Arden disappeared the next morning.
No dramatic exit. No announcement.
By the time Victor woke up, Arden's room was empty—bed neatly made, weapons gone, phone left behind like a discarded identity.
Victor exhaled slowly. "Damn it."
This was the version of Arden that scared him.
Not the reckless one.
The quiet one.
Julian noticed the silence before the reports reached him.
"No movement?" he asked, eyes fixed on the security feed.
"None," Ada replied. "Arden Blackwood has gone dark."
Julian smiled faintly. "Good. That means he's thinking."
He turned to Ife, who sat across the room pretending to read.
"Your message worked," Julian said. "You've given him space to grieve."
She didn't look up. "That's not what I wanted."
"But it's what you needed," Julian replied calmly. "Emotion clouds judgment."
She met his gaze. "And power doesn't?"
Julian tilted his head. "Power clarifies."
She swallowed hard.
Victor found Arden three days later in a place neither of them had visited in years.
The old coastal town where Arden's mother was buried.
Arden stood by the grave, hands in his pockets, face carved from stone.
"You always come here when you're deciding something irreversible," Victor said quietly.
Arden didn't turn. "I used to think my father was the danger."
Victor stiffened. "Julian?"
Arden shook his head. "No. My real one."
Victor hesitated. "You never asked."
"I never wanted to know," Arden replied.
He finally turned, eyes hollow but sharp. "Julian didn't make my father disappear. He finished what my father started."
Victor's breath caught. "You're sure?"
"I found the files," Arden said. "Before I left."
Victor frowned. "Files where?"
Arden's lips curved humorlessly. "In the place he thought I'd never look."
That night, Victor read everything.
Arden's father hadn't been a victim.
He'd been the architect.
Illegal deals. Human lives treated as currency. Betrayals so deep even Julian had tried to clean up the mess.
Julian hadn't protected Arden.
He'd contained him.
Victor closed the file slowly. "Julian didn't just raise you."
"He groomed me," Arden said. "To inherit a throne built on blood."
Victor looked up. "And Ife?"
Arden's jaw tightened. "She was the variable he couldn't control."
At the house, Julian grew impatient.
"She hasn't spoken to him," Ada reported.
Julian's fingers drummed against the desk. "She will."
Ada hesitated. "Or she won't."
Julian glanced up sharply. "Explain."
"She's stronger than you think," Ada said softly. "And she doesn't belong to you."
Julian stared at her for a long moment. "Careful."
Ada lowered her gaze. "Yes, sir."
Julian stood and walked toward Ife's room.
Ife felt him before she saw him.
"You're quiet," Julian said from the doorway.
She closed her book. "I said everything you asked me to say."
"And yet you're still here," he replied.
She met his gaze. "You didn't let me leave."
Julian smiled thinly. "I let you breathe."
Her voice shook. "You promised peace."
"I promised stability," he corrected. "And that requires obedience."
She stood. "I'm not your property."
Julian stepped closer, voice low. "Then stop acting like leverage."
Her heart pounded. "Let me go."
Julian studied her for a long moment.
"No," he said simply.
Something shifted in her then.
Fear hardened into resolve.
Arden returned to the city at dawn.
Not as a lover.
As a man who knew exactly what he was fighting.
Victor watched him assemble a small, precise team.
"You're not rescuing her yet," Victor realized.
Arden shook his head. "Not yet."
Victor frowned. "Why?"
"Because Julian expects emotion," Arden replied. "And I'm done being predictable."
Victor hesitated. "If you wait—"
"Ife is buying us time," Arden said quietly. "Whether she knows it or not."
Victor clenched his jaw. "And if she breaks?"
Arden met his gaze, pain flickering briefly. "Then I burn the world."
That night, Ife stood by the mirror and barely recognized herself.
The softness was gone.
Replaced by something sharper.
She remembered Julian's words.
Power clarifies.
Maybe.
But love had clarified something too.
She wasn't a shield.
She was a choice.
And she was done being silent.
She picked up her phone and typed a message she knew would be intercepted.
Ife:
I'm ready to talk about legacy.
Minutes later, Julian responded.
Julian:
Excellent.
She stared at the screen, heart steady for the first time in days.
Because she wasn't talking about his.
She was preparing to end it.