Chapter 10

Riven sat back in the car, door slamming shut behind him. The leather creaked beneath him as he leaned his head against the headrest.

"Lucas," he said coldly, "find every detail about what Derek is planning. If he's making a move, I want to know now. Report to me first thing tomorrow morning. I'm leaving the city after I meet Father and Mother."

Lucas gave a curt nod. "Understood, boss."

Riven stepped on the gas.

The road stretched ahead — long, winding, empty. Trees blurred past on both sides, and silence settled in like fog. For once, no music. No noise. Just him and the hum of the engine.

Then, something caught his eye.

A small figure on the side of the road — curled up, barely moving.

He slowed, frowning.

It was her.

Iris.

What the hell was she still doing here?

He could've driven past. He should've driven past.

But instead, he lowered the window.

The girl looked up slowly, her face streaked with dried tears, her lips cracked, her feet dirty and bruised.

She flinched the moment she saw him.

Riven's cold voice cut through the air. "Why are you just sitting here?"

Iris, embarrassed and trembling, tried to cover her face. "I-I was tired... thought I'd rest a bit..."

Her voice was small. Weak. The shame in it made something unfamiliar twist inside Riven.

"You won't find anyone for at least thirty miles," he said flatly. "It'll be sunset soon. Winter nights are cruel. If you can walk, you'd better do it fast."

He watched her for a second more — the fear written all over her pale face — then rolled the window up and drove on.

But five minutes later, he was still glancing in the mirror.

She was walking now. Limping. Barefoot. Arms wrapped around herself like a shield. Her head was down, her lips parted like she was out of breath... or water.

He gritted his teeth.

I've done worse. Much worse.

So why the hell do her eyes keep bothering me?

"God damn it."

He reversed the car.

The gravel crunched as he pulled up beside her again. Iris stopped, startled. Her eyes widened in disbelief — or terror — when she saw him again.

"Hey," Riven called out. "Where are you even trying to go?"

She jumped back, stumbling over her own feet and falling hard on the dirt.

Riven stepped out.

His tall frame cast a long shadow over her trembling form. She scrambled to stand.

"I-I... I don't know," she stammered. "I don't know where my parents are. I just... started walking."

He raised a brow.

"And where do you think you'll end up? Your old house is being inspected by police. Your neighbors complained about strange men going in and out. That place isn't safe either."

Then it hit him.

Shit.

If the police found her, they'd question her. She'd talk. Maybe not now, but eventually.

And she'd seen things — the mansion, the people, maybe even the blood.

He couldn't risk it.

Before she could react, he grabbed her by the arm — hard — and hauled her toward the car. She cried out, wincing in pain as he shoved her into the passenger seat.

"Ugh—!"

"Sit. And keep your mouth shut," he snapped. "You've got nowhere else to go anyway."

Iris curled into the seat, shaking.

Her arms hugged her chest tightly, and her eyes stared forward, unblinking. She didn't even breathe too loudly, afraid even her breath might annoy him.

The ride was silent — tense.

Riven glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

She looked... pathetic. Like a terrified rabbit caught in a lion's den.

A small smile tugged at his lips — not kindness. Something darker.

She was scared of him.

And for some reason, that made him feel better.