Se connecter
After all..after five years behind prison, only taught her that freedom was another kind of cage, just with prettier bars.
A sleek black sedan was parked beyond the prison gates, and the butler who stepped out wore the same immaculate uniform she remembered from her childhood, though his hair had gone completely silver in her absence.
His face was neutral as she approached her.
"Miss Ravyn," he said with a slight bow, his voice carrying none of the warmth she might have once hoped for. "I'm to escort you home."
Home. The word felt foreign on her tongue but Ravyn nodded silently, holding on tight to the small plastic bag containing her few possessions—a change of clothes, a photograph of her sons (a secret she will take to the grave before her family found out), and the worn paperback book that had kept her sane during the darkest months.
She slid into the backseat without a word, noting how the butler's eyes never quite met hers in the rearview mirror.
When the sedan pulled through the wrought-iron gates of the Hawkins estate, Ravyn's breath caught despite herself.
The butler led her through the servants' entrance, which was a small humiliation that was not lost on either of them. Ravyn knew that her biological parents had ordered the butler to treat her nothing more as a servant after all. The butler led her through the corridors that were filled with generations of family portraits dating back 100 years.
When they finally got to the dining room, where Ravyn could hear the sounds of conversation going on, the clanking of cutleries against dishes, she could see her whole family seated around the mahogany table like the picture of a perfect family with no cracks or dark skeletons in the cupboard. They looked up as she entered, and for a moment, time seemed suspended.
Garret Hawkins sat at the head of the table, wearing a suit that probably caused more than what people made in a year. Her biological father—the man whose blood ran through her veins but who had never claimed her as anything more than an obligation.
Beside him, Eleanor Hawkins—her mother in DNA only—maintained her composure gracefully, looking at her with nothing but contempt and scorn.
Nathan Hawkins, her eldest brother, sat in his chair, with the air of a man who had never doubted his place in the world.
Jeremy Hawkins, the middle son and golden boy of the family, sat straighter in his chair. At twenty-eight, he had always been the most eager to please their parents, the one who followed every rule and exceeded every expectation. On his face, were the traces of guilt, which he managed to mask under the distaste that he had for her.
And there, in the place of honor at their mother's right hand, sat Aspen Hawkins. The girl who had stolen her life and was favoured on by everyone in the family.
"Ravyn." Her father's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You look... different."
"Mr. Hawkins," she replied, her face betraying nothing of the real emotions she felt inside.
A flicker of something—surprise? disappointment?—crossed her father's face at the formal address that she had given him. Eleanor tight Eleanor's lips tightened almost imperceptibly, the only sign that the distance in Ravyn's greeting had found its mark.
"Please," Eleanor said, gesturing to an empty chair that was located at the far end of the table, as far from the family as possible while still technically including her.
"Sit. Maria will bring you something to eat."
Ravyn took her assigned place without complaint, noting how the chair had been set with the second-best china, even on her first day of return, they could not help acting cruel towards her.
The conversation resumed around her as if she were a piece of furniture. Nathan and Jeremy discussed while Eleanor and Aspen talked about upcoming charity galas, and shopping trips.
Meanwhile Ravyn ate the simple meal Maria placed before her, which also was a far cry from the elaborate spread the rest of the family enjoyed and listened in on their conversation, keeping up to date with things that she did not know of.
The old Ravyn would have tried to join the conversation, desperate for any scrap of affection, losing her dignity in the process, but not this time.
"The basement room has been prepared for you," Eleanor announced during a lull in conversation, not bothering to look in Ravyn's direction. "Maria will show you where everything is."
"Thank you, Mrs. Hawkins," she said, and this time Eleanor's hand paused halfway to her wine glass.
The formal address hung in the air between them and Ravyn smirked softly to herself, knowing that if Eleanor spoke up about the title, then it meant her actions to treat them as strangers were hurting them.
After dinner, Ravyn followed Maria down the hallway of corridors to a door she'd never noticed as a child.
The basement room was small but clean, and it was furnished with basic necessities—a single bed, a narrow dresser, a small desk beneath a window that looked out at ground level. It smelled faintly of cleaning products and disuse.
"I'm sorry it's not much, Miss," Maria whispered, her weathered hands smoothing the simple bedspread with nervous energy, not daring to meet my eyes.
"I tried to make it comfortable."
"It's perfect," Ravyn replied, and meant it. After a prison cell, this felt like luxury to her, no roommates, no torture lined up, no more being raped without her permission.
"Thank you for your kindness."
Maria's eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed Ravyn's hand briefly before hurrying away.
She had barely finished unpacking her meager belongings when she heard approaching footsteps and she turned around to see that it was Jeremy who had showed up on her doorway, looking agitated. His hair was disheveled, his tie loosened, and his face flushed with what looked like wine and frustration.
"There's a party tomorrow night at Grandfather's house," he started speaking, leaning against the doorframe as if he owned not just the house but her very existence.
"The family story is that you've been abroad all these years—studying in Europe, traveling, finding yourself. Whatever bullshit sounds believable. You will not, under any circumstances, let them think anything else. Do you understand me?"
Ravyn made a small sound of acknowledgment, it wasn't agreement, or submission. It was more like to indicate that she'd heard him.
The noncommittal response snapped whatever restraint Jeremy had been maintaining.
His face darkened, and before Ravyn could react, he slapped her as she cut her lip, tasting blood in her mouth
"When I speak to you, you answer properly," he snarled, his voice rough with an emotion that she could not identify.
"I'm not some prison guard you can ignore. I'm your brother, and you will show me the respect I deserve."
Ravyn slowly turned her head back to face him, her hand rising to touch the burning spot on her cheek. She did not look at him, as she spoke.
"I apologize, Master Jeremy. It won't happen again."
"I... you..." He struggled for words, clearly unprepared for her complete emotional withdrawal. "Damn it, Ravyn. Why are you acting like this? Like you don't even know me?"
Because I don't, she thought but didn't say. The Jeremy she'd once known, had died the day he helped frame her for murder. This man wearing his face was a stranger who happened to share her blood.
"I understand my place, Master Jeremy," she said instead. "I won't cause any trouble."
Before Jeremy could respond. Aspen appeared at the bottom of the staircase, looking innocent to whoever was gullible enough to see her as an angel.
"Jeremy, what's going on down here?"
"I heard raised voices and thought... oh!" She gasped theatrically as she noticed the red mark on Ravyn's cheek. "What happened? Are you hurt?"She rushed forward with practiced grace, reaching out as if to examine the injury. Ravyn stepped back smoothly, avoiding the touch without making it seem deliberate.
"I'm fine," Ravyn said simply.
"Oh, Ravyn, I've missed you so much," Aspen said, her voice trembling with false emotion. "These years without you have been so hard. I kept hoping you'd write, or call, or... something. I know things were difficult before you left, but I always considered you my sister, no matter what anyone else said.""That's very kind of you to say, Miss Aspen," Ravyn replied, her tone neutral and polite.
The formal address had the desired effect. Aspen's mask slipped for just a moment, revealing a flash of fury that she quickly covered with a look of hurt confusion.
"Miss Aspen?" she repeated, her voice breaking slightly. "Ravyn, why are you being so cold? We're family."
"Perhaps," Aspen continued, stepping closer despite Ravyn's obvious desire for distance, "we could talk privately? Sister to sister? I feel like there's so much we need to catch up on."
"I don't think that's necessary," Ravyn said calmly. "I'm quite tired from the journey."
"Of course," she said softly, masking her anger underneath her act of feeling dejected."You must be exhausted. We can talk tomorrow, before the party. I have so many things I want to share with you. I just... I hope you can forgive me for whatever you think I've done wrong. I never wanted us to be strangers."
With that, she turned and walked away while Jeremy lingered for a moment longer, his expression conflicted.
"The party is at seven," he said finally. "Don't make us look bad."
Then he too was gone, leaving Ravyn alone in her basement sanctuary.
Chapter 87"Not even a little bit," Rhys confirmed. "In fact, part of our negotiation will be explicitly excluding him from any financial mechanisms. Adrian knows Marcus's reputation is questionable—everyone in international finance knows that. He's tolerated as a useful connection, but nobody with real money trusts him with anything important. We'll be structuring this partnership to specifically route around Marcus's involvement."The relief was so intense it made Ravyn dizzy. If Marcus wasn't actually part of the partnership, if Rhys had no intention of working with him beyond this introduction, then exposing him wouldn't implicate Larsen Enterprises. The FBI investigation would find that Rhys had met with Marcus once, declined to partner with him, and moved on to work exclusively with Adrian.Clean. Defensible. Completely legitimate."Why did you let him present the financial structures then?" Ravyn asked, still processing. "If you're not planning to use him?""Professional courte
Chapter 86Marcus added commentary about the financial mechanisms that would enable the partnership—currency exchanges, investment vehicles, tax optimization strategies that would benefit both parties. He spoke with the confidence of someone who'd structured hundreds of similar deals, who understood international finance at levels that most people never accessed.And through it all, Ravyn participated professionally. Asked questions about risk assessment. Raised concerns about market volatility. Suggested alternative structures that might provide better protection for Larsen Enterprises' interests. Performed her job exactly as Rhys had hired her to do.But her mind was spinning with impossible calculations. If she exposed Marcus Chen in the next seventy-two hours, if she extracted his records and delivered them to the FBI as the blackmailer demanded, it would trigger an investigation. That investigation would examine all of Marcus's recent business dealings. Which would include this m
Chapter 85The tension in Larsen Enterprises was palpable the moment Ravyn stepped through the glass doors. Employees moved through the hallways with the kind of purposeful urgency that suggested something important was happening, something that required everyone to be at their best, something that couldn't afford mistakes or delays.Ravyn noted the atmosphere with the observation skills prison had honed to razor sharpness. Tight expressions. Hushed conversations. People carrying tablets and folders with the careful precision of individuals handling valuable or sensitive materials. Whatever was going on today wasn't routine business—it was significant enough to put the entire organization on edge.She made her way to her office, nodding to colleagues she'd begun to recognize over her brief time here. A few returned the greeting with distracted smiles. Others barely acknowledged her, too focused on whatever crisis or opportunity was demanding their attention.Her office was exactly as
Chapter 84She didn't see the black sedan parked across the street, windows tinted dark enough to hide the occupants. Didn't notice the figure in the backseat, phone in hand, jaw clenched with fury as he watched her drive away.But Miles saw her. Had been watching for the past hour, had witnessed her arrival, had seen through the car's camera system as she and Dante performed their goodbye at the door. Had watched his brother—his fucking brother—kiss and mark and claim the woman who was supposed to have been Miles's, who should have still been pining for him, who had no business looking that satisfied and thoroughly used."Keep following her," Miles instructed his driver through clenched teeth. "I want to know everywhere she goes, everyone she talks to, everything she does. And get me those photos from this morning. All of them."The driver—a professional investigator Miles had hired specifically for surveillance work—nodded and began transferring the images from his camera to Miles's
Chapter 83Dante walked her to the door, his expression understanding. "He'll be fine," he said quietly. "We'll play games and watch movies and I'll make sure he eats properly and takes his medicine and doesn't touch anything dangerous. And you'll be back in"—he checked his watch—"probably eight hours. Less if you can get away early.""I know," Ravyn said, but her chest was tight with the familiar anxiety of separation. "I just worry.""I know you do," Dante said. "But hey—look at me. I'm not entirely useless. Just because I like being fucked by men doesn't mean I can't protect a child. I'm still an Archer. We might be terrible people in general, but we know how to defend what's ours. And Rhysand is ours. I'd die before I let anything happen to him."The casual vulgarity mixed with fierce protectiveness was so quintessentially Dante that Ravyn found herself smiling despite her worry. "I know you would. And I trust you. It's just—""Just hard to leave him," Dante finished. "I get it. B
Chapter 82"Breathe," Ravyn laughed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "We can do all of those things. But maybe we start with checking that you're feeling okay? No tummy aches or itchy spots or anything that feels weird?"This was their routine—the health check that Ravyn insisted on every time she saw him, the systematic assessment of his well-being that helped calm her constant anxiety about his severe allergies and the dozens of ways his small body could betray him without warning.Rhysand tolerated the questions with patient understanding, nodding seriously as he reported that yes, he felt good, no, nothing hurt, yes, he'd been careful about what he ate, no, he hadn't touched anything Papa Dante said was dangerous."He's been perfect," Dante confirmed from the doorway, where he'd been watching their reunion with a soft expression. "Elena's been excellent about the allergy protocols. And I've triple-checked everything that comes into this apartment. He's safe, Ravyn. I promise.""I







