MasukIvyI slept better that night than I had in weeks.When I woke up, the sun was streaming through the curtains and Mrs Chen was already in my room, opening the windows, letting the fresh air in."Good morning, child," she said. "Did you sleep well?""Yes," I said. "I slept very well."Mrs Chen smiled. It was a warm smile. A mother's smile."I made you breakfast. Eggs and toast and fresh fruit.""Thank you, Mrs Chen."She left. I got dressed and walked to the dining room. The table was set for one. Dorian's chair was empty.I ate my breakfast alone. The eggs were good. The toast was warm. But I could not stop thinking about the way Dorian had looked at me last night. The way he had said my name. The way he had held me.Something had changed between us. I did not know what. I did not know if it was good or bad. But something had shifted.At 10 AM, I walked to the training room. Sofia was there, stretching on the mat."You look different," she said."Different how?""I do not know. Softer
DorianThree weeks passed. Three weeks of meetings and shipments and contracts. Three weeks of telling myself I had made the right choice. Three weeks of not looking at her.I became good at it. The not looking. The not thinking. The not caring. I buried myself so deep in work that Marcus started making jokes about me becoming an accountant."The Irish are getting impatient," Marcus said, dropping a folder on my desk. "They want to meet her.""Not yet.""She has been here almost two months. People are talking.""Let them talk."Marcus did not move. He stood there with his arms crossed, staring at me like I was a puzzle he could not solve."You have not asked about her in ten days.""I have not needed to.""Mrs Chen says she is doing well. Eating. Sleeping. Training with Sofia." He paused. "She does not ask about you either."Something twisted in my chest. I ignored it."Good. That is how it should be."Marcus shook his head. "You are a fool, Dorian.""I am alive.""Are you?" He walked
IvyI stopped trying.I stopped trying to figure out who was killing the brides. I stopped trying to earn Dorian's trust. I stopped trying to be anything other than what I had always been.Invisible.The first day, I sat on my bed and stared at the wall. Mrs Chen brought food. I did not eat it. Mrs Chen brought tea. I did not drink it. Mrs Chen sat beside me and held my hand and told me everything would be okay.I did not believe her.The second day, I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. Mrs Chen brought soup. I ate a few spoonfuls. Mrs Chen brought tea. I let it go cold. Mrs Chen brushed my hair and told me stories about Dorian when he was a boy.I listened. I did not speak.The third day, I cried.Not silent tears. Not quiet sobs. Ugly crying. The kind that made my whole body shake and my throat hurt and my eyes swell shut.Mrs Chen was there. She held me. She rocked me. She whispered soft words in my ear."It is okay, child. Let it out. I am here. I am not going anywhere."I crie
DorianI went back to business.That was what I told myself. That was what I told Marcus. That was what I told everyone who looked at me with questions in their eyes.The shipments. The contracts. The deals. The endless dance of men who wanted what I had and would do anything to take it. I buried myself in it. Let the numbers and the names and the deadlines fill my head so I would not have to think about her.It did not work.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face. The way her tears had rolled down her cheeks. The way her voice had cracked when she said my name. The way she had stood in my doorway, small and broken and begging me to listen.I had told her to leave.I had told her I did not want her.I had watched her walk away and done nothing to stop her.Marcus walked into my office at noon. He had a tablet in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other."The Irish are asking about the alliance," he said. "They want to know when you are introducing the bride.""Soon.""You have b
IvyMrs Chen did not move from the bed.She just sat there with her hands folded in her lap and her silver hair pinned up neatly and her eyes that were not kind or gentle or anything I had seen before."Close the door, child," she said.I did not want to close the door. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. I wanted to find Dorian and tell him that the woman he trusted was sitting on my bed like she owned the room.But my feet would not move. My hands would not move. My mouth would not open.Mrs Chen sighed. It was a soft sound. Almost sad."I said close the door."I reached behind me and pushed the door closed. The click echoed through the room."Good." Mrs Chen patted the bed beside her. "Sit."I did not sit.Mrs Chen's eyes hardened. Just a little. Just enough."I have been nothing but kind to you since you arrived," she said. Her voice was calm. Hurt. Like a mother scolding a child who had been misbehaving. "I have made you meals. I have cleaned your room. I have brought you tea ev
DorianI could not stop thinking about it.The files. The photographs. The way Ivy had looked at me when she pointed out the pattern. The way her voice had been so sure, so certain, so convinced that Mrs Chen was a killer.I poured myself another drink and stared at the wall.The whiskey burned going down. It was the only thing I had felt in hours. The only thing that reminded me I was still alive.Marcus found me at two in the morning. He did not knock. Just walked in and sat down across from me."You look terrible," he said."I feel terrible.""Because of the girl?""Because of everything."Marcus leaned back in his chair. He did not say anything. He was good at that. Waiting. Letting me fill the silence with my own words.I did."She thinks Mrs Chen killed them. All twelve. She found a pattern in the files. The day they died. The day Mrs Chen had off. She thinks it is evidence."Marcus raised an eyebrow. "And what do you think?""I do not know what to think.""You know Mrs Chen. Yo
IvyI stared at Dorian, waiting for him to say something. The file was still open in my hands. The witness statement was right there. The schedule was right there. Mrs Chen had Thursdays off. The brides died on Thursdays. When she switched her day off, the bride died on a different day. It was not
DorianI should have been angry.When I found the locked room open, when I saw the light spilling out into the dark hallway, when I walked inside and found Ivy sitting on the floor surrounded by twelve files and twelve lives and twelve deaths, I should have yelled. I should have grabbed her. I shou
IvyI could not sleep.The bed was too soft. The blankets were too warm. The room was too quiet. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Mrs Chen's face. The way she had looked at me through the crack in the kitchen door. The way her eyes had gleamed in the darkness. The way she had smiled when she thou
IvySofia Reyes arrived at noon.I knew because I heard her before I saw her. Boots on marble. The kind of footsteps that belonged to someone who had never been told to walk quietly.She appeared in my doorway without knocking, without announcing herself, without any of the polite social rituals I







