no markings, nothing to suggest what was behind it. One of the men knocked twice, waited, then opened it and stepped aside.The room inside didn't belong in a prison.There was a real desk, a real chair, a bookshelf that actually had books on it instead of contraband. A man sat behind the desk reading a folder, and he didn't look up right away, taking his time in a way that made it clear the delay was intentional

Miles's POVNobody would say his name twice.I tried it on three different people that morning. The first one just walked away. The second one laughed like I'd told a joke he didn't find funny, then walked away too. The third one, a wiry guy stacking trays in the mess hall, actually stopped moving for a second."You asking about Hayes?" he said, keeping his voice low even though nobody else was close enough to hear."Trying to.""Don't.""Why not?"He set the tray down carefully, like the sound of it clattering might draw attention he didn't want. "Because asking is how people end up on his radar before they're ready for it. And you don't want to be on it before you're ready."I wanted to ask what "ready" meant. He was already gone before I got the chance.By midday I'd pieced together enough to know the shape of it, even if the details stayed blurry. Julian Hayes ran this place. Not officially. Officially there were wardens and guards and a chain of command that looked exactly like e

Miles's POVThe first punch caught me in the ribs before I even saw who threw it.I'd been inside Blackgate for exactly six hours. Long enough to learn where my bunk was, long enough to learn the guards didn't bother remembering names, not long enough to learn anything that actually mattered.I stumbled into the concrete wall, air punched out of my lungs, and by the time I turned around there were three of them. Big. Slow. The kind of slow that meant they'd never had to be fast, because nobody in here ever fought back long enough to make them work for it."Fresh meat," the one in front said. He had a shaved head and a scar that split his eyebrow in half. "Ellery's boy."I didn't answer. My hands were already up.The second one swung wide, telegraphing it a full second before his fist moved, and I ducked under it and drove my elbow into his gut. He folded, wheezing, and stumbled into the wall behind him. Scarhead came in fast after that, faster than I expected, and his knuckles caught

"You're in the wrong wing."Ivy stopped mid step, coffee cup still in hand, and turned to find a woman standing in the hallway watching her with an expression that managed to be warm and assessing at the exact same time. Dark hair, effortless elegance, the kind of beauty that didn't need to try, which somehow made it more intimidating instead of less."I'm sorry?""The kitchen you're looking for is on the other side of the house. This hallway just loops back to the studies." The woman smiled, easy and disarming. "I'm Sable. Kade's cousin. You must be Ivy.""I am." Ivy shifted the empty cup in her hands, embarrassed despite herself. She'd woken early, disoriented in the unfamiliar room, the ceiling too high and the silence too complete for her body to recognize it as safe enough for real sleep, and set out to find coffee with nothing but instinct guiding her, which had apparently failed spectacularly within the first ten minutes. "Nobody gave me a map.""Nobody ever does. This house wa

"You skipped a clause."Kade's voice stopped her hand halfway through the second page. Ivy looked up, pen still hovering, heart already hammering from the first signature she'd just given away."I didn't skip anything.""Page three. Section on outside contact." He reached across the desk and flipped the contract open to the marked page, tapping one line with two fingers. "You're required to disclose any communication with law enforcement, journalists, or rival family associates within twenty four hours. You read past it without initialing."Ivy's stomach turned. "You want me to report if I talk to a police officer.""I want to know if this house is compromised. There's a difference.""It doesn't feel like a difference. It feels like you're asking me to spy on myself."Something in his expression shifted, not softer exactly, but sharper with interest, like she'd said something he hadn't expected. "Most people don't argue clauses they've already agreed to marry into.""Most people proba

"Arms out."Ivy stared at the man in the black suit standing between her and the mansion's front entrance, his hands already gloved, his face giving her nothing to read. Behind him, the house rose up floor after floor of dark stone and darker windows, the kind of building that didn't need a name on the gate because everyone already knew what it was."Excuse me?""Arms out," he repeated. "Standard procedure. Everyone gets searched before they go in, including you.""I'm supposed to be marrying into this family in a few days. You're frisking me like I'm a threat.""Everyone's a threat until they're not." He didn't smile. "Arms out, or the car takes you home and someone else collects your brother's debt tonight."She raised her arms.His hands moved fast and impersonal, checking her jacket, her bag, the lining of her coat, and it took everything in her not to flinch away from the contact, not to let her face show how much she hated being handled like inventory. When he finished, he stepp

"I'm not letting you do this."Leo was on his feet now, blood dried at the corner of his mouth, blocking the hallway like his body alone could stop her from thinking. Ivy pushed past him toward the bathroom, grabbed a towel, pressed it into his hand instead of her own face."Hold that on your lip. You're still bleeding.""Ivy." He grabbed her wrist. "Look at me. You are not marrying a stranger because of what I did.""Then what am I supposed to do, Leo? Watch them kill you tonight instead?" Her voice cracked on the last word and she hated it, hated that after everything she still couldn't hold it steady. She pulled her wrist free. "Tell me the other option. I'm listening."He didn't have one. She watched it land on his face, the exact moment the anger drained out of him and left only the guilt underneath, raw and useless."I'll go to the police," he said, weaker than he meant it to sound."And say what. That you borrowed money from a man at a bar and it turned out to belong to the Cro

The door jerked open the instant Ivy turned the key. She froze on the threshold, grocery bag still hooked over one arm, staring at the two men standing in her brother's living room like they owned it. One of them had Leo by the collar, shoved back against the wall, his sneakers barely touching the floor. "Let him go." Her voice came out steadier than she felt. The man holding Leo turned his head, slow, unbothered. "You must be the sister." "I said let him go." "Ivy, don't." Leo's voice cracked. "Just go, get out of here, I'll handle it." "You'll handle it." The second man laughed, short and ugly. "That's cute. You had two months to handle it." Ivy set the grocery bag down without looking away from them. Her hands trembled, but her spine stayed straight, the way she'd learned to stand when landlords threatened eviction or collectors called for the fourth time in a day. Still. Calm on the outside. Let them think stillness meant she wasn't already calculating exits, distances, whe