Carlos:Hey. Saw the news about Ravencroft. Looks like things are finally settling down. Thought you might want to see this. No pressure. Whenever you're ready.
Below it, a video thumbnail Carlos in his apartment, soft lighting, ring box open in his hand.
Sara leaned over Rowan's shoulder without asking, eyes going wide. "Oh my god is that ?"
Emma crowded in on the other side. "Play it. Play it right now."
Rowan hesitated for half a second thumb hovering then tapped play.
Carlos's voice filled the small lounge, quiet and steady:
"I've been thinking about this for a while… I love you, Rowan. I want to build something real with you… I want you to marry me…"
The video ended with him closing the box gently, looking straight at the camera straight at her with that same earnest hope from dinner.
Sara let out a squeal, clapping her hands once. "Wow! Finally! Congrats, Ro!"
Emma was beaming, eyes shining.
"See? I told you. He's busy with his foundation and boardrooms now. No more drama. Carlos is stepping up. This is it this is your clean start. Ring video? That's next-level serious."
Sara grabbed Rowan's arm, shaking it lightly.
"He's perfect for you. Stable, sweet, no tabloid baggage. And look he's not even mad about the weird date. He's just… going for it. You deserve this, babe. Say yes. Say yes right now."
Rowan stared at the frozen thumbnail Carlos's face frozen mid-smile, ring glinting.
Her friends kept talking excited, overlapping, already planning how she should reply, what dress she'd wear to the wedding, how cute their kids would be.
Rowan nodded when they looked at her small, automatic. "Yeah," she said softly. "It's… good news."
But her voice was flat. Her fingers stayed curled around the phone like it might burn her. Sara and Emma were too happy to notice the quiet fracture underneath.
They didn't see the way her eyes lingered on the message timestamp.
They didn't see the flicker of something darker something that looked suspiciously like relief mixed with dread when she thought about those headlines.
They didn't know that "finally over her obsession" felt less like freedom and more like losing.
Rowan locked the phone.
She set it face-down.
And she let her friends celebrate for her.
Because saying the words out loud admitting she might actually say yes to Carlos felt like closing a door she wasn't sure she wanted shut.
Not yet.
Not when the silence from the other side still echoed so loudly in her chest.
~~^-^~~
The Ravencroft family dinner that night was quieter than usual no raised voices, no slammed doors, just the soft clink of silverware and the low hum of the chandelier overhead.
Nyx sat in his usual place, posture straight, eating slowly, deliberately.
He had changed into a simple black cashmere sweater and trousers after the foundation announcement nothing flashy, just composed.
Everett waited until the main course plates were cleared before he spoke. He set his fork down with careful precision, eyes fixed on Nyx.
"You did good today," he said, voice gruff but even.
"The launch. The speech. Clean. Professional. No theatrics. Looks like you're finally getting over your obsessions."
The word hung in the air obsessions deliberate, pointed. He didn't say Rowan's name. He didn't have to.
Nyx met his gaze without flinching. "Thank you, Grandfather. I'm trying to focus on what matters."
Everett gave a single nod small, grudging approval then reached for his wine glass.
Bianca, seated across from Nyx, set her napkin down with a soft rustle. Her smile was thin, polite, but her eyes glittered with something sharper.
"That's wonderful to hear, darling," she said sweetly. "Addiction never really ends, does it? It just… changes shape. One day it's pills, the next it's a person. But I'm so glad you're managing."
The table went still.
Ryan's fork paused mid-air. Mia's eyes flicked up from her phone, wide with interest.
Nyx's expression didn't change, but his fingers tightened once around the stem of his water glass.
Before he could respond, Marcus spoke low, calm, final.
"Enough, Bianca."
His voice wasn't raised. It didn't need to be. He looked at his wife directly, eyes steady.
"He launched a multimillion-dollar foundation today. Tied it to the company's pipeline. Got positive coverage across three major outlets. That's not 'changing shape.' That's results. If you have nothing constructive to add, keep it to yourself."
Bianca's smile froze. She opened her mouth then closed it. A faint flush crept up her neck.
She reached for her wine instead, taking a slow sip.
Everett grunted neither agreement nor disagreement but he didn't contradict Marcus. He simply looked at Nyx again.
"Keep it up," he said. "No slip-ups. No distractions. Prove it's not just one good day."
Nyx nodded once. "I will."
Then after a pause.
Nyx set his own fork down.
"I'm thinking of dating someone," he said calmly, voice even. "Someone stable. Respectable."
Bianca's head snapped up so fast her wine nearly sloshed. Her smile was thin, triumphant.
"See? I told you," she said sweetly, glancing at Everett.
"Addiction never really ends. It just changes shape. One day it's pills, the next it's a person. But look now it's 'stable dating.' How convenient."
Marcus's jaw tightened. He opened his mouth, but Everett raised a hand silencing the table.
"Not again," Everett said, voice low and hard. "Not another distraction. Not another headline waiting to happen."
Nyx didn't flinch.
"It's a stable girl," he said quietly. "No drama. No scandals. She's in shipping logistics old money, clean record, runs her family business quietly. No tabloids. No chaos. I think it could be good for me. For the image. For the family."
Everett studied him for a long moment long enough that the silence pressed in.
"You sure?" he finally asked. "She's good, but I hope she's part of your life not part of your plan."
Nyx held his gaze. "I'm sure."
He nodded once... small, controlled.
Everett grunted... neither full approval nor outright rejection.
"We'll see," he said. "No mistakes. No games. If this is real, fine. If it's another performance…" He let the threat hang. "I'll know."
Bianca's smile stayed frozen lips curved but eyes cold. She took a slow sip of wine.
Marcus watched Nyx quietly, expression unreadable.
Ryan stared at his plate, knuckles white around his fork.
Nyx picked up his water glass, took a measured sip.
The rest of the meal passed in strained civility.
When dessert was cleared, he excused himself first polite, composed. He walked the long hallway to his room without looking back. Once inside, door closed, he exhaled slow, controlled.
Everett had noticed. Marcus had defended him. Bianca's taunt had been shut down.
Small victories.
But the word "obsessions" still echoed in his head.
He opened his phone.
Raxa's confirmation text from earlier still sat there:
Raxa:Thursday works perfectly. Looking forward to it. 8 p.m. at Le Bernardin. See you then.
He didn't reply yet.
He just stared at it.
Thursday's dinner with Raxa Voss would be the next step public, visible, perfectly staged.
And when the photos hit, when the headlines shifted again, Everett would have no choice but to believe he was "over it."
And Rowan…
Rowan would see.
He'd see exactly what he'd thrown away.
Very soon.
~~^-^~~
Back in Ryan's room, the door clicked shut behind them with a soft finality.
The space was dim curtains half-drawn, only the desk lamp on, casting long shadows across the dark wood paneling and the scattered files on his bed.
Mia flopped onto the leather armchair, legs crossed, still in her dinner dress but shoes kicked off. Bianca stood near the window, arms folded, staring out at the estate lights like she could burn holes through the glass.
Mia broke the silence first, voice low and edged with satisfaction.
"Finally," she said, smirking.
"You got one thing, you can fuck that doc now no Nyx interruption. I mean… he's busy playing house with some boring shipping heiress. Perfect timing for you to slide in."
Ryan leaned against the desk, arms crossed, jaw still tight from dinner. He didn't smile.
"Yeah," he muttered. "No Nyx in the way. For once."
Mia tilted her head, grin widening.
"But the property?" she continued, tone turning mocking.
"That's still his. Clearly. He's got Marcus half-convinced, Everett almost impressed. One more good-boy performance and they'll hand him the keys to the kingdom on a silver platter. You'll get the leftovers if you're lucky."
Bianca turned from the window, face hard.
"It can't be," she said quietly. "We have to ruin this."
She walked to the center of the room, heels clicking once on the hardwood.
"Ryan," she said, voice low and deliberate.
"Find out whether he's serious about this girl or not. Is it real? Is he actually letting someone in or is it another performance? Another step in his plan to look 'stable' so Everett loosens the leash and gives him more rope?"
Ryan met her eyes. The anger from dinner still simmered there mixed now with something colder, more calculating.
He nodded once.
"I'll find out," he said.
"I know people who know people in shipping circles. I'll dig. If it's fake, I'll prove it. If it's real…" His lips curved just a fraction. "Then maybe I can use that too. Turn the 'perfect boyfriend' against him. Or make sure Rowan sees exactly how easily Nyx moves on."
Mia laughed softly.
"Either way, big brother you get the doctor. And maybe a piece of the pie if we play it right."
Bianca's gaze stayed on Ryan assessing, expectant.
"Do it quietly," she said. "No mistakes. No traces back to us. We wait for the crack. Then we push."
Ryan pushed off the desk. "Consider it done."
He walked to the door, paused with his hand on the knob. "And when I get proof he's faking it?" he asked, voice low.
"We leak it. Quietly. To the right people. To Grandfather. To the board. To Rowan."
Bianca's smile was small, satisfied. "Exactly."
The door opened and closed behind him.
Mia leaned back in the chair, smirking. "Game on."
Bianca didn't answer.
She just stared at the closed door, eyes narrowed.
Outside, the estate lay dark and quiet.
Inside, the three of them waited for the first slip, the first mistake, the first thread they could pull to unravel Nyx's carefully woven mask.
They had no idea how thin that mask really was.
Or how tightly Nyx was holding the strings on the other side.