Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The whispers that followed this declaration were even more intense than before. Ravyn could see the social calculation happening behind dozens of pairs of eyes—if the Hawkins family had just publicly claimed her as their daughter, but she was denying any connection, what did that mean? What scandal was being hinted at?

Rhys' lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile but suggested he was thoroughly enjoying the chaos unfolding before him. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of someone who had seen his fair share of family dysfunction and found this particular display lacking in originality.

"How unfortunate," he said, his tone making it clear he found it anything but. "It seems you've attempted to claim connection to someone who wants nothing to do with you. That must be... embarrassing."

He turned his attention fully to Nathan, and something in his expression made the older man take an involuntary step backward. "You know, I've built my reputation on one very simple principle: I don't tolerate liars. And I especially don't tolerate people who try to use family connections to manipulate situations to their advantage."

"Mr. Larsen, I assure you—" Garret began, but Rhys cut him off with a gesture.

"Let me tell you what I see," Rhys said, his voice never rising above conversational volume but somehow commanding absolute attention. "I see a family who treats this young woman like a servant, gives her the worst accommodations, makes her eat separately from the rest of you, and then has the audacity to call her your daughter when it's socially convenient. When you want to claim connection to control her behavior. When you want to use that claimed relationship to manage your reputation."

He took a step forward, and the Hawkins family collectively took a step back. "I see a woman who was apparently abroad for years—though none of you seem to have visited her or maintained contact—and who you've now brought back and installed in your basement like an embarrassing secret you want to keep hidden but can't quite discard."

Eleanor's face had gone from red to white. "How dare you—"

"I see," Rhys continued as if she hadn't spoken, "a family at a party celebrating an engagement, where your supposed daughter's former fiancé is now marrying her supposed sister. And instead of showing this daughter—if that's what she is—any compassion or support, you're attacking her for having a conversation with a guest at a party you forced her to attend."

He turned to Jeremy, whose earlier bravado had completely evaporated. "And you, young man, have the audacity to suggest she's causing you embarrassment? You, who clearly has no idea what real hardship looks like?"

Moving on to Miles, Rhys' expression turned absolutely glacial. "As for you, attempting to claim fiancée rights to a woman who is clearly not your fiancée—while your actual fiancée stands right there—that's pathetic even by the low standards I'm seeing displayed here tonight."

Miles opened his mouth, closed it, and then wisely chose to remain silent.

Finally, Rhys turned to Aspen, who had been watching the entire scene with barely concealed malice beneath her concerned facade. "And you, wearing that ring like a trophy while pretending concern for your 'sister.' Tell me, does it ever exhaust you, maintaining that innocent expression while your eyes give away everything you're really thinking?"

Aspen's mask slipped completely for just a moment, her face twisting with pure hatred before she caught herself and schooled her features back into hurt confusion. But everyone had seen it—that flash of genuine emotion that revealed far more than any words could have.

Rhys turned back to the wider audience, his voice carrying to every corner of the now completely silent room. "I came tonight as a courtesy to the senior Mr. and Mrs. Hawkins, who have always treated me with respect and dignity. But I find I have no interest in remaining at a gathering where I'm forced to witness a family treating one of their own—or someone they're claiming as their own—with such transparent cruelty."

He looked down at Ravyn, and his expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Would you care to join me in the garden? The air has grown rather stale in here."

Ravyn nodded, accepting the arm he offered with natural grace. As they turned to leave, she heard her family scrambling behind them.

"Mr. Larsen, please—"

"If we could just explain—"

"There's been a terrible misunderstanding—"

But Rhys didn't pause or look back, and neither did Ravyn. She could feel eyes boring into her back as they walked through the crowd, which parted for them like water around stone. Some faces showed shock, others showed speculation, and more than a few showed what looked like approval.

As they stepped through the French doors onto the garden terrace, Ravyn could hear the explosion of conversation that erupted behind them. The damage control her family would have to do tonight would be extensive, she knew. And she found she didn't care even a little bit.

The garden was beautifully maintained, with stone pathways winding between carefully manicured hedges and flower beds. Soft lighting illuminated the paths without being harsh, and the sound of a fountain somewhere in the distance provided a pleasant counterpoint to the party noise gradually fading behind them.

Rhys led her to a bench beneath a pergola covered in climbing roses. Only once they were seated and the party was out of sight did he release her arm and turn to face her fully.

"That," he said with genuine amusement, "was possibly the most entertaining dinner party I've attended in years."

Ravyn found herself laughing, real laughter that came from somewhere deep in her chest. "I can't believe I just did that. They're going to make my life absolutely miserable."

"They were already making your life miserable," Rhys pointed out. "At least now you've made it clear you're not going to be a passive participant in your own mistreatment."

She studied him in the soft light, this stranger who had somehow read the situation perfectly and chosen to support her rather than maintaining polite social fiction. "Why did you do that? You don't know me. For all you know, I could be exactly the troublemaker they're painting me as."

"Perhaps," Rhys acknowledged. "But I've spent enough time with liars and manipulators to recognize them when I see them. And what I saw in there was a family trying to control someone they see as a threat or an embarrassment." He paused, his gray eyes searching her face. "Besides, anyone who can maintain that level of composure while eating soup off the floor and then show up to a party like nothing happened is someone I'm interested in knowing better."

Ravyn felt cold wash over her. "How did you know about that?"

"I have excellent sources," he said simply. "I make it my business to know about people who interest me. And you, Ravyn Hawkins—or whoever you really are—are very interesting indeed."

"I'm nobody special," she said, echoing her earlier words.

"I don't believe that for a second," Rhys replied. "In fact, I think you're someone very special indeed. Someone who's been through something terrible and come out the other side stronger for it. Someone who knows how to survive when survival shouldn't be possible."

He leaned back against the bench, his posture relaxed despite the intensity of his gaze. "Which brings me to something I wanted to discuss with you. I'm looking for someone. Someone with a very particular set of skills."

Ravyn felt her pulse quicken but kept her expression neutral. "What kind of skills?"

"Computer skills. Hacking skills, specifically. I'm looking for someone who went by the alias Whisper_119." He watched her face carefully as he said the name, looking for any reaction.

Ravyn's mind raced. Whisper_119 had been her online identity during her time in prison, when she'd taught herself coding and hacking using smuggled technology and carefully hidden internet access. She'd been good—good enough that she'd built a reputation in certain underground circles before deliberately vanishing two years ago when things had gotten too dangerous.