Ivy sat stiffly in the backseat of Liam’s car, her fingers knotted in her lap. The bustling city lights flashed against the tinted windows, but she barely noticed them.Her heart was still heavy from the night before, Cassien's sharp words, the humiliation, and the drunken haze that had almost stolen her strength. She could still feel the heat of his gaze and the sting of being misunderstood.

When Liam slid into the car beside her, the silence thickened. For a moment, he didn’t speak. His jaw was tight, his knuckles pale where he gripped his cane. Then he exhaled through his nose, sharp and cold, and turned on her.

“You failed again.” His voice was flat, but underneath it, Ivy heard the razor’s edge.

Her lips parted, but no sound came.

“Two brothers, Ivy. Two.” His hand shot out, gripping her chin and forcing her to look at him. His eyes burned with disappointment. “Do you have any idea what you’ve lost me?”

“I”she swallowed, her voice trembling. “I tried. Damien, he"

“You tried?” His laugh was bitter and hollow. “Your mother never had to try. Rosa was a goddess. Men begged for her attention.

They crumbled beneath her smile. And yet you, her daughter, can't even handle a wounded man or distract a drunken fool!”

The name cut deeper than any blade. Rosa. Her mother. Ivy’s eyes stung, but she clenched her teeth, refusing to cry in front of him.

“You never gave me a signal as to when Damien would be attacked,” she whispered, voice small but steady. “You threw me into that without warning. He was bleeding, and you expected me to.”

“Exactly.” Liam snapped his fingers, the sound sharp in the confined space. “Damien was my target. If you were startled, if your heart raced, then so would his. He studies people, Ivy. If you had played your part, you could have been inside his mind already.”

Her stomach twisted. “You wanted me to see him like that; you poisoned him. What if?” she muttered.

“I trained you well in that area, didn't I?" He argued. “Of course,” Liam spat after thinking deeply. “A man reveals himself when he’s close to death. You could have been the face burned into his memory. But you flinched. You failed.”

Ivy turned her face away, pressing her lips together.

“And Cassien,” Liam went on, his words sharper with each syllable. “Do you know why you were humiliated? Because you weren’t paying attention. I arranged everything. I paid those fools to drug his drink. All you had to do was let him collapse into your arms, let him believe you saved him.” His cane tapped against the floor of the car. “But instead, you drank the poison yourself. Foolish girl.”

Her breath caught, realization sinking like a stone in her chest. He had arranged it all. Every detail. Every humiliation.

“I wanted to help,” she whispered. “I thought he”

“You thought wrong,” Liam cut her off, his tone final. He leaned back, folding his arms. “If you keep failing me, you’re no better than your useless mother. Beauty without cunning is nothing but a curse.”

The words hit harder than a slap. Ivy felt them echo inside her, but she forced herself into silence. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.

“Better pray you succeed with the last one,” Liam said after a moment, his tone almost casual now. “Darius. If you fail him too…” He didn’t finish the threat. He didn’t have to.

The rest of the ride passed in silence.

That night, at home, Liam laid out the final plan. Ivy sat across from him, her hands folded neatly, her expression blank.

“Darius owns a bar,” Liam began, pouring himself a glass of brandy. “He spends his nights there, listening to girls sing. He’s not like his brothers; he isn’t as cold as Damien nor as suspicious as Cassien. But he is careful. He despises lies, yet he craves mystery.”

He looked at her, his eyes narrowing. “You will play hard to get. Not desperate, not foolish. You will intrigue him. Make him chase you. He needs to want what he thinks he cannot have.”

Ivy frowned slightly. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

“You’ll be working there. Part time. I’ve already arranged it. You will be a dancer.”

Her eyes widened. “A dancer?”

“Yes. Masked.” He smirked, sipping his drink. “You’ll be the faceless beauty he cannot stop watching. A shadow he cannot touch. Let him chase your reflection until he is desperate for your truth.”

She hesitated. “But what if he wants to see my face?”

“Then you give him a taste.” Liam leaned forward, his voice low. “Just enough to haunt him. Nothing more.”

She nodded slowly, though her chest felt tight.

“And to make this easier,” Liam added, “I’ve already spread rumors. Ugly ones. Quite literally. The town already believes the new dancer is hideous. When he asks to see your face, his friends will laugh. They’ll mock. And when you finally reveal yourself, at the right time, it will break them all.”

Ivy’s stomach churned, but she said nothing.

The following night, the bar pulsed with music and laughter. Smoke mixes through the air, mingling with perfume and liquor. On the small stage, Ivy stood masked, her dress clinging to her curves like a second skin.

The music began, soft and sultry, and she moved with it, hesitant at first, then flowing, her body swaying like water. She let the rhythm carry her and let the mask give her courage.

For a moment, she felt possessed, the girl burdened by her uncle’s schemes, but she felt something else, her mother's betrayal, Liam's words echoing in her head. This fueled her dancing, drawing everyone who never intended to watch her; they finally looked her way.

Darius watched from the corner of the room, his eyes fixed on her. His friends laughed, whispering, mocking the masked girl who dared to perform.

“Ugly,” one of them snickered. “That’s why she hides her face.”

Darius said nothing. He leaned forward, his gaze sharpening with every movement she made.

Her move drew him in; he felt she was telling a story, her step so captivating. He had not seen someone move with so much grace and emotion. When the music ended, he rose from his seat, clapping, a rare act from Darius.

“Take off the mask,” he ordered, his voice calm but commanding.

The room fell silent.

Ivy froze, her heart pounding. She could feel dozens of eyes on her, waiting.

His friend smirked. “Don’t bother, Darius. She’ll scare you.” Laughter rippled through the room.

Slowly, Ivy reached up, fingers brushing the mask. For a heartbeat, she considered it. Then, with deliberate slowness, she lowered her hand.

“No.” Her voice was soft, almost meek.

Gasps spread through the crowd. No one had ever defied Darius like that.He stared at her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then, without another word, he sat back down, not saying a word.

Is mind made up to trail her?

Later that night, Ivy slipped into the hallway behind the bar. Her hands trembled as she pulled off the mask, wiping the sweat from her face. She splashed cold water on her cheeks, her reflection blurred in the cracked mirror.

Her ugly looks are fading, revealing her effortless beauty and amazing Darius, who secretly stood behind her.She heard laughter behind her, a group of wealthy women mocking her performance. One, drunk and petty, shoved her shoulder.

“Ugly little thing,” the woman sneered. “Hiding behind a mask because you can’t bear to show your face, defying our precious Lord,”

Ivy inhaled slowly, then turned her head just enough to let the woman see her bare face in the mirror.

The woman’s laughter died instantly. Her eyes widened, her mouth falling open. Ivy slipped the mask back on and whispered something to her.

From the shadows, Darius watched. His pulse quickened, though he didn’t understand why. She moved with a grace he couldn’t ignore, a quiet strength that tugged at him.

The arrogant lady turned back, slapping Ivy so hard, causing Darius to clench his fist. He wanted Ivy to respond but was surprised she only bowed before leaving, tears in her eyes.

"Revoke their access," he ordered, pointing to the two arrogant ladies. But deep down, his eyes linger longer on Ivy.

“Find her,” he murmured to his men later that night. “Bring me her name,” he ordered. All through he had imagined kissing those soft lips, letting her soft delicate body shape into different sex positions, and hearing her soft moans, calling his name.

They returned hours later, shaking their heads. “There is no record of her, my lord. No woman like her exists in this town.”

Darius leaned back, his brows furrowing. No record. No name. Only a shadow.

And yet, when he closed his eyes, he could still see her. The way she moved. The defiance in her voice. The fleeting glimpse of beauty that had stolen his breath.

The next morning, Ivy sat across from Liam again. He was smiling this time, sipping his coffee.

“You did well,” he said. “Very well. Keep this up, and he’ll fall into your hands without realizing it. But there’s more.”

"I heard he is looking for you," Liam muttered with pride.

She looked up, wary.

“You’ll be resuming school next week,” Liam continued. “And there, your target won’t be Darius directly. It will be Evelyn.”

“Evelyn?” Ivy frowned.

“Yes.” Liam’s smile widened. “She’s the key. The only one close to all three brothers. Gain her trust, and you gain access to them all.”

Ivy’s heart tightened. Three brothers. Three men who didn’t even know she existed until fate had pushed her into their paths. Now, whether she liked it or not, they were all beginning to search for her.

And Liam was counting on it.

“I would warn you, she doesn't like anyone more pretty than her,"

"Three pieces of advice Ivy, Stay hidden, stay weak, and Survive long enough to Strike,” he warned.