Chapter 13

Victor stormed through the front door of his penthouse, his anger already simmering just below the surface. The betrayal at the office still seethed in his mind, and he was looking forward to unleashing his fury on whoever was responsible.

But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.

His penthouse, once a sleek and modern oasis, was now in shambles. Furniture was overturned, glass shattered, and artwork torn from the walls. The air was thick with the scent of destruction.

Victor's eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the chaos. Who could have done this? And why?

He stormed through the rooms, his heart pounding in his chest, until he came to the guest room. And there, lying on the bed, surrounded by the wreckage of his home, was Ivy.

She was reading a book, a look of calm serenity on her face, as if she didn't have a care in the world.

Victor's anger boiled over. "You," he growled, his voice low and deadly. "You did this."

Ivy looked up, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Oh, Victor," she said, her voice dripping with sweetness. "I'm so glad you're home."

Victor's fists clenched at his sides. "You're going to pay for this," he spat. "You're going to regret ever crossing me."

Ivy shrugged, her smile growing wider. "I'm shaking in my boots," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Victor's eyes blazed with fury as he stalked towards Ivy, his movements swift and menacing. He grabbed her throat, his fingers wrapping around her neck like a vice, and pinned her to the bed.

Ivy struggled, her hands clawing at his arms, but Victor's grip was unyielding. He leaned in close, his face inches from hers, his breath hot with anger.

"You're going to pay for what you've done," he snarled, his voice low and deadly.

Ivy's eyes flashed with fear, but she refused to back down. She spat in his face, her saliva landing on his cheek. "You're going to pay for what you've done," he snarled, his voice low and deadly. Ivy's heart pounded in her chest as she waited for his next move.

Victor's anger erupted. He slammed her head into the pillow, his fingers tightening around her throat. Ivy's eyes bulged, her face turning red.

But then, he saw her tears. They streamed down her face, mixing with the fear and defiance in her eyes.

Something inside Victor snapped. He froze, his grip on her throat relaxing. He stared at her, his chest heaving with anger, but his eyes locked on hers.

Ivy's struggles weakened, her body trembling beneath him. Victor's gaze bore into hers,

her voice trembling. "I just couldn't take it anymore. Your constant control...I had to break free."

Victor's anger faltered, his grip on her throat relaxing slightly. He searched her eyes, looking for any sign of deception.

But all he saw was tears. They streamed down her face, mixing with the fear and defiance in her eyes.

Something inside Victor snapped. He froze, his grip on her throat releasing completely. He stared at her, his chest heaving with anger, but his eyes locked on hers.

"Why?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Ivy's body shuddered with sobs. "Because I couldn't take it anymore," she repeated. "I needed to break free from your grasp."

Victor's anger slowly receded, replaced by a cold, hard fury. He stood up, his eyes never leaving Ivy's face.

"This isn't over," he whispered, his voice cold and deadly.

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Ivy shattered and broken on the bed.

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Victor stormed into his study, the only room in the penthouse that had been left untouched by Ivy's rampage. The door clicked shut behind him, and he leaned against it, his eyes scanning the familiar space.

His study was his sanctuary, the one place where he could escape the chaos of his life. And it was also the one place that Ivy couldn't touch, thanks to the password-locked door.

Victor's gaze fell on the phone, and he strode over to it, his mind racing with anger and betrayal. He dialed a number, his fingers flying over the keypad.

"Alex," a voice answered on the first ring.

"Alex, it's Victor. I need you to take care of something for me."

"What is it, boss?"

"I want you to burn two of Smith's warehouses. I don't care which ones; just make sure they're gone."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "Consider it done, boss. But are you sure? That's a pretty big move."

Victor's eyes narrowed. "I'm positive. I want Ivy to know who she's messing with. I want her to know that I won't be trifled with."

"Got it, boss. I'll take care of it personally."

Victor nodded, even though Alex couldn't see him. "Good. And Alex?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Make sure it's public. I want everyone to know that Victor Blackwood is not a man to be crossed."

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. "Oh, I think they already know that, boss. But I'll make sure to send a message."

Victor hung up the phone, his eyes still blazing with anger. He knew that burning Smith's warehouses would be a declaration of war, but he was ready for it. He was ready to take on Ivy and Smith and anyone else who dared to cross him.

He walked over to the window, staring out at the city below. He could feel the anger and betrayal simmering inside him, waiting to boil over.

But for now, he just stood there, his eyes fixed on the horizon, his mind plotting his next move.

Victor stood at the window, gazing out at the city below, his mind consumed by thoughts of Ivy. He should hate her, he told himself. She had destroyed his property and challenged his authority. He should be happy to see her miserable and to know that she was suffering.

But as he thought of her tears and of the way she had looked at him with such fear and desperation in her eyes, he felt a pang of...something. It wasn't quite guilt, nor was it sympathy. It was more like a sense of unease, a feeling that he couldn't quite shake.

Why had her tears affected him so? He had seen countless people cry, beg, and plead with him over the years, but none of them had ever gotten to him like Ivy had. Was it because she was different from the others? Because she had dared to challenge him, to stand up to him when no one else would?

Or was it something more?

Victor's eyes narrowed as he thought about it. He didn't want to admit it, but a part of him had been drawn to Ivy from the moment he met her. She was fierce, passionate, and determined—qualities that he admired, even if he didn't want to.

And yet he had tried to break her, to crush her spirit, and to bend her to his will. Why? Because he was afraid of her? Afraid of what she might do to him?

Victor's jaw clenched as he thought about it. No, he wasn't afraid of Ivy. He was the one who always came out on top.

But as he stood there, lost in thought, he couldn't shake the feeling that Ivy had gotten under his skin in a way that no one else ever had. And he didn't know how to deal with it.

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