chapter four

The evening drew near to the end. Luxurious cars that had been parked outside came to collect wealthy men and women from the building. Their chests held high, the women hoisted their gowns to display their wealth among the others.

To see who had the richest husband. Behind the walls, Mr. White and Riven sat in his secret office. Two of Riven's bodyguards and six bodyguards accompanied Mr. White three outside the door and three inside the room.

The two men stared at each other. Mr. White desperately tried to hide the fear in his eyes. To everyone else in the room he hid it perfectly, but to Riven it was as bold as the sun markedly visible, like a pimple on a teenage girl's face.

Riven stilly tapped his foot; the sound was barely audible.

The floor was a wooden floor perfectly grained and polished. The couch in the room was crafted from vintage leather; a golden chandelier hung above, and a shelf full of books lined the wall. It screamed luxury but was quiet, modern, and simple.

The two men just stared at each other until Riven made a quick move, standing up. Mr. White and his bodyguards thought he was making a move; four men quickly reached for their pockets, but Riven only laughed mocking.

"Gentlemen, calm down. I'm just getting some whiskey what's the harm?" he said, drawing a bottle of aged whiskey from a hidden safe. A sly smile played on his face. How pathetic, he thought.

"Mr. White, when did you become so…" he dragged the word, searching for the perfect sting, "…fragile?" he finished, taking a seat.

He poured a measure of whiskey into a crystal glass, closed the bottle, and drank. Mr. White shifted, uncomfortable.

What is he doing? Does he think I cannot afford a glass of whiskey? he thought to himself.

"No, Mr. White don't think that. Please. I know you can afford whiskey, but I just prefer not to share with anyone, especially when it comes to sharing with my greatest allies," Riven said, smirking.

What? How did he know that? Is he a mind reader now?

"You know, Mr. White, I can read a man's thoughts perfectly," he continued. "It's a skill I learned from my father whom you, unfortunately, killed." His mouth twisted as he sucked in the bitterness of the words.

"Anyway that's the past, isn't it?" he asked sharply, putting down his whiskey glass with a loud, deliberate clink.

"What do you want, Riven?" Mr. White spoke, trying to give no emotion away but failing miserably.

"That's what I love about you, Mr. White," Riven replied, amused. "You're the kind of man who does not waste time you get straight to the point. Well, Mr. White, no matter how much we try to forget the past, it is always there. Yes, I can't change it, but at the same time I can't ignore what you did to my entire family, Mr. White." His voice tightened. "No, I cannot."

Mr. White's heart pounded; his hands moved closer to his gun, but Riven noticed the motion.

"Mr. White, how do you expect me to take you seriously when you are so easily agitated?" Riven asked, his tone deceptively calm. "Trust me if I wanted to take you out, it would not be that easy. After the pain you put me through, Mr. White, I will exact my revenge in a way that will slowly destroy you."

"And how are you going to do that?" Mr. White snapped, trying to sound brave and nonchalant. "You forget I am a man without weakness."

"That's where you're wrong, Mr. White," Riven said, pulling something from his pocket a small black dice, onyx with silver pips. He rolled it between his fingers with casual precision. "I have always imagined ways I could slowly but painfully take my revenge ways that would leave you alive and dying at the same time. And how better than to watch your two little daughters"

"Don't you dare talk about my daughters!!" Mr. White roared, jumping to his feet in fury and giving Riven exactly the reaction he wanted.

"No, no, don't get me wrong, Mr. White," Riven soothed, the cruelty in his voice wrapped in lacquered calm. "I am not as ruthless as you , not unless you refuse my offer." He toyed with the dice, solving it mindlessly in less than a minute, the small squares clicking softly as he set it down.

"I am not carrying on with this discussion," Mr. White snapped, pushing to his feet; anger flamed across his face.

"I would think twice before exiting that door, Mr. White. You know how cunning I am and to what lengths I will go to get what I want," Riven warned, the threat coiling beneath each syllable.

"And I think you have forgotten how ruthless I am — I am Riven." Mr. White clicked his tongue, veins at his temple tightening, his eyes threatening to bulge.

He turned to walk away when Riven cut in, low and cold: "If you walk out that door, Mr. White, I'm afraid you might lose your daughter forever." Mr. White froze; his fists clenched until his knuckles went white.

"Poor little girl — unable to scream or speak — was locked up and put into my mercy thirty minutes ago, Mr. White. And your pathetic, so-called 'cold' guards…" Riven's smirk widened into something sharp. "Mmm. Be careful whom you trust." At once, the guards flanking Mr. White leveled their weapons towards him

Betrayal flashed in Mr. White's eyes — venomous truth. All along he'd been walking among traitors, deadly vipers disguised in silk.

"I'm always ten steps ahead of you, Mr. White," Riven said as he slid back into his chair, the motion lazy, measured. He toyed with the edge of his glass, the crystal chiming softly. "So you either sit down and hear my deal — or what?" He fiddled with his tongue, amusement threaded through menace.

Mr. White stared at him, bloodshot and furious. At that exact moment, Riven's phone began to ring.

"Ah just the call I needed," Riven murmured, answering and deliberately putting the line on loudspeaker.

"Sir, the job is done. What shall we do with the girl?" the voice on the other end reported, flat and businesslike.

"Good. Ace will send your payment. One more thing, send me a picture of the girl," Riven instructed. Within a minute, a photo pinged through.

Riven ended the call.

"Isn't this your daughter you were sitting with earlier?" Riven asked, holding up the image: Bella, trapped in a dark room, her mouth gagged and her hands bound with ropes.

"You little" Mr. White lunged, rage making him reckless as he swung for Riven, but Riven only laughed a sharp, humorless sound, then spat a fleck of blood to the side. His smile vanished, replaced by a stare that chilled the blood.

"Make that stupid mistake, and I'll have your daughter killed this instant," Riven said, voice flat as winter ice.

For a long, loaded beat, the two enemies held each other's gaze fury, fear, and the weight of a thousand unsaid consequences hanging in the charged silence.