#evil silco

One night you were too drunk to notice that your windows and curtains were wide open as you rolled your hips on top of the nameless man that you'd procured from a nearby dive bar to satisfy your needs for the night.

You opened your eyes as you got close, relishing the rising anticipation of your hard earned, imminent orgasm. Bliss rises up your spine as you look out at the city lights panting and moaning shamelessly in a drunken haze.

Then you notice him, watching intently from his balcony through the large glass window of your modern apartment.

His eyes meet yours and you climax hard. Your orgasm ripping across your being with a quaking intensity you hadn't experienced for a long, long time.

--

After that, you dress and undress each morning and each evening, letting him see, going out of your way even to make sure he had a good view.

You start buying lingerie and sexy pyjamas to wear around the house.

If anyone ever asked you, you could never explain why you encouraged this. Other than admitting that you simply enjoyed the attention. There was something about being watched that seemed so harmless, a safe way to tease and taunt the man. His desire seemed to give you a strange confidence. You enjoyed ignoring him, pretending that you never even noticed he was there. That was part of the game for you.

He stood dutifully on his balcony for the show each morning, knowing your routine, chaining cigarettes, eyes like a wolf. Sometimes he missed the afternoon showing, you were always secretly disappointed.

--

You’re out of your usual routine one morning, running late. You walk out onto the street just as he is walking out of his apartment at the same time. You both freeze, like two mirrors across the road from each other. His considering gaze catches your own for a long moment before you panic, breaking the spell as you turn away down the street.

He doesn't follow.

--

In bed.

Your eyes snap open.

CCCCCRRUNCHHH

You're up.

You run towards the sound.

Splintering wood.

Your front door - It's being kicked in.

You scream but it's cut short as a massive man, unfamiliar, bursts inside, gun trained on you. Your heart beats a frantic rhythm as you look down the barrel of the weapon, frozen in terror, blubbering appeasingly.

Everything becomes a blur, suddenly, finding yourself giving any answers asked of you.

Briefly, over the muscular shoulder of the intruder you see your watcher across the way, holding a phone to his ear. Is he seeing all this? You hope he's calling the police. Who knew your sick games with this pervert would pay off. You would be more amazed if you weren't so absolutely afraid for your life.

The large invader riffles through your valuables. He drags you roughly by your upper arm like a rag doll from room to room, taking your laptop, jewellery and your purse.

He pushes you away demanding you stand against the back wall while he does a final sweep, roughly tearing cabinets open and swiping through your cupboards. You pray he will just leave but when he finishes his quick search instead of the door he wheels towards you. Eyes gleaming as if he just noticed that you are in fact worthy of his consideration.

Something in his eyes makes you step back into the picture frame behind you as he approaches.

He grabs a fistful of your hair, pinning you against the wall with his body. Running the tip of the cold metal gun slowly from your temple, down your neck, to rest just in between your cleavage.

"If I had more time I'd steal a lot more from you sweetness." The threat trailing his warm breath over your face.

With a gut wrenching start you realise you can feel his hard cock pressed against you through his pants.

He grabs your face with one hand, thick fingers holding your jaw as he forces your eyes up to his. "Too bad." He says as if you are missing out on a special treat. He pulls away from you smirking and backs out of the room, gun still trained on you.

"Next time" he says blowing a kiss before striding out the front door.

—

After the burglar leaves you wait, frozen in place for a short while, shaken and gently sobbing before running out into the street. You look left and right and who should be leaning against the bricks on the sidewalk out the front but your ever vigilant watcher.

You run across the road towards him and he looks shocked momentarily, taking a step back away from your rapid frantic approach before you shamelessly wrap your arms around him hugging him and crying. Needing support from someone, anyone.

Hadn't he always been there?

Slowly, unsurely he wraps his arms around you, reciprocating.

"Its okay" he says, his voice is pleasant. A low vibrating rumble against you.

"I called the Police, I'll wait with you."

He keeps one arm wrapped around you, rubbing patterns along your back soothingly as he receives a call with the other. It sounds like he's talking to police, here he was just handling this for you. Taking care of it as if it were his own problem.

When the police arrive you are still crying gently in his arms.

"Is this your... girlfriend Sir?"

"Yes." He says not skipping a beat. Okay that was strange, maybe he’s just trying to make it seem … not as strange as it actually is?

When he gives a statement he gives his name as Silco. You realise then, you are just now learning his name, he already seems to know yours which gives you pause, you had never spoken to him. But you weren't really in any position to worry about that having already thrown yourself at the man.

—

Police pour into your home, taking fingerprints and photographs. Its not long before one of the forensic team approaches you on the street and explains it might be a while before you could return home, definitely not till tomorrow morning at the earliest.

"Oh, thank you." You say, still quite shocked.

At this news you finally unwrap yourself from the stranger now known as Silco. Starring blankly out in the street you stifle a yawn feeling exhausted now that all of the adrenalin had worn off.

Embarrassment starts to sneak in, should you apologise to him? You wonder, turning your eyes up to his.

He looks down at you thoughtfully, as if you are a problem he needs to solve.

"Would you like to come in for a warm drink while you wait?" He asks gesturing towards his apartment across the road. His manner is cold and calculating but his actions had been nothing but generous and kind. It was a confounding combination.

You look up towards his apartment, probably not the best idea but you agree with a nod.

The thrill of the situation and the shock of the home invasion made everything seem less insane and more reasonable.

"I'd like that... thank you." You admit gratefully.

--

In his nice, high end apartment he stands across from you behind the kitchen island where you sit perched on a high stool.

He meticulously prepares you a warm drink before making some coffee for himself.

"It's a shame that we're finally meeting under such unsavoury circumstances." He says gently, pouring steaming liquid into a glass coffee mug.

You smile gently pushing a marshmallow around in your hot chocolate.

"As opposed to our usual unsavoury circumstances?" You laugh gently before sighing and resting your cheek against your hand.

"I like our thing." You confess keeping your eyes low.

"Me too." He replies softly before bringing the cup to his lips.

It felt good, to hear him say that.

Still, you knew how dangerous this was. Despite how comfortable you felt right now, there was something not right about this man, an air of malevolence (but that was thrilling too).

“Do you… “ you falter, unsure if you should continue but when you raise your eyes up to his one eyebrow quirks up, as if waiting patiently.

You clear your throat trying to rally your courage.

“Do you… watch other people?” You ask, almost instantly regretting it.

He takes another sip of his coffee, calm, unhurried.

His eyes never leave you. You struggle against the urge to squirm in the silence.

His focus on you was always so intense. Of course you enjoyed it, but being in a room together now, up close. It was something else, hot, fierce, like standing too close to the fire.

“I think that you want me to say no.” He murmers, eyes gleaming as he steps back away from you. Slowly, deliberately making his way around the long marble kitchen island that separates you both.

“I think, you enjoy my attention.” He continues, his lazy gait, unhurried on the tiled floor.

“I think you crave it.” his shoe clicks on the tiles, closer now.

He places a hand next to your hot cocoa, palm flat on the counter and leans in.

His other hand stays at his side, controlled.

“I think you enjoy being… just, out of reach.” He says closing in on you.

He leans in slowly, inch by inch, his breath brushes your cheek. Your heartbeat stutters. His lips near your ear.

“Just you.”

You stop breathing, the words settle on your skin, like ash. Hot, final, branded.

You don't move, his breath is still warm on your cheek.

Then he turns away, without a word. He walks towards the coat rack shrugging on a dark winter coat, it looks custom, fitted, clean.

You watch in silence as he walks back over towards you and grabs some of his personal items from a bowl on the counter.

He slides a key over the marble towards you with a shhhk.

“This is a spare key, you may come and go as you please.”

You stare at it.

“Are you… leaving?” the question feels louder than expected.

He doesn't answer at first, checking his phone.

”I have work.” he says simply.

“The spare room at the end of the hall is made up as a guest room. You’re welcome to stay while I'm out”

You nod slowly, processing this before asking.

“What … time do you usually come home?”

He pauses.

“Five ... Maybe six”

“AM?” You ask.

His eyes flick up.

“Yes"

That's all, Just one syllable. Heavy as stone.

He turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You call after him, stepping forward and reaching out, catching his coat sleeve.

“Thank you.” You say, meaning it, trying to show it with your eyes.

“It is nothing.” He says looking away and gently, but firmly pulling his arm away from you.

You watch his back disappear through the door. It closes slowly with a click.

Silence.

—

The spare room is immaculate, almost clinical, clean, comfortable and impersonal. Like a hotel room.

You go to the ensuite bathroom and splash water on your face, wincing when you see the large dark bruise blooming on your arm where you'd been dragged from room to room like a ragdoll. Helpless.

You quickly turn away from the mirror, and lay on top of the bed instead. You stare at the ceiling, mind racing, a deep sigh deflates you.

After about fifteen minutes, tossing and turning, you give in.

Of course you need to look in his room. Just in case there is some kind of creepy shrine dedicated to you, surrounded by candles or something.

You push the large door open, walking in to see black silk sheets on a large bed. You scrunch your nose at how typical it was of a wealthy strange man. His large walk in robe is filled only with fine clothing, all in shades of black and red. No shrine. You pick a discarded business shirt up off the edge of a laundry hamper and for some reason, you bring it to your face and inhale.

It smelled like cigarettes and aftershave and a subtle, spicy body odour. You knew this was weird of you but you were staying in your stalkers house after someone just threatened your life so you also felt like if there was a time you deserved a pass, it was now.

Through the long hallway of his walk in robe was the entrance to his bathroom, refined, spacious, stylish.

You’re pretty impressed by this point, and smile as you make your merry way back through to his bedroom. Now fully committed to disrespectful hedonism, you climb on to his bed and lay down with your head on the pillows. Sprawled out on top of the silk sheets you’re annoyed to admit they feel really nice.

Then you accidentally take a moment to let yourself think about everything that had happened in the last few hours. How blindsided you had felt, how helpless.

This time the tears well up in your eyes and you start to cry uncontrollably. The sadness and fear of what you had experienced pour out of you in shuddering, loud, uncontrollable weeping. You cry for a long long time, curled up on the black silk sheets, trembling as you weep. Staining them with your salted tears and smothering yourself in the scent of the strange man that watched you undress from across the road.

—

Silco comes home early, having delegated out as much work as feasible. It had been a long night, despite finally having held the woman of his desires in his arms for the first time. He sighs as he shrugs his slender shoulders out of his fitted coat, hanging it up on the rack before striding over to empty his pockets into the bowl on the kitchen counter. Noticing the half empty hot chocolate mug you had left in place, he pauses thoughtfully.

Turning his gaze up towards the hall where the spare room was.

He hesitates for a second before quietly and slowly padding up the hallway, he places a hand carefully on the doorknob and turns it, opening the door just enough to see...

Ah. It’s empty, she’s gone.

Of course, it was sensible and probably even polite for her to be gone.

Silco runs his fingers up through his hair and makes his way back out into the kitchen, reaching for his cigarette case and lighter, he strolls out through one of the large glass sliding doors onto the balcony, leaning on the railing and lighting his cigarette.

He looks out towards your apartment. The curtains are wide open as usual, the place was a mess but the police had all left at least. Silco glanced at the bed, empty. The couch, also empty.

Hmmmm, he didn’t like not knowing where you were. He also didn’t like not knowing things about you. He would resolve that, if you had family members or friends nearby that you had gone to stay with, he wanted to know.

He stubbs out the cigarette and strolls back inside, swinging the door to his bedroom open he starts unbuttoning his shirt, getting ready for bed.

A small noise makes him freeze, whipping his head to finally notice you, curled up delicately in the centre of his bed.

His breath catches for a moment at the sight and he wonders at it.

How your small soft form is so vulnerable, the gentle rise and fall of your breaths.

Hand curled towards your chest.

The slight parting of your lips, so peaceful.

So close.

Then your eyes flick open.

—

Your eyes snap open to see Silco, standing across from you, unbuttoning his shirt. You panic, realising that you’d slept in his bed, and now he was undressing as he approached you?

Oh no no no he was a creep, you knew it and you shouldn’t be surprised by it but this was too much. This was crossing the line, well further over the line. A new line?

You sprang up backing out of the bed and standing with your hands raised.

“I don’t want to sleep with you!” You blurt out defensively.

“Why are you in my bed?” He asks calmly, lowering his hands, leaving the top few buttons of his shirt open.

You falter.

“I offered you the spare room, at the end of the hall.” He says sternly pointing in that direction.

“I… I” You have no defence for this. Maybe you are the creep here?

He waits for a moment tilting his head.

“You what?” He asks. “Was there a pea under the mattress?” Taunting you now.

Your mouth snaps shut with your frown and you storm past him, making your way out of the bedroom door. In times like these, the best defence was a strong offence.

He turns cooly, watching you as you pass.

“Glad I could help.” He quips, following you at a measured distance.

His words still you briefly.

You turn to him, expression angry.

“Thank you for your help.” you bark awkwardly.

He gives a slight incline of the head. No more than that.

Then you storm out the door doing your best not to slam it like a child.

Definitely not your best work.

--

After the door shuts, Silco exhales through his nose in amusement.

"Her pride has teeth" he thinks, "but no aim."

Retreating into his room, he lays down, fully clothed on his bed, inhaling deeply.

It smells like her.

End.

——

Thanks for reading 🔪📖🖤

I have been really enjoying writing this so I hope you dig it!

Also- there’s A LOT more of it already written, so if you want more, let me know and I’ll try and make time to edit it sooner.

<3 Iron

—

>>>Continue on to Chapter two

The night was not going well. Your friend's life was in danger and you had gotten drunk and subsequently made a lot of mistakes. 

There was no other way to put it, sitting and eating sandwiches with Silco was a risk you should not have taken but you had been too sloshed to consider that in the moment and it was all made worse by the way he effortlessly extracted every last bit of problematic information that he needed from you. The man read you like an open book. Understandably in hindsight since he was technically your stalker and had invested some significant amount of time in watching your every move. 

Yet you were worried, no, terrified that you had put Mia at risk. 

You consider all of this in painstaking detail as you weave back through the hive-like ballroom towards your cursed place at Finns side.

Approaching the circular lounge area it almost feels like you are walking in slow motion under water. Your heart sinks when you see Mia has now joined Finn who eyes you accusingly as you make your way to join them. They’re sitting and chatting with a few other people you can’t make out quite yet.

Mia’s eyes are bright and sparkling, she looks radiant as she laughs and says something that has the people sitting across from her lean in, always so magnetic. 

It feels like spiders are skittering down your spine as you take your seat directly across from the diplomat of the Ascendancy. The very man Jules had warned you not to even look at, let alone go near, let alone sit with and have a chat. Archan Cesshiar. While you’re distracted Finn plucks a champagne flute from a passing tray and presses it into your hand, his fingers lingering too long against yours as he leans in, breath warm against your ear.

“Don’t pout,” he murmurs. “You’re prettier when you’re relaxed” You force a smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. “Thank you” you manage tightly. The glass is cool against your palm. You hold it, but you don’t drink.

“What is that saying in the ascendancy?” Mia says with a bright smile. “You’re always either three steps away from love or death?”

“It loses something in translation but… perhaps not in spirit.” Archan's voice is rich and clear despite his thick accent. “I’m surprised you have heard of this, I must admit… it is not one I hear from the unascended very often.”

You shift in your seat. You didn't like the way Archan was looking at Mia, too warm, too fond, the creases of his eyes too deep, his attention too wrapt in her. Damn her irresistible charm. 

Finn looks at you smugly out the corner of his eye, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

“Archan, let me introduce you to my other guest this evening.” Finn interjects, taking your free hand and pulling you to your feet.

Archan politely stands to reach across the table and take your hand, shaking it in a formal, customary greeting. You feel the full weight of his attention press down on you. His light brown eyes are almost yellow. Predatory and bright with calculating intellect as they drink you in.

“It’s a bit much, is it not Finn? to have not one, but two beautiful women on your arm this evening?” Archan says playfully, releasing your hand as you both your seat, but his eyes don’t leave you.

“One good girl and one bad girl. Balance” Finn quips back, equally playful.

Archan smiles wide and laughs before turning and looking between Mia and yourself.

“Hmmm but which is which I wonder.” He says rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Oh, I’m practically a holy saint, I’m the good one.” Mia says, her eyes gleaming, sipping her drink through smirking lips. 

“I doubt that very much” Archan counters with dangerous confidence. A small polite smile on his face. 

Mia raises her eyebrows at him in righteous defiance but before she can fire back he cuts her off.

“Speaking of good and bad things, Finn, may I offer you a cigar? I thought it might be a good excuse for us to take a moment on the balcony to briefly discuss some business as gentlemen.” Archan stands and clicks his fingers once, a boy appears with a box of cigars and proffers it to Archan, who selects two, passing one to Finn.

“Please excuse us ladies, we will be back in a moment.” Archan says as they walk away. 

Finn hesitates, his eyes flickering between you and Archans back just once before striding after the diplomat to the balcony. 

You wonder briefly if it was because he didn’t want to leave you unsupervised or because he didn’t want to be alone with Archan.

Mia turns to you and leans in with a wicked grin.

“Ugh, I want to climb that man like a Dagharian staircase” she says sipping her drink again. She’s obviously had a few too many cocktails to be saying this out loud.

“Archan?” You ask, eyebrows rising.

“Hes so sharp and quick witted and you know I love a challenge ” Mia smirks raising one eyebrow with cocky bravado.

“Oh no.” You interfere. “You do not find him attractive, do you understand?” You grab her shoulders. 

Mia looks back at you and smiles confidently and widely. Your stomach twists. Oh no she does not, this is not happening.

You look towards the balcony, Finn and Archan now out of sight. You hadn’t seen Wes since you got back either, so hopefully that was one less pair of eyes monitoring you both. “I’d take the yacht from our villa in the Capitol to visit you a few times a year,” Mia muses, clearly lost in her fantasy future. “You could stay with us for the summer festivals. Archan and I would throw the most scandalous parties.”

Your heart beat pounds in your chest as you quickly make a decision. You had to get Mia and yourself out of here. 

“I’m having a wardrobe malfunction, will you give me a hand in the bathroom?” You ask Mia lightly, but as subtly as you can manage, with your eyes and your expression you let her see something is wrong. 

Her eyes sharpen with a flicker of curiosity and concern and she quickly agrees, playing along. “Sure babe, let's wrangle those tits back where they belong.” Mia says as you both stand.

As soon as you get to the bathroom you check you are alone.

“Okay, what the hell is really going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Mia says following you as you pull open the doors to each toilet, to find all of them empty, the doors swinging and clanging loudly against the wall in your rush. Fuck, you need to get out of here. As you step back, you notice there’s another door at the end of the bathroom.

“Did you eat too much seafood again?” Mia continues. 

“What? No! I just…just give me a second” you say softly, trying not to sound frantic. As you open the door you see it leads to a small cleaning store room with windows that show the gardens beyond and there, bingo, another door out to the garden.

“We have to get out of here, right now. Please.” You say turning to her finally. “Please”

Mia frowns, obviously unsure but she looks at your face, really looks and just nods once. She looks concerned and a little bit scared. Your heart clenches at how much trust she has in you.

“Okay, okay, let’s go, I hate goodbyes anyway.” Mia agrees and you slide your hand into hers.

You slip out of the musty storage room, down a small service staircase onto the plush grassed lawns, soft and cold. Immediately your heels sink into them so you quickly pull them off. Mia mirrors you and before you know it you’re running hand in hand barefoot on the cold turf towards the hedge maze, everything stained silver under the bright moonlight. 

The air is cold and harsh in your lungs, the sweet scent of wet grass and the music of the ballroom growing more and more muffled and distant as you step into the shadows of the sharply manicured, looming hedges. 

You cast a quick and final look over your shoulder towards the grand estate building but see nobody running after you. Despite this, you still feel hunted as you turn along the path. The hedges are tall, maybe ten or eleven feet tall? It’s ominous the way they swallow you up, into darkness, the green walls blocking out the moonlight. 

As a stroke of luck, it seems like the main path had long ago been lined with brick pavers so you didn’t have to actually solve your way out, all you had to do was follow the paved path. 

You and Mia turn sharply around one corner to see a couple folded together kissing and giggling, they both yelp in scandalised surprise as the two of you brush past them and continue running, turning again and again along the winding pathway. 

As you round yet another dizzying corner you almost trip over her. Jewels from a broken necklace scattered around her glittering in the half light on the ground where she lay still. Too still. Her neck at an unnatural angle. Her wet eyes stare blankly at the ground, unmoving. 

Your mind flashes back through memories of earlier in the night. Finn and this woman clinking glasses “All empires fall, it’s only a matter of when…”

“Is she…” Mia whispers softly, her voice cracking before trailing off into the crushing silence.

You steel yourself and step over the corpse.

“Let's keep going, we‘ll run down the road further and then hail a cab.” You turn and look at Mia who’s eyes are fixed on the dead woman's body. Mia's free hand trembling clasped over her mouth in shock.

“Mia” you say softly pleading and giving her hand a gentle pull. “It’s not safe for us to say here, … we can’t help her.” You whisper.

“It feels wrong to just leave her like this.” Mia says, her throat tight, but she lets you pull her away. She keeps pace with you as you run through the remaining hedge maze in stunned silence. Each time you turn a sharp corner to find it empty is a relief. Till finally you are abruptly greeted by open sky.

There’s a small patch of open lawn before the tree line, and it feels like standing under a spotlight for just a moment before you both make it into the darkness of the forest at the edge of the property, panting and breathless you keep running.

–

Silco sits on a high balcony lounge overlooking the ball below, watching the games played out before him, silently observing who speaks to who and who shakes hands. The clacking of heels approaching draws his gaze to see the sequined suit of his personal assistant, Jules, approaching. Silco stubs out his cigarette, waving him forward. “Our asset just checked in, apparently the girls are on the run.” Jules says standing by his side and passing him a tablet. Silco takes it, it shows security footage of you and Mia hand in hand, clutching their heels and running barefoot across the manicured lawns of the estate, making a beeline for the hedge maze. Silco smirks at the sight before him briefly before handing the tablet back to Jules. “Keep an eye on them.” Silco instructs turning his gaze back to the ball. Jules nods and turns but quickly turns back. “Sir, Archan is approaching, shall I-” Jules starts but Silco waves him silent. “He’s welcome here, let him come.” Silco’s words are unbothered. Jules hesitates briefly before leaving. The Diplomat strolls up and politely gestures to the chair beside Silco, as if they were sun lounges by the pool at a resort. “May I?” Archan says cheerily as if they were old friends when in fact this was their first meeting. “Please” Silco nods towards the chair as he reaches for a cigarette, “Bring the diplomat some sparkling water” Silco’s order is quickly obeyed by a nearby attendant and a short moment later they place a small glass before Archan. “How considerate” Archan says as he lifts the glass in thanks. It was well known that alcohol was forbidden in the ascendancy. Silco dips his head to the lighter, the warm flame briefly illuminating him. “Why let your underlings run wild like this?” Archan asks, his words are bright and innocent. Silco chuffs an amused laugh, straight to the point then. Good, he preferred it like that. “So they think I’m not watching, and they show their hand.” Silco says lazily before blowing a plume of smoke out towards the crowd below.

Archan considers this for a moment. “Ah, a test then.” Archan offers as he leans back in his chair. Silco nods looking down at the crowd below. Archan holds the glass up and turns it lazily in his hand, watching the bubbles rise. “In my home country, a man who lets his dogs fight unchecked is usually the one who ends up torn to pieces.” Archan's tone is frank and polite. Silco’s smirk sharpens, but his eyes don’t stray from the crowd below. “And yet… when the dust clears, only the strongest hounds remain. I prefer my enemies to reveal themselves rather than sniff at shadows.” Silco flicks ash into the tray beside him. “It saves me the trouble of hunting.” Archan hums, amused. “Efficient and ruthless, your embargo proves as much. My countrymen are gnashing their teeth at word of Zaun closing it’s gates to our trade. You’ve cost us dearly Lord Silco.” Silco calmly turns to face Archan now. “Zaun will not be your corridor to Piltover, diplomat. Each barrier I build, each vein I bind—consider it a reminder. The Ascendancy may play its games elsewhere, but not through my streets. Keep pushing, and you’ll find the toll far higher than you imagined.”

“Strong words” Archan says calmly as he swirls his glass, lips curving faintly before he continues. “In Dagharal, we say every wall invites a siege. The higher the wall, the greater the glory when it falls. But I see now why they whisper your name with such irritation. You are not an easy neighbor, Lord Silco.” Archan's eyes glitter with amusement.

“No. I am not.” Silco smiles thinly, turning back to the ballroom.

–

Out onto the winding forest road you’ve both been walking for what feels like a long time, your bare feet feel raw on the rough surface of the road and your legs ache, till finally a cab comes past and you hail it down. 

The driver raises an eyebrow to find you both out on the road, holding your heels in your hands but it obviously wasn’t the strangest thing the old man had ever seen, so he didn’t question you as you climbed into the vehicle. The radio played corny old country music on a crackling AM station.

You let yourself take a deep breath and exhale, trying to ground yourself.

Sitting in the middle of the back seat with Mia resting her head on your shoulder, you feel her body warm and comforting against yours. Her familiar smell mixed with alcohol. 

You still both held hands as if you could save each other from what you had just seen. Sitting together in silence, grateful to be getting away from the madness of the ball.

After a long while Mia lifts her head and looks at you. 

“Will you tell me what really happened?” she asks. 

Your eyes turn towards the driver and you catch his eyes flick away from you in the rear view mirror before you look back at Mia.

“I promise I will tell you everything as soon as we get back.” You say squeezing her hand and nodding.

Mia looks frustrated and impatient but she nods slowly before resting her head on your shoulder again. 

You sigh again, this time a little of the tension leaves your shoulders.

Then the world blurs, as if it were an oil painting and somebody dragged everything sideways. There was no noise, no warning. If anything the moment was eerily silent. 

You saw a flash of headlights, but you didn’t hear the metal tearing apart like paper as another vehicle slammed directly into yours, pushing the taxi off the road. You saw your heels fly up into the air and slam around before you felt a huge weight in your chest and across your waist. That must have been the car rolling a few times before lodging itself upside down against the trees.

You couldn't see Mia’s face, it was obscured by her hair beside yours, going straight up into the air, her arms raised up limply, relaxed fingers gently curled against the ceiling. A small stream of blood ran from her fingertips down her arm. No… it was the other way around the blood must come from somewhere on her body and… you blink slowly, confused, your head pounding 

It wasn't much blood, and you could see her breathing steadily. It seemed like she was okay.

The driver was gone, you didn’t know where, possibly flung out of the car when the windscreen came out. He was an older man, it was safe to assume he probably wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.

Your arms felt so heavy hanging above your head like this you think as you blink slowly again, but this time you slip away into quiet.

You hear yelling and feel your hanging body shake gently as someone pulls the crumpled door open. Two voices, but the words you can’t make out. 

A rescue team, you realise and relief floods through you. Arms reach in and you turn your heavy eyes to see Mia being carefully removed by two people. You smile to yourself, letting your eyes slip shut again. It’s okay, she’s going to be okay. Then you hear an engine start and the sound of tyres on the road driving away. 

Now it’s silent again.

What happened to the rescue team? Did they not see you? Did they forget you? Your heart sinks and you struggle to lift your arms up, it takes you a few tries but you manage to press the button and undo your seatbelt. You fall awkwardly and painfully in a tangle of your own limbs. New pains you had not noticed bloom across different parts of your chest. It hurts to breathe. Despite all of this, you force yourself to army crawl just out the open door of the car, feeling soil, leaf litter and pine needles under your hands and bare arms. Each wriggle and twist of your body makes you grit your teeth with the effort, till you’re out of the car, propping yourself up against the frame, clutching your side and panting with the effort. Something crawls over your thigh, it feels like an insect maybe but you’re too exhausted to care.

–

Silco is alone now, the Diplomat having left some time ago. The familiar sound of heels sounded on the stairs to the balcony, but something about the rushed speed at which they clacked towards Silco made him turn as Jules approached with a strained and frantic expression. “The girls’ cab was T-boned on the forest road. Finn’s men hit them hard. They took the friend—Mia.” Jules’ words came fast and breathless. Silco’s brows knit together, his jaw ticking as Jules rushes to continue. “Our asset reports your girl, was left behind, and I quote “breathing but not good” so-” Silco is already at his feet heading towards the garage, his long legs setting a pace that means Jules has to half run to keep up. “I have a car ready, and emergency services are inbound” “I would expect nothing less” Silco growls in affirmation as they make their way towards the crash site. His glove tightened around his fist until leather creaked. He had let her stray too far. He would not make the same mistake twice. –

The car is a wreck of twisted metal, one side completely crushed against a tree, the roof lowered by what must have been repeatedly rolling sideways off the road into the treeline. It seemed strange that something so strong as metal could be forced into such wild organic shapes. The smell of burned rubber and spilled fuel thick in the air. Silco hears far away sirens approaching in the distance, cutting through the night. His shoes crunch shattered glass into the asphalt as he approaches, pushing past some broken branches and crushed vegetation to find her propped up beside the car head slumped forward one had wrapped loosely around her waist. Her arms and legs bare, looking unusually pale under the moonlight, no shoes, dress streaked with mud, likely from when she dragged herself out of the vehicle. This draws a small smile from Silco who pulls off his coat and drapes it carefully over her. Defiant little creature he thinks to himself proudly as he weaves his arms around her and with a soft breath of exertion lifts her up, bridal style. He shifts her weight slightly tilting his arms up so that she folds against him, her head cradled against his shoulder. He notices her eyelashes flutter as he starts to carry her back to the road. “Silco” she whispers softly. It pulls unexpectedly at something deep in his chest. He stops at the edge of the road, turning away from it to shield her from the gathering onlookers, content to hold her as the ambulance approaches. She fit snugly in his arms, her body warm against him. She blinks a few times, her eyes sharpening. Silco lifts his view into the trees, apparently deep in thought. “Every day, I decide who is spared and who is spent. Who gets broken to buy tomorrow. That’s the cost of power, Little Flame, it’s sacrifice. Not gold, not steel but blood… always blood.” Silco’s words spill into the night, confident and clear. “It’s a necessity, to lead a nation, one must be ready to drive in the blade and cut out the rot, without hesitation at the very first signs of infection. That’s what it means to sit at the heart of a great empire. It’s not always easy, and often cruel but nonetheless it must be done.” He tilts his gaze down to you now, his eyes shift into an expression you don’t recognise on him. “Tonight I allowed you to remain at the ball… a calculated risk, and you played your part beautifully, whether you knew it or not. You endured and in doing so revealed where my blade needs to slice. As for Finn and his unrefined little games… he won’t be an issue for much longer.” Then unexpectedly, Silco chuckles, you feel the deep rumble against you. “You surprised me tonight, never making the move I expected. Trying to run, foolish but admirable. You tried to drag her clear of the danger so you ran from Finn, from the ball.” Red and Blue flashing lights stain the sky as you hear the ambulance approach. Something rattles towards you with voices approaching. Silco turns towards the two paramedics, wheeling a stretcher beside them. “But running from me was never an option. You see that now.” Silco says softly as he places you gently on the stretcher, you open your mouth to protest and try to sit up but before you can respond paramedics push in, quickly introducing themselves and asking you rapidfire questions which you answer as best you can. 

One lifts a small torch to your eyes encouraging you to look into it, the brightness makes your eyes water, it’s so disorienting.

The Paramedics chattered over you in clipped efficient medical jargon. “Bad concussion, possible TBI—”

“You thinking RSI?”

“Yep, let’s do it.” Silco stays one step behind them as they load you into the ambulance, climbing in after them, taking a seat out of the way in the brightly lit room with one while the other gets in and starts driving.

The paramedic is kind but fast as he quickly talks you through what's happening. Attaching monitors to you and sliding a mask over your face. You try to turn to Silco, to say something but the paramedic holding your arm says “you’re going to feel a slight pinch” and the sedative slips cleanly into your veins, your lashes sink closed. “We’ll take her to Morrowfield” Silco says to the paramedics as he climbs in after them. “The best in town.” “It’s further but she’s stable… shouldn't be a problem.” the paramedic confirms before relaying that information to the driver. Silco watches her limp body shift gently with the sway of the vehicle. Each rise and fall of her chest a gentle reassurance. For a brief instant, something stirred, a flicker of how easily this night could have ended in stillness where her breath now was, but he crushes it before it can fully surface. He would not indulge such weakness. He would not even name it. She was alive here and now and that was the only truth permitted. To imagine otherwise was an indulgence he would never allow himself. She could not be lost to him. Not in life, not in thought.

With slow and careful precision Silco peels off the glove from his right hand and reaches over to rest his hand over hers, anchoring her to him.

He holds it there for the rest of the journey.

--

Thanks so much for reading Chapter 5! 🔪📖🖤

I was so close to finishing this chapter when I got a FAT BLAST of inspiration that changed it completely. Unfortunatley that meant I had to rewrite it from scratch, but I love this new version WAY more, it is honestly such a glow up. I hope y'all like it cause I had a great time writing this one. It was super fun. I got NONE of my housework done this weekend, a sacrifice I am willing to make.

<3 Iron

--

VIP AREA @mistershotz @manicmauve @deviantgamergirl @oceansssblue

If I missed anyone, or you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know! <3

--

Finn’s hand tugs on your arm like an iron shackle, dragging you deeper into the maddening crowd. You sip your champagne awkwardly as you walk, as if the bubbles might settle your nerves. They don’t though. If anything, you know it will probably just make things worse. 

You're still trembling slightly, trying to breathe, trying to still the storm inside you.  

Your exit had felt like abandonment just as much as it felt like a rescue. 

You let Finn pull you up alongside someone he seems to know, pausing in a quieter space along the edge of the ballroom, leaving you feeling like a parked car for him to lean against and show off while he chatters away.  

“Well, you know what they say? When in Shurima,” a woman says, laughingly at something Finn just said. He grins, and you notice the creases at the corner of his eyes seem more genuine now, his mood lighter. 

“Don’t forget that Shurima fell,” he counters, raising his glass. “All great empires do… it’s only a matter of when.” 

The woman hesitates, then clinks her glass to his. “Bold. But undeniably true.” 

You're not really paying attention to their blithering, your eyes still distant as you keep a polite smile plastered on your face, content to present yourself simply as bimbo arm candy for the moment. 

Your thoughts are still back at the staircase, replaying the scenes out of order and scattered across your mind like buckshot. Silco’s ribbon, how his disappointment carved into you, the way he stood before you, the way his eyes sunk into your own, the curl of his lip as he critically appraised your ballroom attire and apparently found it distasteful, if not entirely offensive.     But worst of all is the ribbon, that damn ribbon... even though you aren't supposed to be here. Does that mean he wore it for himself? Or perhaps he knew you would be here? Both options seemed awful. Your stomach churns as you take a slightly desperate swig of the remaining champagne in your glass. 

You hope you haven’t fucked it all up completely, whatever strange thing existed between you and Silco. Even though you aren’t his. And there are no rules or promises between you. You certainly aren't in a relationship with him. He just... watches you. 

So... why did it feel like a betrayal?    Why did you feel so small and ashamed to be caught like this? Seeking comfort on a night out away from the madness. Why did it feel like it mattered so much that you’d been caught red handed arriving on another man’s arm? 

The woman Finn had been speaking to turns away with a laugh and a clink of crystal. 

Now Finn pivots back to you. 

“Did I mention how beautiful you look tonight?” he asks, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. It feels so sudden and unexpectedly, wildly invasive. 

You give him a polite smile, if not slightly forced. 

“Even your smile… gorgeous.” He adds. He doesn’t care if it’s fake, apparently, so long as it looks the part. 

His wicked green eyes flicker between yours, reading your face with that infuriating cockiness of his. Then he tilts his head like a friendly puppy. 

“You looked like you were going to faint when you saw him.” 

Your heart thuds. He knows? No, he's just fucking with you, how could he know? 

Your thoughts are derailed further when he suddenly steps into your space, his lips hovering just over yours. His arms snaking lazily around your waist. 

“Do you want me to make you forget him?” he murmurs, the words brushing over your skin, unwanted. 

Your hands grip his forearms reflexively in an attempt to keep some space between you, but he leans in closer still. You feel is warmth and the scent of alcohol, his cologne and something else, maybe shampoo? 

“I can help…” he whispers his words soft and intimate, filthy with mock generosity. 

You had wanted to feel desired, tonight was supposed to be something easy. A night to enjoy and forget all your troubles but … but not like this.  

Nothing about Finn was attractive to you, he was too slick, too sleazy, too cold in a way that felt dangerous and not in the fun way. You'd go home to your massage wand before you'd bed him. If you arrived with him tonight, you'd prefer not to go home with him, you knew that much for certain. No amount of champagne was going to shift that sentiment. 

You turn your face away, pushing gently at his arms. 

He chuckles and for some reason it feels like a slap, even though you were the one who refused him. 

He hesitates for a beat and you look carefully up at him to see something sharp glinting behind his eyes but then he steps back smiling like nothing happened.  

“I need… a moment,” you say gently, desperate to get away. 

“Of course” he says, still smirking lazily and he lets you go. 

As you walk away, you feel Finns eyes on your exposed back like fishhooks in your skin. 

-- 

Outside in the crisp fresh air, you lean on a stately stone balcony, overlooking the grand estates main garden. Moonlight pools generously over the greenery below. Sharp hedges and patterned formal plantings create an interesting geometric feast for the eyes made more mysterious by the half light.     A man and a woman exit the building from the floor below you, walking out some distance into the garden. Thinking themselves hidden under the shroud of darkness, despite the brightness of the moon, they fold together into a passionate and deep kiss.  

It goes on so long you're about to look away when they suddenly tear apart, panting, staring into each other's eyes for a charged moment before continuing up the garden path, hands clutched together, giggling and laughing till they disappear into the large, distant hedge maze, now truly out of view.    In the wake of their absence, you feel a longing squirm inside your gut, you try to brush it aside but it twists there, gnawing and clawing at you in discontent.     "You envy them" Comes a woman's voice, rich and deep with a light accent that you can't place. You turn your head just slightly to see her, watching you from nearby. A tall, elegant woman with a square jaw, her eyes sharp as knives, wearing brilliant emerald green that catches the moonlight as she considers you. She's clearly amused, her lips tilted into a gentle smirk, not unkind but not gentle either.  

"Excuse me?" you blink, caught off-guard. 

She doesn't explain herself, casually striding closer, joining you at the balcony railing, her champagne glass swirling in an elegant hand.  

"Don’t bother denying it," she leans her hip against the balcony, her eyes drinking you in, curious and appraising, as if you were a stray she was considering sheltering. She's close enough that you can smell her perfume, sharp and beautiful, like flowers cut by steel. 

  "It’s human nature, to see something that looks reckless and free and then desire it for ourselves." Her eyes flicker across your face. "Even if it will never truly nourish us." Her voice drops lower, almost a warning.  

She holds herself like a queen, easy confidence, as if she's never doubted herself before, indomitable.  

A breath of silence.  

"Quite a dangerous game" Her last words are softer, almost a whisper. 

  Your heart races, this feels like a warning, like she's trying to tell you something but right now it merely sloshes against all the champagne bubbling in your hazy mind. 

Her sharp eyes crease slightly at the corners as she studies your reaction. She sips her drink, gaze not breaking from yours, holding the moment for a long, pregnant pause before she seems satisfied and grins. Without another word she turns away, disappearing back into the bright lights of the ballroom.    You are left standing there, confused about exactly what just happened.  

Wes approaches a few moments later, giving you a polite moment of respite before breaking the silence.    "I see Lady Rin has made herself known to you." He says gently as he approaches. 

"You saw that" you mumble, turning to look up at him, his eyes confirm your question.  

"You're not Finn's friend, are you" You say to him, it's not a question. "You work for him."    He nods without hesitation, without trying to lie or feign looking guilty. You respect him for that. 

You sigh. "Is everyone here a predator?" You ask as you stare into the night, feeling drained.    Wes looks down at you for a long moment, then he looks out at the garden, shoulders sagging slightly. 

  "Probably" he admits. "They're definitely all dangerous." 

  You purse your lips but you appreciate his frank honesty, he was like a grounding breath of fresh air in all this madness. You didn't trust him, but for some reason you felt more at ease around him than the other glittering beasts that stalked the ballroom floor. Their long sharp claws tapping against the cold marble with every step.    You both stood there for a moment longer, thoughtful and calm in the fresh air, until Wes finally turns towards you.    "Let's go check on Mia, before she ends up in a scene from "Eyes Wide Shut" or something." He mutters dryly. 

  You laugh at the very real possibility of that when it comes to Mia, and follow him back into the glittering chaos of the ballroom, where monsters masquerade as man.    ---    When you reach the bar you find Mia laughing with a handsome man in heels, sporting immaculate eyebrows and a black sequined suit.   "-and then HE explained what exsanguinate actually means so our man's just standing there with a face like a slapped ass!" Sequin suit guy's story has Mia nearly in tears laughing so you eagerly take a chair and join them all at the table.  Mia introduces you in-between gasping breaths as she recovers from laughing way too hard.  "Jules" The man who had been telling the story introduces himself warmly in return, his bright eyes skimming over you in hasty evaluation.    "So THEN what did he do?" Mia slaps the table demanding Jules to continue, her expression intensely curious. 

  "So our man, obviously he excuses himself, because... what else can he do right?..." Jules continues and everyone laughs in disbelief. Even though you missed the start, the laughter is so infectious that you giggle along, enjoying the story. You feel cozy here for the moment, feeling like you're taking refuge, sipping a tall glass of whatever Mia handed you, vodka lime and soda maybe?    You don’t tell Mia what happened with Finn and you're grateful that she's so engaged in her repartee with Jules that doesn’t seem to notice anything off in your return, so you feel like you've nailed your "I'm fine" act. Until Wes catches your eye across the table, by the look he shoots you, immediately you know he's clocked your unease. Gratefully he doesn’t make a scene but instead waits for an opportunity to covertly lean in.  

"You alright?" He asks it softly, so only you hear. 

You nod and wave your hand dismissively, making sure not to draw Mia's attention. He gives you a small nod but his sharp eyes linger on you for a moment longer before turning back into the conversation. 

  As Mia turns to chat with someone else you're surprised when Jules leans in to your space his eyes fixed on something behind you.  "Don't look now, I just said DON'T look" he says as you start to turn.  "Theres a man in the distance there, with a grey suit, he wears the sigil of The Ascendancy."  "Okay... now, quickly take a look" Jules prompts and you do you best to turn casually and steal a glance.  

You see a man wearing a grey suit, nobody stands too close to him, people near him seem to all look stiff and uncomfortable. He stands still in the centre, smiling as he talks, holding a small glass.  You turn back to Jules.  "Who is he?"  "He's a diplomat, he represents The Ascendancy. His name is Archan, stay well clear of him. Don't even look at him, you do not want to be on that mans radar, okay?"  You nod absently turning to sneak another look but Jules grabs your face by the chin and turns it back towards him. "Nonononono, I was not kidding honey, Don't even look at him." Jules says, deadly serious.   You sigh exasperated and narrow your eyes up at Jules in defiance.  

"Joykill" You grumble, it was frustrating that he warn you about something so intriguing and dangerous in your midst only for you to not be allowed to even look at it. It was like telling someone on a safari to not look at the lions. 

"I'd rather kill your joy now than see your feet poking out the bottom of a rolled up carpet." Jules jabs back, tipping his glass towards you before knocking back the remains and leaving the table. 

You roll your eyes and smile at his dramatic warning but silently decide to heed it for now.  

The music stops and an overly enthusiastic voice makes an announcement on the other side of the room saying something would be happening in the main stage.  

You look up and laugh to see that Mia is already rushing into the crowd towards the excitement and decide to follow after her. 

As you cross the ballroom floor in between little cellular gatherings of people you wade through the sea of unknown faces when you think you recognise someone unexpected and familiar.   "Echo?" You ask making the awkward scrunched, unsure face that everyone makes upon recognising someone from a lifetime ago.  His face breaks into a brilliant smile confirming your suspicions and he draws you into a massive bear hug. You hadn't seen him since high school.  "What the hell are you doing here?" He asks chucking "This is the last place I thought I'd run into you."  "Oh I was invited with a friend by a guy called Finn" you shrug a gesture of "isn't this crazy?"  Echo's smile falters for a second and concern creeps into his features.   "Did you say Finn? Like... yellow suit Finn?" He asks his warm brown eyes widen slightly.  "Yeah I don't really know him, he invited my friend and I along. It's fine, it's just a party." You shrug and smile trying to assuage his concerns but he just doubles down.  "He buy you that dress too?" He asks pointedly, his tone more serious now.  "Well... yes but-"  Echo sighs.   "You know that yellow? That's Tetrad yellow, Finns crew. This charity ball is practically a networking event for all the biggest players in the undercity, hosted by a the Kingpin himself. This isn't just a party."  Your brows furrow in disbelief but as you look around the room, everything suddenly seems to align with what he is saying. The way everyone has been talking in riddles and half truths, the woman who kicked you out of the hallway talking about your dress, this fucking obnoxious yellow colour. You even watch a man, just a few meters away subtly pull a thick envelope out of his suit jacket and subtly slip it into another mans pocket as they shake hands, thinking nobody saw.  Only you saw it, and so did Echo, who catches your eye now pointedly.  "You see now?" 

You resign a nod and sip your drink letting it sink in, adjusting your perception around this new information as best you can.  

It was a lot. 

"What do you know about Silco?" You ask suddenly, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can help yourself.  Echo's eyebrows shoot up in wide eyed horror.  "Please tell me you have nothing to do with Silco" he begs you stepping backwards.  "He can't be that bad, he's just a man." You say trying to minimise.  Echo laughs in disbelief.  "He's more like a monster." Echo says.  You're about to reply when a body slams into yours. 

You hit the marble floor hard, the breath knocked out from your lungs for a moment, you feel something cold and wet across your side and a glass shatters further away.   What the hell just happened?  You try to sit up, spying another person sprawled the floor nearby, a waitress. She must have knocked you over as she fell but... but the force at which you had fallen didn't add up with her slender frame.  People rush in, some nearby gentlemen assisting you both to your feet. 

You look up to see Echo backing away from you into the crowd. "I'm sorry" he mouths as he retreats.  The girl who ran into you looks ready to cry. She’s helped up by another man in a dark suit. You catch her whispering "I was pushed."  You take a hand offered to you, thanking them earnestly as they pull you to your feet.  Wes pushes through the crowd,  

“I saw you fall, are you hurt?” He asks with stern professional concern. “How did this happen?”   You wave your hand.   “I’m fine.” You explain. “Someone knocked a waitress into me and we fell, it was an accident.”   Wes’ eyes sharpen and his brows furrow slightly as he looks down at you. You follow Wes' gaze to your dress, the yellow flourish was entirely transformed, every inch of it stained deep red. Not a single speck of yellow remained. 

You marvel at this as one of Finns other men approaches Wes and softly tells him something you can’t hear. Wes gives a tiny nod and the man peels away as Wes scans the crowd briefly before looking back at you and sighing gently.  "He's not going to be happy."   

--   

Finns face sours for a split second as he eyes your dress when you approach, escorted by Wes.  

To his credit it's a subtle flicker, only a moment but you had been searching for it, so you recognised it distinctly. 

You feel guilty for a split second, then remember his predatory behaviour when he'd just tried to kiss you earlier and you instantly feel significantly less bad. 

You apologise and explain what happened and upon hearing the story he laughs. 

“Well would you look at that?” He grabs a glass of champagne and raises it to the crowd around you.  

“To unpredictable nights and unforgettable women.” Everyone laughs and toasts their merryment.  

But when the moment passes he pulls you aside subtly, walking you off the ballroom floor so you’re alone in a small room just off the main hall. 

After his attentions earlier you feel very vulnerable being in the room alone with him now.  

"I think maybe I should go home, the dress is all wet from the wine and-" you start to explain. 

He smiles and steps close suddenly, halting your words and you find yourself stepping backwards away from him.  

“You’re supposed to be my guest, all you had to do was look beautiful and wear a dress.” He leans in, eyes scanning yours. “You can't even managed that. Disappointing” He curls past you and starts to circle you slowly.  

Anger unfurls inside you at this unjust treatment. 

“You can’t be mad that someone knocked me to the floor and spilt wine on me.” You retort bitterly.  

At this he snaps towards you, wrapping his large hand under your chin and grabbing your face, lifting it up to his. You grasp at his wrists uselessly as he squeezes. His pale green eyes like toxic fire.  

“You let it happen.” He hisses sofly. You look up at him, he’s hurting you. Lifting you up just slightly so you struggle to gain purchase in your high heels, making a pathetic sound as they scrape awkwardly against the floor in the tense silence. That and your heavy stilted breathing.  

He's so strong that it's easy for him, which is all the more terrifying. His eyes are so cold and merciless, that you see it now, you are nothing to him. A part of you’d suspected this but you didn't understand the extent. Couldn't fathom the severity of it. Like he could slit your throat, look into your eyes as you died and then have a nice night out and sleep like a baby. Guilt free, no remorse. 

You honestly had not seen Finn as a real threat till this very moment, and now?, now you were very afraid.  

After a beat his eyes flicker and he loosens his grip, you pant a sigh of relief, as you feel your feet plant down on the ground properly.  

“I am a generous man though” he smiles, stroking a thumb over your cheek before pulling away and resuming his menacing circle around you. “Maybe I could buy a ticket for one of your friends or family so they can take a trip? Somewhere nice, somewhere they’ve always wanted to go. A long one, maybe they won’t come back for a very long time.” He smiles at you sweetly as the threat sinks in. “Would you like that?” He asks as he trails around behind you.  

You feel breathless, so you shake your head. This wasn't happening. No no no. 

His sharp eyes catch it and he mocks hurt surprise.  

“So ungrateful, tch, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew you were difficult from the start. A leopard can’t change its spots, unless you skin it... or spill wine on it.” He laughs coldly at the last comment shooting you a glare.  

“So difficult girl, let me make myself crystal clear.” Finn finishes circling to stand in front of you, looking down at you so he blocks the light above him casting you in his shadow. 

“You play nice, you smile on my arm. You wear MY dress, and if you disappoint me again,... before you can even apologize, I’ll buy a ticket for Mia and she'll be on the first flight out.”  

All the blood drains from your face, it was one thing to be reckless with your own safety but the burden of responsibility for your beautiful, innocent friend? That chills you to your bones. Your mouth goes dry, the room feels too small, your guts flip. 

Finn looks pleased as he smirks down at your horrified face. Watching the dread sink in, savoring it. 

“I’m glad we understand each other.” He says stroking the side of your cheek with his fingertips. You almost flinch away before you stop yourself out of fear for Mia.  

Disrespect was such a vague term, who knows how far he might decide it goes. 

Finn notices, of course he does, and his smug smirk widens to show more of his shark like teeth. 

“I’ll leave you with some time to think, and then l expect you to join me for the rest of the night.” His voice is smooth and smug as he turns towards the exit.  

“Oh and… before I forget" he pauses in the doorway turning back to face you. "Don’t even think of running to Silco. If you do, I’ll know. The old mans power is waning, his people aren’t as... reliable as they once were.” he drums his fingers once on the door frame giving you a final grin before he's gone. 

-- 

  You found an empty powder room nearby and now stood in front of the mirror staring at yourself.  

You looked immaculate, facing yourself in the mirror surrounded by flowers, which made this feeling rising inside you feel so much more alien. 

Without the thick event makeup you might look pale, but it was all hidden underneath layers of powders and foundation and whatever else. A perfect mask of beauty, to hide all the ugly truths buried underneath.   

Beneath the exterior, it feels like the room can't contain your stress and frustration as you stand there struggling to hold back tears. All that had happened in the last few hours felt like you had spent it receiving blow after blow of new and unique problems stacked heavily on top of each other. All you had wanted was a fun night out, instead you had been granted a nightmare, one that you can't wake up from.   

You'd placed your friend in mortal danger, been dragged into some stupid criminal pissing competition. You'd spurned the one man you actually wanted, who you should also definitely not want or be with ever. 

Your eyes fix on the red stained patch of your once yellow and black dress. It felt wet and sticky against your skin but the silk material betrayed none of your discomfort, it looked immaculate even now, not even wet. It still looked nice, the deep red could even pass as intentional the way the colour and design worked. It would have been better if the dress had been more obviously ruined or damaged, then you might have an excuse to leave. 

The strange itchy feeling suddenly sparks and ignites now, into white hot fury. You want to tear the damn dress off, discard it and burn it. Shed the damn thing like a snake sheds it's skin and is renewed, restored. The feeling of it against your bare flesh is unbearable.  

You very strongly consider smashing the vase in front of you, but the soft beauty of the flowers slowly eases your rage. It's not the flowers fault you are angry, they should not have to suffer for it, and it's certainly not your fault that you find yourself here and now.  

You just needed one night out with your friend to let off some steam. A few drinks, a warm body, to dress up, to feel desired, beautiful even, a moment to feel like a normal person. You didn’t ask for any of this. You didn’t want any of this. It's not your fault, none of this is your fault. 

You take a deep inhaled breath through your nose and draw yourself together.  

It's just a dress, it looks beautiful, I can wear it for the rest of the night, and then cut it into one million pieces and burn it later.  You take a few more deep breaths, looking into your own eyes and composing yourself in the mirror till you feel ready to return to the Ball.  

For Mia. 

--    You smile distantly and try to laugh at the right time, but mentally you’re a million miles away while your body is here on parade, on display. Finn hands you another glass of champagne that you accept gratefully, numbing yourself to your rage can only help in this situation you've decided.  

The men chatting to Finn laugh in a rumbling chuckle, but something about their tone feels off, so you tune back in. Finn seems to notice your eyes sharpen as you enter the present moment with awareness.  

"There she is" he smirks and the men laugh again.  

"Sorry, did I miss something?" you ask with your forced smile laid on thick.  

"No matter dear, we were talking about you, not to you." a gruff old man drawls.  

You feel your hackles rise so you take a measured sip of champagne and smile.  

"All good things I hope." you chirp playfully.  

"Finn was just telling us you're a good sport." says one of the other men, in a way that makes you pause. Your eyes turn to Finns as uncertainty and fear flicker inside you. He looks down at you grinning.  

"She's a good girl, always on her best behaviour, and always treats my friends with respect. Isn't that right babygirl" Finn says pulling you closer to him by the waist. You hesitate for a loaded moment as you look into Finns eyes and consider clawing them bloody but remembering Mia's safety you smile wide and lean against him.  

"That's right Finny" you say adorably, hoping he hates it.  

The men around him laugh and you feel sick to your stomach.  

You held no ire for the girls who did this kind of thing wilfully, but to be forced into it was grating on your raw nerves.   "Stand up and do a little spin for us." He gently pushes you forward and your spine stiffens. Finn was clearly toying with you, seeing how far he could push you. 

You shoot Finn a brief look and he simply raises his brows, waiting. Mia's smiling face flashes through your mind and your heart aches. So you rise, pushing yourself up to your feet and indulge your audience in one slow, elegant, single spin before sipping your champagne and batting your lashes. Finn stands to join you and places one firm arm protectively around you. 

"She is a lovely thing." One of the men says wistfully to Finn, never addressing you directly you notice. You tilt your head and smile at him like a vacant doll. 

"I'm glad you agree, she's very special." Finn lifts your chin forcing your eyes to meet his as he says "It's hard to find well behaved girls like this." 

-- 

  You've been on Finns arm for a while and you'd drank multiple glasses of champagne in that time so it's not unreasonable when you need a moment to use the restroom.  

When you try to pull away and excuse yourself he holds your arm tightly and you hesitate, turning back to meet his brilliantly cold, green, smirking eyes.  

"Don't forget my promise." He says. With that, the hairs rising on the back of your neck feel like cold needles prickling against your skin.  

You force a smile. 

"How could I forget" you say, a sickly sweet little jab.  

"Good girl" his words land like a pat on the head, and it makes your blood boil. You hold your smile though, as he loosens his grip, dismissing you.  

Unmoored from Finn and wandering through the crowd alone now you realise that you're quite a bit more tipsy than you'd intended. All those glasses of champagne were starting to add up. 

You walk slowly on your way back from the restroom, unwilling to return to Finn but forcing each step as you turn back towards the hall that leads back to the ballroom.  

Before you can get more than halfway back a soft spoken waitress approaches.  

"Excuse me ma'am, a moment?"  

You blink and nod, slightly bewildered as she leads you through to an alcove room, a small curtained lounge off the main floor.  

She waits for you to enter before she pulls the curtain shut, closing the ball room away and dampening the noise, the effect made the space feel private. This room was darker, and you blink as your eyes adjust to the dimness after the dazzling ballroom.  

"Are we having fun?" Comes a familiar smokey voice.    Your surprise is interrupted as the waitress pulls a seat out and gestures for you to sit at a small table, you hesitate for a moment, your brows furrowing, but you do so.  

"You're drunk." Silco's eyes slither over you in obvious disgust. You feel your cheeks heat slightly as you sit there, cold and sticky in your wine stained dress. He was of course, infuriatingly correct.  

You open your mouth to say something but Silco raises his hand and cuts you off as the waitress delivers a silver tray and places it before you, lifting the silver dome to reveal a variety of small pastries, tiny sandwiches, meats, olives, even a small serving of soup.  

"Eat." He commands in a tone that leaves little room for argument.  

You'd never heard him use such a tone with you before. It was so ruthless and sharp that you could probably cut stone with it.  

You consider arguing but when your eyes flicker between the food and his and he narrows his own eyes at you in a dark humorless scowl, you decide it's probably not the time to test his patience. 

You reach forward and pull the soup towards you and start spooning it into your mouth. It's rich and warm and comforting in a way you were not expecting.  

You finish the soup quickly, the spoon making a gentle sound as you place it down the and move on to the sandwiches, cut into silly little triangles. The bread was soft and fluffy and the variety of fillings were delicious. 

Silco was silent as you ate, which strangely was not uncomfortable. In fact you got the sense he was pleased and contented to sit there and smoke a cigarette in peace while you quietly ate. 

You were already starting to feel much better, sharper, more refreshed. 

You reach for the glass of water, it was ice cold, flavored with cucumber and lavender. The taste was delicate and refreshing in a way you'd never experienced. Your eyes widen in surprise at how good it is as you shamelessly chug more of it. 

"You're not supposed to be here" Silcos voice cuts through the silence unexpectedly and you put the glass down to look at him. 

He doesn't turn towards you though, instead he continues smoking and staring straight ahead as if he is deep in thought.  

Clearly he's talking at you and not asking an actual question. Typical behaviour of someone "very important". You valiantly resist the urge to roll your eyes. 

You wait a polite moment and he gestures annoyed for you to keep eating before you select another delicious little sandwich and bite into it. 

He's silent for a while longer as you continue to nibble silently at the meal before you like a rabbit. 

"Something happened." He says, turning towards you now.  

You look at him annoyed because you'd just taken the large final bite of a sandwich and your mouth was much too full to talk. Did he do that on purpose? It feels like it takes a long time to chew and swallow. In your rush you now need a drink of water before you can respond. 

You explain how you were knocked over, pointing to the now red flourish over your hip.  

Did he just smile at that? You swore the corner of his mouth quirked up. 

He waves his hand dismissively and shakes his head. 

"No no no... I know about that."  

You frown at him, waiting for him to continue. You're holding a sandwich but not game to take another bite till you know what he's going to say. 

  "Something else happened. You look pathetic... scared... Did he threaten you?..." He searches your face, those sharp eyes judging your reaction. You hesitate, because Finn had said if you told Silco he would know and Mia wold suffer. Shit, shit, shit. Maybe being in here right now was not such a good idea. You need to find a way to leave, and soon. 

"No that's not it... Hmmm" he pauses tapping a finger against his lip thoughtfully.  

"The friend, he threatened her" he counters, sharp eyes fixing on you again.  

You try not to react but that in itself apparently gives you away. 

"Ahhhhh... I see, much harder to risk someone else's life. Hmmm silly girl, playing around drunk in the lions den. What did you expect?" He laughs gently and cruelly stubbing out the remains of his cigarette in a polished brass tray. 

"Did he lay a hand on you?" He now asks cooly, his eyes sharpening.  

You pause, the thought of Finns hand around your neck, lifting you slightly off the floor flashes through your minds eye and your shoulders curl just a fraction. He see's it. 

"He did..." Silco's eyes flicker and he looks away for a moment, just jaw tensing, his hand clenching and unclenching.  

"Interesting." The single murmur like ice. 

Not sure what else to do with yourself, you take another absent bite of the sandwich.   

The silence stretches and becomes full of something uncomfortable, you feel ashamed and embarrassed suddenly. You'd gotten drunk, you were way in over your head in a very bad situation, and here he was making you eat to sober up, like a naughty delinquent. He may have been rude and harsh and chiding but the act itself betrayed care.  

  You want to apologize, you want to thank him for the sandwiches but the words won't come.    It happens so quickly, Silco shoots to his feet and strides out, leaving nothing but the swaying curtain in his wake.  

You stare at the curtain till it stops moving as you sit there, utterly alone and bewildered, with a half eaten cucumber sandwich in your hand like an absolute twat.  ----

 — 

Thanks so much for reading Chapter 4! 🔪📖🖤

Thanks for your patience and kind words of encouragement! I know this chapter was slow to update, I rewrote it SO MANY TIMES y'all, so I hope you enjoy it. Seeing a villain crash out while I sit there nibbling on tiny sandwich triangles that he demanded I eat is life goals for me personally goals tbh. Hope you can relate.

<3 Iron

--

VIP AREA @mistershotz @manicmauve @deviantgamergirl @oceansssblue @eeveep1ays @wh1msyk1tten

If I missed anyone, or you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know! <3

Back home, you’re abruptly confronted with everything as you enter the recently repaired front door, closing it behind you. Locking the deadbolt and the slide chain across.    

In that moment you wish there were more locks. 

Leaning back against the door you feel a pang in your chest that rises up into your throat like a painful stone. You rake your fingers up through your hair, a ragged breath escapes you.     Your home was a wreck, the police had left fingerprint dust stuff on walls and moved everything awkwardly. Bringing to reality the stark reminder that someone had broken in, so easily, to your private space and threatened your life.    

You take a few deep breaths. Running your fingers through your hair again and again, not even realising you're doing it.   

You try to push it all down. 

Suddenly gripped by a realisation, you stride across the apartment to pointedly close all the curtains. Silco wasn’t on his balcony, you assumed he had gone to bed. Or maybe he was washing the sheets after your intrusion.  

Oh no, how embarrassing, you hadn’t meant to fall asleep in his bed like that. You hadn’t planned on crying your little heart out till you fell into a deep sleep. If you were being honest, that was the best sleep you'd, had in a long time.   

You sit on the end of your bed, re-hashing your excruciating awkwardness. So what, the man watched you. You encouraged him by parading around In lingerie. So what if you came hard when you noticed he was watching you fuck somebody in your bed.  

You liked it, you like his eyes on you. He called the police for you when you were robbed. He supported you through it, as you cried in his arms. He was actually there for you. He even gave you a place to stay and made you a hot chocolate and sure, it was a little creepy that he knew your name and he said you were his girlfriend but everything else kind of balances that out… right? 

You flop back onto the bed, blowing air out of your mouth and letting your legs hang. 

Am… I the creep? You start to wonder. 

— 

That night you dream the door won’t lock.   

No matter how many chains you slide across or bolts you twist, it won’t hold. 

Someone’s on the other side and you can’t tell if you’re scared… or if you’re hoping it’s him. 

 — 

Over the next few days you wrestle with your behavior, feeling guilty for being rude to the man after violating his privacy. You supposed you had felt entitled to it because he always invaded yours, but… had he? Honestly, all you really needed to do was close the curtains. It was almost less invaded and more invited.  

It was impossible to try and justify your behavior by normal morals or logic, because you were both a little twisted. The rules seemed different between you two. 

You keep the curtains closed. 

 — 

The police call, requesting you come in and identify a lineup of potential suspects involved in your robbery and even though you'd rather walk slowly over hot coals you agree, because it seems like the correct thing to do.     However, a few anxious hours before you’re meant to attend, you get another phone call from the same officer advising that it’s cancelled.     “Don’t come in.” They say, no explanation, no reschedule.    

At first you’re annoyed at the lack of justice and potentially effort from the police but that is quickly replaced by a huge wave of relief.  

 — 

It’s a little over a week before you start to open the blinds up and see Silco again, because it takes you time to slowly ease back into your confidence.    

He gives no indication of annoyance or impatience -you do though. He feels so far away now.  

  You reflect on his words.    

Just you.    

The memory of that moment, his warm breath against your ear, feeling it sink gently down your neck. 

You desperately want more of whatever that was.  

 — 

Feeling inspired, you decide to thank Silco for helping you somehow. Maybe a gift? A token of appreciation? What do you give a wealthy man to say thank you… on a normal human budget?    

Wracking your brain, it takes you a while before you come up with the perfect idea. A small perfume sampler card of your signature scent (sprayed generously in store of course, unwilling to waste your own stock).    

Eventually, after visiting a frustrating number of stores, all over the damn city, you find a place that sells his brand of cigarettes, imported, black with a gold ring around the filter.    

You press your lips to the perfume sampler card, leaving a stained lipstick kiss and write on the back “Thank you Silco xxx" and sign your name.    

You tie the card and cigarette packet together with a luxurious dark red, silk ribbon, matching the deep red shirts he seemed to favor.     You beam down proudly at the final product before carefully packing it into a box and mailing it to his unit.     -and wait.   

 — 

The wind is so cold your fingers feel numb and clumsy through your thin gloves. You can barely see the footpath carrying a large and awkward parcel home from the nearby post office.  

  Regretting agreeing to pick it up for your best friend Mia on short notice. You did owe her though, and you know that she would do the same (and more) for you in a heart beat. That thought eases your frustration slightly. 

You’re only a few blocks from your front door when you hear an unfamiliar male voice laugh behind you. 

“Let me help” 

You open your mouth to protest but you feel the weight is lifted off your hands before you have the chance. You step back around the large bulky parcel to get a look at this mysterious helper.  

He is wearing the most obnoxiously bright yellow tartan suit you have ever seen in your life. More annoyingly, it looks quite good on his lean muscular frame. He’s covered in tattoos, you see them peeking out at his ankles and wrists, they’re also all across his face, he smirks at you and his shocking pale green eyes throw you off centre momentarily.  

“I don’t mean to be rude, drink it in, but it’s fucking freezing, and I‘ve got places to be.” 

You shoot him a half smile and gesture forward with your chin, not taking your eyes off him as you both start walking up the street. You, silently and thoughtfully, taking in this unexpected curiosity.  

“Seems like you don’t actually have time to help” you press as you walk together. 

He huffs a brief laugh and looks at you with an incredulous grin. 

“Honestly, you looked like a more independent type so… I was expecting you’d say no.”  

It was your turn to now to half feign offence while lowkey being actually offended. 

“Here’s fine…-" 

"-Finn” he interjects, catching your eye as he lowers the parcel to the ground. 

“Thank you Finn” your smile follows him as he stands to his full height. You pointedly do not offer your name, even after he gives you an encouraging look.  

“Tch, You’re difficult, … I like that.” He says looking down at you, his gaze seems to deepen with a predatory glint and he cuts a handsome smirk to match it. You hold his gaze, keeping your head high, this man, “Finn” was cocksure, and apparently just obnoxious as his suit. 

“See you round, difficult girl.” He gives you a sharks grin as he turns away up the street. 

You watch him go, unsure what to think, but also to make sure he doesn't see which building is yours before you pick the parcel up, cross the road and go into your apartment. 

 — 

Reading, on your couch, a small flicker of light out of the corner of your eye lets you know Silco is home and has moved onto the balcony to smoke. Possibly enjoying his small but hopefully meaningful gift.   

You turn slightly in his direction to smile warmly at his half lit outline for a moment before turning back to your reading, as one might greet a dear friend.  

His presence was a soothing balm, comforting after a long day at work. After some time, you found your thoughts drifting to how you clung to his warmth and how his fingers traced soothing patterns on your back to calm you. His expensive high end apartment with the marble countertop and large bathroom. His smell, his delicious hot chocolate, his warm whisper in your ear.  

You absently trace your thumb over your lip. You want more of him, but you’re not sure how, or why or… if you should?  

You flick your eyes towards him without turning your head. The curtains are drawn and he has retreated. Your heart sinks at the realization that he’s no longer watching, he’s not with you.  

You’re very much alone. 

Maybe it would be better to have a normal healthy relationship… or at least let off some steam.  

One of your friends, Mia, had been trying to get you to come out to something, anything… you decide in that moment to take her up on it and message her. 

YOU: "When are you coming to pick up this massive fucking parcel?" 

She replies quickly. 

MIA: "Awww are you missing me? Haha I can come grab it tonight! After work, Oooooh also, I have news!" 

You pause at that last line, that was never a good sign, it usually meant you were about to be dragged into something. 

You walk to the cupboard and pull out two wine glasses and a bottle in preparation. You had to admit though, her schemes were never boring and you catch yourself smiling.  

Before you sit down you pull the curtains closed.  

 — 

You don't have to wait long before you hear footsteps at your door, a key fumble in the lock awkwardly for a moment followed by the crash of a heavy keyring falling loudly to the floor and familiar cursing. 

You laugh and go to the door, opening it as an act of mercy. 

"How have you made it this far in life?" You ask at the grinning woman sheepishly clutching a set of keys covered way too many novelty keyrings. 

"There she is!" She says throwing her arms around you enthusiastically giving you a tight squeeze. "My favourite door opening, parcel receiving, goddess!" 

You snort a laugh and close the door behind her, locking the dead bolt and slide bolt in place as well as the new extra lock you had installed.     Mia glances at you over her shoulder for just one second before doing a little twirl into the room, towards the couch and pulling another bottle of wine out. 

"I come bearing tribute!" She says dramatically, bowing as she places it on the table, your traditional festive grounds. 

She flings off her large bright coat, tossing it over the back of one of a stool revealing a stylish bright ensemble with large earrings. She always looks amazing. 

You pour two glasses of wine before tilting your head to the package.  

"So what is it? Besides heavy?" You ask. 

She stomps her heels on the ground rapidly in excitement.    

"It's my wheel!" She says her eyes lighting up. 

"Like... a pottery wheel?" You ask. 

"Uh yeah, a pottery wheel! I'm sick of paying for classes like a peasant. I want to be at home with myself in the zone with that stupid song playing. Ohhhhhh myyyy looovvveeee…"  

You grin as you take another sip and she shows you photos on her phone of some of the things she has made. Some are bent and awkward but you can see as she progresses through the album her improvement, some of them are starting to look really good.  

"Damn, some of these actually look great." You admit smiling.  

She falls back on the couch smirking. "I'm full of surprises babe."   

"I'm gonna make vessels and talismans, maybe even urns, you know, for dogs or something."   

You giggle at the idea, joining her on the couch.     It's not long before both of you kick your shoes off and slump into lazy comfort with your feet lined up resting on the coffee table. Talking playfully and laughing a little too loudly, but in the best way. 

Suddenly Mia's spine stiffens and she looks at you like she just remembered something scandalous. 

"Ooooh that's right, my news!" She exclaims. 

"Don't make that face" she chastises you gently, slapping your thigh. "You'll love this!"    

Mia wiggles herself forward to lean in closer to you, conspiratorially.   

“So, get this—I met this guy. Tall, tattoos, gorgeous in a very bad idea kind of way.”   

You try to feign parental concern without smiling. “Oooh nooo.”   

“Ooooh yes,” she grins. “He came into the gallery looking like trouble in a yellow suit, asked all the right questions, bought two paintings, and might have invited me to a fancy charity ball.”   

You choke on your wine. “Wait—what?”   

Mia shrugs, way too casual. “It’s this weekend. Super posh. He said I could bring a friend.” She points at you. “You. Obviously.”   

You blink at her. “You want me to go to a rich people gala with a man you just met in a banana suit?”   

“He’s hot! And charming! And rich! And it’s for charity. Plus, he already arranged a dress fitting. Free couture, babe. Couture.”   

You stare at her, uncertain. Part of you wants to laugh, the other part wants to scream. But Mia’s looking at you with those big, hopeful eyes, practically vibrating with excitement.   

“…You in?” she tempts.   

You sigh, long and dramatic. “If we end up murdered, it's on you.”   

Mia squeals and launches at you with a hug. “We are gonna be iconic!    -- 

Watering your plants on the balcony, you glance up to see Silco’s not there—the large, empty glass windows of his apartment still and silent. The sun is high in the sky, so this isn’t unusual. You usually only saw him from dusk till dawn, maybe only a handful of times in daylight. 

Standing barefoot in the bright, natural light, tending to your plants, all of that feels far away. You enjoy this quiet moment with nobody watching, alone, but not lonely. 

The smell of damp soil and the weight of the watering can, sloshing gently with your movements, ground you. 

You hum a song to yourself as you move from plant to plant, enjoying the warmth. 

  -- 

The espresso machine hisses like a warning, sharp and sudden, not quite drowned out by the ambient music of the cafe.  

You'd promised yourself you'd take an actual break but for some reason you were still reading work emails on your company laptop. 

You don't notice him until the air shifts, something feels off, like pressure changing before a storm. Then the chair scrapes.   

"Relax" he says calmly sitting down opposite you. "I won't stay long"     You look up at him, eyes wide in surprise, your mouth half open. 

"Silco." You say dumbly, watching as he draws a card out of his pocket and places it in the middle of the table between you. 

"Your handwriting is terrible" he says. "But your perfume's better than I expected.” 

You stare at the card, then up at him.   

"You got it" you exhale. 

"I did" he replies, picking the card back up. Your eyes linger as you notice him brushing his thumb gently over it once before tucking it away into the breast pocket of his coat. "And I meant to thank you properly, after all it was a bold gesture." 

You freeze, like a deer in the headlights. Flustered and proud and nervous all at once. 

He leans in slightly, as if feasting, his eyes watching yours with exquisite precision. Always so intense. 

Your lips part slowly to say something. 

"-Do you know who I am." His question throws you off completely. 

You stumble for a moment, brows furrowing."... I mean sort of? You're my... Neighbour and... I know your name?"  

He nods towards your laptop. 

"Open a new browser." 

You do so, looking up at him. 

"Now type in my name." 

You raise an eyebrow at this but comply, the five keys clattering gently. 

The search loads instantly. 

Silco, Zaun Industries CEO wanted for questioning in relation to the disappearance- Industrialist allegedly linked to underground crime- Arson attack- Crime and corruption in- Undercity Kingpin -  several bodies found branded with the Eye of Zaun- Politicians revealed to have dealings with- police found no evidence- on and on 

Hundreds, no thousands of articles, boardroom photos, headlines, grainy security footage.  

All of it, him. 

Him. 

Your breath falters as you take all of this in. Before slowly looking up at him. 

"This is you" you say. 

"It is." He says, cold, unapologetic, honest. 

"I thought you were just... rich" you admit. 

He raises one eyebrow, mildly amused. "I am." 

"I mean like, eccentric, quiet, controlling rich... I didn't think-" 

"-That I was dangerous?" 

You fall silent at this. The words hit like a truck. 

He reaches over and takes a sip of your coffee, like it's a test, or a claim. 

You search his face, desperately clinging to the man you thought you knew. As if familiarity will ground you. 

"Why tell me this?" You ask. 

"I don't want you to remain ignorant." He says softly this time. 

A moment passes and your mind is racing, trying to make sense of all of this. "So what... Is this a threat?"  

"If I were threatening you" he says, eyes meeting yours.  "You'd feel it." 

You believe him. 

Your brows furrow deeper. "So why now? ... Why are you telling me this now?" 

He looks at you, considering for a long moment. As though he's deciding if you should know the truth- or something else. 

"You sent me a gift." He explains slowly. "You put something of yourself into it, thoughtfully and freely." 

A pause. 

"And you deserve to know what you gave it to."  

You blink at this. 

"I didn't know it was like that." You admit. 

"I know." He says, eyes flicking back up to yours. 

Silco leans back in his chair, relaxed. Calmly assessing your reactions, witnessing your thoughts. He takes another sip of your coffee, setting it down neatly. 

You close your laptop screen slowly and rake your fingers through your hair. "I don't know what to do with this." You confess. 

"You don't need to do anything." He says pausing. "Not yet."    Something about the way he says the last part makes your stomach drop. 

You narrow your eyes at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

Silco stands and tucks his chair in, the legs scrape softly against the tile. 

He adjusts his coat, and taps the breast pocket he had tucked your gift into, looking down at you. 

“You handed me a piece of yourself, and I accepted it.”  

A smile curls his lips. 

“That part of you belongs to me now... and it won't be returned.” 

He turns, walking toward the door. Calm, unhurried. No drama. No threat in his stride.    “You should’ve known better than to offer something you couldn’t afford to lose.”  

Just before the exit, he glances back at you smirking, like he already knows how this ends. 

And then he's gone. 

-- 

"And you deserve to know what you gave it to." 

That night you keep the curtains closed, sore eyes staring at the cold glass in front of you. On the screen is yet another news article. The screen is paused on the image of Silco. His face set firm, uncompromising. Two large bodyguards stand either side of him.     You blow a loose strand of hair out of your face and allow yourself to relax, sinking into the couch behind you. The muscles in your back easing after hours of tension.    For hours now, you had been researching him trying to make it sink in that this is the truth, the reality of your situation. Reading and reading until you can't anymore. You have to accept it, it seems impossible, but this is the man who you let watch, let him see so much of yourself.   “That part of you belongs to me now... and it won't be returned.” 

The man was so much worse than you could ever imagined. In every way. 

Dangerous, powerful, violent and you pranced around in your underwear for him and sent him tokens of affection. 

You drop your face into your hands. 

But you meant it. The man you knew, before you knew that, he was still the same man. Just ... significantly worse and most likely dangerous to be near.  

You sigh deeply. How the fuck did you get yourself so tangled up in this? 

And even after everything, why do you still think about how he held you that night.    “You should’ve known better than to offer something you couldn’t afford to lose.”  

You curl up tightly into a ball, like you can fold yourself away from it all, and you cry.  -- Thanks so much for reading Chapter 2! 🔪📖🖤 I have been really enjoying writing this so I hope you dig it! If you're comfy doing so, please let me know what you think! : ) Super curious to know what YOU want to happen? Or what you want to see more of or know more about?

I can promise you, shit is about to get WILD next chapter, I hope you're ready. <3 Iron

PS - If you’d like to be added to the taglist for “The Descent” let me know!✨

--

>>>Continue on to Chapter three

—

The next morning your phone vibrates loudly on your bedside and you fumble for it, body still heavy with sleep. Squinting at the bright screen, trying to focus your sore and blurry eyes, one new message. 

MIA: "See you in thirty minutes, you better be ready for the ball tonight biiiiiiitch, time to go pick up our COURTURE!!!✨"   

"Shit" you rasp and stumble, half tripping, towards the shower, rushing to get ready. 

 — 

“Okay” Mia says practically vibrating with excitement. “I think I’m ready”.     You’d both been standing at the front door for about five minutes while Mia emotionally prepared herself to enter.   

Mia places her hand on the brushed steel handle and blows a breath out. You place your hand on hers, look into her eyes and nod, pushing the door open together.    

“Welcome, welcome.... finally” A stout fussy man with half moon spectacles and an accent approaches looking you both up and down. 

“You two are here for a dress fitting, yes?” You and Mia nod in unison, Mia produces a card and hands it over.  

“Very well” He nods handing it back. “Follow me.” 

Mia grins wide at you shrugging her shoulders up in delight as you both follow after him. You notice that he walks in an unusual way, lots of rapid smaller steps rather than normal strides. It gave him a cartoonish effect as he glides around the room. 

“Mia is who?” He says suddenly, turning to see the response.  

Mia raises her hand. 

“Mia talks yes?” He presses.  

Mia nods, then immediately realises her mistake and laughs “Sorry yes, I’m just, SO excited to be here, this is one of my favourite designers.”  

The man is seemingly disarmed by her honesty and genuine excitement. His shoulders soften and he smiles at her.    

“I am Reynard” he says warmly. “It is lovely to meet you, and you are going to look, STUNNING, I assure you.” Mia smiles wide and makes an excited gesture as Reynard pulls two dresses from a closed rack and hangs them up before you both for display.    "These are the dresses that were specifically commissioned for you from our atelier. You can thank him for the colour palette though" he adds with a hint of distaste. "He was very insistent."    Reynard fixes the hem so the black silk material sits correctly and stands back to let you both drink them in.    The dress in front of you is a sleek black silk gown with a twisting yellow flourish over the hip. It’s bold, refined and unexpectedly beautiful.     You cast a glance over to see Mia's dress is similar, also black and yellow silk, but hers has much more yellow, the design slithers further up her body. She is looking at her dress like a kid presented with infinite candy. 

“Please, follow Artemis" Reynard says to Mia, ushering her towards a nearby female staff member. "She will assist you to the change room darling.”     Mia thanks Reynard before following Artemis up the hall, giving you another signature big smile over her shoulder before she slips out of view.    You turn back to your dress, gentle smile on your lips. It's not a dress you would ever choose for yourself, but it's beautiful, custom, couture. You’ve never had anything like this. 

“As for you, follow me, thank god you both have such a beautiful skin tone to compliment the colour pallet, I won’t lie I was concerned.” He says waving a hand as he talked as if to wave away the stress of it all. 

 — 

“Hair and makeup included? We’re basically celebrities,” Mia squeals as you both climb into the dark and moodily lit limousine.     “I feel like a fucking PRINCESS” She says punching the air with energetic glee.   

“Me too” you admit smiling wide, climbing in after her as the driver shut the door behind you.    

It felt indulgent, pampered, dressed to kill, and gliding off in a limo to a literal Ball. You feel so lucky right now as you run your hands over the seats, a rich buttery soft leather. It even smelled expensive.   

The small privacy screen at the front end of the limo lowers slightly revealing the driver. “Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I forgot to mention, there’s champagne in the side bar, as well as a few other drinks if you open that fridge there, please make yourselves comfortable, we should arrive in about fifteen minutes”.    

“Thank you!” You both chirp gleefully in unison, making the driver chuckle as the screen goes back up.   

Mia swiftly cracks open the tiny fridge, assessing her options.     “If we get murdered after this, so be it. Worth it,”  She pulls out two drinks and hands you one she knows you will like.  

You smile and accept it, twisting off the lid. “Speak for yourself.” you clink your glasses together. "I'll kick your corpse under some bushes though." You add, receiving a playful thigh smack for it. 

The engine vibration pauses as the car stops again. You shuffle towards the door, assuming you had arrived at the venue but Mia pulls you back.  

“We’re picking up the guys.” She explains. “They’re funny, you’re gonna love them.”  

The door opens. A first man enters dressed in smart black, he introduces himself warmly as Wes, while the second climbs in, wearing a bright yellow and black custom ensemble that somehow looks tasteful and stylish as hell.    

Your eyes lock and recognition sinks in. That’s the guy—the one in the ridiculous tartan suit who helped you carry Mia’s pottery wheel.   

“Difficult girl?” Finn asks with a curious smirk.   

Mia looks between you both wide eyed. “No way!”   

“He helped me with your mystery box from the post office.” You explain.   

“And she was soooo grateful” Finn teases while reaching towards the small bar fridge and selecting a beer for Wes and himself. The two cans hiss as they're opened.    “To unexpected surprises” Finn toasts before turning towards you and Mia. 

“-and to you both, thanks for joining me tonight. You look perfect.” He smiles at you, with a look that lingers a little too long.    “Thank you, I try” the stony faced Wes says softly pretending to tuck hair behind his ear and turning towards Finn. His eyes gaze lovingly, hand over his heart. Finn freezes for a moment perplexed. 

You all burst into laughter at this and clink your glasses together. 

 —   

Wes and Mia climb out of the Limo before you. 

Then Finn exits to assist you. You hesitate for a moment, looking at his outstretched hand. He's kind of a dick but thinking of your heels, and the logistics of manoeuvring out of a vehicle elegantly in your dress you decide to take it, placing yours in his and letting him help you. His hand is warm and slightly rough against your own. His pale green eyes sink into yours for a moment appreciatively, before he offers you his arm. Also warm and for some reason that annoys you. 

Behind him is a huge, white stone staircase, draped in a red carpet, leading into a giant, beautiful old money mansion. Vines scramble up the huge stone blocks. You don't even really get a chance to drink it all in before you ascend the stairs together.   

Flashes go off all around as photographers take photos. Finn steers and guides you to turn and smile a few times his hand on the small of your back. Normally you would find this off-putting or uncomfortable but right now, you feel so beautiful and confident that it doesn’t bother you at all.   “You did great” Finn says giving you a wink as you reach the top of the stairs. You smile because you know you did, effortlessly for once, and it feels good. 

“Mister Finn” one of the door people greets him and yourself.   

You can hear music now, drifting out from within. Finn leads you inside, the building is some kind of historical grand estate, the kind of thing you’d only ever seen in period films. Tall ceilings, marble lined walls, fresh cut flowers everywhere, waiters with little trays of mysterious bright foodstuffs and grand guests regally dressed in beautiful clothing.  

“This is amazing” you say, slightly overwhelmed.  

Turning a corner toward a giant mirror lined wall. Looking at your reflection, you and Finn make a handsome pair. The yellow of your dress compliments his suit perfectly.  

The dress he had selected for you. Something about that feels incredibly uncomfortable but you can't quite place it.  

This obnoxious yellow should make someone look terrible but you both look good. Really good, expensive good, like runway models, magazine good.    

Finn looks down at you gazing into the mirror and smirks, “We can admire ourselves later” he says gently and leads you up into the main ballroom. 

You’d seen ballrooms in movies before, fantastical, grand, almost unbelievable. But nothing prepared you for this. Standing on the balcony, staring out over a sea of glittering dresses, tailored suits, and champagne laughter. it all hits you suddenly like vertigo. It wasn’t just beautiful. It was overwhelming. A cathedral of excess. The chandeliers alone looked heavy enough to crush a car, suspended like silent gods far above. 

“Ahhhh Finnnn!” A loud booming male voice approaches taking Finn's hand he nods and grabs him by the bicep with his other hand. “Good to see you my friend! Ahhhh and who is this beautiful creature on your arm? Hmm?” Finn shakes the man’s hand and introduces you. 

“Ahhhhh a beautiful name!” The man booms, taking your hand and kissing the back of it gently. “I will catch up with you later, I’m very interested to negotiate on that offer, but later. Please, go, enjoy the night!” he finishes by slapping Finn on the back twice. 

"Finn hello darling" a raspy voice belonging to an older woman sweeps in, Finn greets her politely, but being on his arm, you feel him tense up just a fraction.  

  “We’ll need to review the matter of our shared port arrangements soon. There’s been some... unexpected congestion.” She says it all with a soft smile that doesn’t reach her cold eyes before adding.  “I’d hate to think you're letting the embargo become a reason to disengage.” 

"Lady Celeste, I'll make some time-" Finn starts before she cuts him off.    "Tonight, wonderful. It's settled darling. So glad you agree." She's already turned her back on your both, waving a gloved hand as she leaves.  

For just a moment, Finn looks tired. 

You glance at him out the corner of your eye, but he doesn’t return it, eyes fixed on a new person approaching. A man with short cropped hair wearing a brown suit, looking wealthy but dull. He shakes Finn's hand, you miss his name as Finn introduces you. Too busy mentally planning an exit strategy. 

“You look remarkable tonight miss.” He says, looking at you with intense sincerity, and something else you cant place, but don’t like. He’s holding your hand just a little bit too long, enough to make you feel unsettled. You gently and carefully try to pull it away from him, so as not to be rude or make a scene, but his fingers lock firmly around your wrist, your arm wavers slightly with the strain of your pulling. Finn notices. 

“Hands off the merchandise” Finn warns playfully, but firmly, he steps forward slightly between you and his eyes sharpen. A carefully disguised threat.  

It's effective, the message is received and the spell breaks, creepy guy breaks eye contact with you finally, letting your wrist go and backs off into the crowd mumbling an apology. You move slightly closer to Fin, grateful for the buffer. 

“Some people truly have no manners at all.” Tuts another man who had evidently been watching nearby. This one is tall, thin, holding a drink, white suit, a little too clean, hair swept back and greying at the temples slightly, he looks sharp.  

“Are you alright miss?” He asks looking at you with apparent concern. “I assure you that behaviour is not in the majority.” He speaks in a strange way, like he’s always in on the joke. 

“Lucian Vale.” Finn says, his smile going cold.  

“Enjoying the ball?” He asks turning to you. “Or just surviving so far?”  

You hesitate, his words cut so unexpectedly. You wonder if you had really been keeping a polite smile on your face like you thought you were. 

He smiles softly, as if you reaction says enough before he continues. 

“You make a handsome couple. That colour isn’t for everyone, but you’re wearing it well.” 

“Lucian, be careful ,that almost sounded like a compliment” Finn's voice is low, he smiles, tilting his head slightly.  

“You know I heard that someone is being auctioned off tonight” he pauses to sip his drink. “For charity you know, dinner with a celebrity or something I think? I’m not entirely sure, I didn’t quite catch the why.” 

Finn grins at him, wider now. Impatient maybe. 

“Must have missed that in the program.” 

“Mmm shame.” Lucian finishes the last of his drink. “Would have been quite the prize.” He places his empty glass on a passing waiters tray. “Enjoy the night.” He bows slightly before he strolls away, unhurried. 

  It seemed like you could barely go five steps without Finn having to stop and talk to someone briefly and introduce you. Some were polite, others rude, they looked at you in an unsettling way as if measuring your worth. It was awful, you couldn't imagine living like this. 

Luckily there was a lot to look at to entertain yourself, but still. It was exhausting, they were all weird and wealthy. Speaking in riddles and business jargon and you were dying to look around more. You stayed with this for as long as you could tolerate (which to your credit was probably a solid ten or fifteen minutes). Once the current visitor was finished their greeting dance you squeezed Finn's arm.  

“Would it be alright if I take a walk and look around?, I’m a bit greeting'sd out.” You confess. 

Finn laughs and pats your arm and untangling his from yours. “I can imagine it’s a lot.” He raises his arm and lifts two fingers, immediately two men in suits seemingly fade into the foreground, “Don’t let her get into trouble.” He says to the two men who nod and step backwards.    

You feel concerned for a moment, thoughts rushing through your mind; Who is this guy? Is this a security team? Why would he need that? Why would he need that here? Have I been reading too much crime stuff researching Silco? Is this just a rich people thing? 

“Is that necessary?” You ask. He just winks at you and turns away, barely getting five steps before starting yet another conversation. You decide to let it go before you get drawn back into Finn's cursed greeting ritual orbit.  

Making your way down the stairs you’re relieved to spot Mia and Wes by the bar. Mia waves you over enthusiastically when she sees you approaching. 

“You have got to try this grapefruit thing” She says pushing a drink into your hand.  

”Gladly” you say taking a drink. Damn, that was dangerously good. 

“How many people did you have to say hello to just then.” Mia laughs “That was crazy! I watched the will to live slowly drain out of your eyes with each one”  

You nod taking another sip “It was A LOT.”  

“It is important for business to be seen at these events" Wes explains, not unkindly. "To network and pay respects. This is not a fun relaxing time for him, he’s working tonight.”  

You nod and the feel a bit bad for a moment, was it ungrateful of you to abandon him? 

Wes catches your eye, as if recognising you train of thought.  

“I can’t stand it either.” He confesses. “A lot of words, but nothing useful or meaningful is said.” 

“I mean, I like to talk a lot of shit myself but that looked like a whole other level” Mia muses, almost curious. 

You nod and take another swig, it’s so good. "Maybe you missed your calling Mia." You tease.     "Oh I could do this." She grins with confidence. "People love me." 

  --   

You stay and chat with Mia and Wes for a while, laughing and enjoying a few more salted grapefruit cocktails before nature calls and you excuse yourself to the bathroom. 

Of course the bathroom is grand and magnificent and there’s huge bouquets of fresh cut flowers either side of the handwashing basins. You decide they probably just look good but no, they also smell glorious.     You check yourself in the mirror, touching up your lipstick. Feeling slightly tipsy always makes the bathroom mirror experience fun. Tucking the lipstick back into your clutch you give yourself a wink and pretend to shoot the mirror a few times before holstering your finger guns and walking back out, into the party.  

You walk confidently, intending to go back to Mia and Wes. Somehow you get turned around though, (probably because you have the navigational awareness of a baking dish) and now you’re in some random hallway of rooms totally lost.   

You look around for the two suited guys Finn summoned earlier but you can’t see them. 

A door clicks then- 

“Beat it wasp girl, this hallway’s off limits” Comes a stern female voice from behind you. 

“Wasp girl!?” you laugh turning to see who this comedian is, coming face to face with a tall, impressively muscular woman, in a dark suit. Her cold grey eyes looking down at you. 

  There’s not a single trace of humour in her expression. 

“Tetrad aren't welcome here" she growls, her top lip curling into an aggressive sneer. 

“Huh?” is all you can manage, because this woman is insanely intimidating. Her eyes and nostrils flare as she slowly crosses her arms with the air of someone giving an idiot one final chance. 

“Okay, okay, I'm going.” you say raising your hands in surrender and stepping backwards for a few steps before cautiously turning, maintaining eye contact and making your way back up the hall. She watches like a hawk until you’re out of sight. 

What the hell is a Tetrad? What was this place hiding? These wealthy people must have some secrets to go to such lengths. 

Following the music leads you back to the main ballroom, where you run into Finn again, both of you easy to spot in the crowd wearing his signature vibrant yellow. It really did seem to paint you as his, the passing thought snags and makes you feel itchy, so you push it down.  

He smiles widely when he sees you again and offers his arm which you take.  

“Having fun difficult girl?” He asks walking with you down the stairs to the main ballroom floor.  

A shiver shoots down your back suddenly but you shake it off. 

“Clearly more than you.” You say smirking.  

He barks out a laugh at this, the most genuine one you’d heard from him so far. 

A waiter passes with a tray of champagne glasses and Finn grabs two, passing one to you. 

“Thank you” you smile appreciatively at him. 

You’re not sure if it’s all the drinks going to your head but the vibe of the party subtly shifts, maybe it was a new song played by the band? You can’t quite put your finger on it.  

The air feels still, thick, a knot deep in your chest tightens. 

You're almost at the bottom of the staircase laughing politely at some stupid joke made by Finn when you hear- 

“Ah Finn, so glad you could make it.” 

Time seems to slow down, the recognition hits you, like ice water down your spine.  

You know that voice.  

As you turn the room feels silent and empty around you. 

Standing at the base of the staircase, perfectly composed. 

Silco.  

He looks lethally handsome in full ballroom attire, all clean sharp lines. 

His eyes sharper still.  

He is calm, he is dressed like royalty and he’s looking directly at you with burning attention.  

“Silco, of course, I would never miss one of your events” Finn says with a smile like dry ice before proudly introducing you.    

Silco’s expression doesn’t change but it’s as if something behind his eyes flinches.   

“You look….” He says to you, “Like somebody is trying to make a statement.”  

Your heart stumbles. 

Finn chuffs. “Aren’t we all?.” Finn says gesturing around at the grand hall with a smirk.  

Silco’s eyes bore into yours.  

“The Ball is beautiful” you manage, reaching for polite nothings in the face of this emotional annihilation. 

“No need to flatter the host” Finn chides playfully as if he doesn't notice the tension. “This man already has it all” 

Silco glances to Finn for the first time briefly.  

“Almost”     The word cuts like a promise wrapped in threat. 

Silco turns back to you with a steady unreadable gaze that makes your skin feel tight. It was as if he exuded a hunger so strong that it took ghostly form to envelope you, possess you. Your heart was in your throat with the burning intensity of him.  

“Thanks, for the entertainment.” Finn says tugging your arm gently to lead you away into the crowd. 

Unable to resist, you look back over your shoulder at Silco, standing still, his eyes locked on yours like a vow.     It's in that moment you notice his lapel pin, an intricately folded, deep red, silk ribbon. Your ribbon. 

It sits there, delicate and deliberate.  Folded like a ritual, worn like a secret only you would understand.  Or a threat only you would recognize.  

The crowd swallows you. 

After a few moments you blink, taking a deep shuddering breath, you're trembling.   

 — 

Thanks so much for reading Chapter 3! 🔪📖🖤

This was a MASSIVE change of pace, but it’s going somewhere, so I hope you dig it!

We are really just starting to take the first steps of our descent; it's all going down from here.

<3 Iron

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If I missed anyone, or you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know! <3

>>>Chapter Four

chapter three point five

The staircase

Silco posts himself patiently at the bottom of the staircase, to intercept, an ambush predator. All with the specific intent to see her reaction. The one he anticipates will shatter through her when she finally sees him, entirely unexpected, standing before her. 

He clocks her shiver at the top of the staircase, her eyes darting around for the source. She feels his eyes on her, his presence like a magnetic field, even if she doesn't realise what the feeling is. She is tangled, intertwined in him, tethered on an intangible level. His claws already sunken into her soft flesh. 

He waits for the perfect moment to spring the trap, just as they are getting close enough he speaks. 

“Ah Finn, so glad you could make it.” 

Silco’s voice hits her whole body, forcing her eyes to violently crash on his like an emergency landing. 

It’s so painfully complex and deliciously exquisite. Her eyes flash wide through shock, fear, softening into shame, he sees the hurt, he relishes her regret, the spark of hope and then lastly want.  

They all flicker across her face, raw and pure, like lightning illuminating truth on a stormy night. Natural, powerful and free. 

And it’s his, she lets him see it all. Pure, unfiltered and precious, a gift that he greedily accepts. It nourishes him and he devours it all, every last drop she will give him. 

He is her constant witness and he administers that role with dutiful reverence and religious significance. His commitment to her is entirely unquestionable. 

And yet… here she is, on Finn's arm. Boldly wearing the Yellow of Finn's Tetrad syndicate. Worse still, she probably doesn’t even know what it means. Probably doesn't know that Finn is an ambitious subordinate in his empire, using her like a puppet, dangling her in front of him just to taunt him. An unrefined and barbaric power play. Effective nonetheless, but not in the way Finn thinks, a lethal miscalculation. 

Finn is saying something but Silco doesn’t bother to listen. Finn's ignorant, filthy hands don't deserve to touch her. Silco wants to break every single one of Finn's fingers, slowly. 

She shouldn't be here. 

“You look” Silco says to her coldly. “Like somebody is trying to make a statement.” 

He knows it's not her fault, but he punishes her for it anyway. He warned her what he was, and she still let herself be used against him, intentional or not. He had hoped she'd be smarter than this, but his disappointment is tempered by the thought of all the hard earned lessons still to come. 

So beautiful. The hurt, the rippling anguish that rises briefly before she stifles it. Her pain is such an elegant consequence. 

“The ball is beautiful” she says. Meaningless, but an attempt nonetheless and more importantly, she didn’t crumble. He feels a lick of pride for her but won't show it. Maintaining his expression; ice cold and neutral.  

“No need to flatter the host; This man already has it all” Finn's words worm under Silco’s skin, who now cuts a sharp warning glance at Finn, looking at him for the first time.  

“Almost” Silco makes sure Finn feels that one word land, like a poisoned blade. Loaded and dripping with thinly veiled contempt. It’s more than a threat, more certain, it’s a promise.  

Finn doesn’t know it yet, but he’s living on borrowed time. 

“Thanks for the entertainment.” Finn says with unwarranted smugness before turning away, thinking himself triumphant and tugging her arm gently. Silco makes a mental note that it’s Finn's right hand, tucking that little fact neatly away for a later date.  

She lets Finn whisk her away and Silco allows it to happen. Let tonight be a valuable learning opportunity about the reality of his world. He can be patient, he reminds himself. Everything will come together soon enough. He watches her back as she is led away, looking like an obedient dog on a yellow leash. The sight grates on him, more than he cares to admit. 

Then, she does something unexpected.  

She looks back over her shoulder at him, and it grips his heart like a vice. Those eyes lit with something raw and confused and so painfully, achingly real. Something between longing and regret and the truth of it shatters something deep within in him. 

His conviction so certain just seconds ago almost falters and internally he has to fight tooth and claw to maintain his composure, his unaffected demeanour.  

Her eyes fall from his catching on the scarlet silk ribbon pinned to his lapel and they widen in recognition, her eyebrows rise, her lips parting slightly as if her breath has stilled. 

Her gift. 

The part of herself she gave to him, and he never gave back. A token of his claim and he wears it like a trophy, pinned to his heart because he accepts it. He accepts her, all of her, entirely, completely. As far as he is concerned, she's already his and this sacred exchange is an intimate, whispered confession. 

He loses sight of her as she disappears, swallowed by the crowd he momentarily had forgotten surrounded them.  

He lingers a moment, in the sunset of her exit, before he turns away. 

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Hope y'all enjoy him being him.

The grand meeting room where he had threatened the chembarrons with his ornate little box of filled with noxious gas. It had been a small oversight to discover in the aftermath that it had withered every plant in the room.

He knew how much you loved that garden, it was your pride and joy and he had slaughtered it in so few moments to posture over subhuman scum. It was too late by the time he realised what he had done. How as the plants shrivelled and died, so with them had any hope of his affections for you ever being returned.

Standing there now in the empty room, arms behind his back, he observes how you'd removed all the death, how new soil now lay in all the garden beds. It must have been an immense job.

His brow knits as he frowns at the unfortunate mess of the situation. There would be no remedying it now.

He hears a thump behind him and turns to see you there in the doorway, a plant dropped at your feet.

Your mouth drops open in shock, eyes wide for a split second before they narrow and all the fires of hell fill them.

"How dare you show your face back here." The venom in your impulsive words could kill ten men.

Silco turns fully towards you, his expression carefully set to considering neutrality.

"Just because you own this garden doesn't give you the RIGHT to slaughter it!" You take a step forward over the dropped plant towards him.

"Some of those carnivorous flowers were the LAST specimens of their kind. They were HUNDREDS of years old." Tears of rage start to line your eyes as you continue pointing an accusing finger at him. The smart part of your brain is begging you to stop but you’re far to angry to listen.

"You should leave" you’re choked up now, hating how your voice quavers as you look up at him.

In that moment his heart aches for you, wishing you would smile or say something kind instead. But the hateful rage in your eyes reminds him that he is a monster. He remembers what he had become, what he had sacrificed of himself for Zaun. He allows the darkness inside himself to bloom in his chest, curling protectively around the pain.

He exhales through his nose, nostrils flaring with his distaste.

"I will not leave my Cultivair." He says coldly, steeling his gaze to fix on your own and striding forward with terrifying purpose.

"If you continue to speak to me like this." He lunges forward and grabs your face so quickly, leaning down over you like an eagle swooping down on a rabbit.

"I'll bury you in that garden bed, so your bones feed the plants you so love." He growls into your ear.

If you wont love him, fear and hate are as close as can be, he decides.

You squirm, disgusted by his very touch. Silco smirks devilishly at the feeling of your warmth pressed against him.

"Let me go Silco" you whisper through gritted teeth. Skin crawling at the lingering threat of his body pressed to your own.

He withdraws slowly, unwrapping his long limbs from around you.

Taking a measured step back you turn to pick up the plant that you had dropped, grateful the roots were bound with damp heshen and that it was a hardy specimen. You clutch it to your chest and turn back to face the awful creature before you.

Silco watches you slowly turn with the lovely green plant in your arms. You're so beautiful, so gentle and caring in your work. The feelings it divulges twist and roil inside him, the only external tell is a single deep breath.

"Why did you come?" You ask, trying to hide behind some semblance of professionalism after your shock induced seething rage had spilled forth.

"I'd like a small garden with a pond in the office." He proclaims, slipping easily into the flow of business. "I need somebody to design, build and plant it for me."

You rush to cut him off.

"Bryta is skilled in garden design, I'll send her over at once." You say confidently.

He snorts a cruel half laugh shaking his head. It’s a cute attempt to distance yourself but he won’t be having it.

"I don't want Bryta, She is not the head botanist."

Your heart sinks as you realise you won't be able to get out of this.

"No, no, petal. I want my head botanist herself to make me the best garden money can buy. No expenses spared. You can plant, whatever you like."

You look up suspiciously but you have to admit you're lured in by his generous offer. It was a dream job, despite being promised to you by the devil at the crossroads.

"Help fund the purchase of plants to replace your mess too." You dare to demand. Forcing yourself to stand straight and eyeball him.

He holds your eyes for a beat, glaring at you. You barely notice you’re not breathing.

"All you need do is ask." He says before turning on his heel and sauntering out of the room.

"I expect to see you tomorrow" he calls from the hallway and you suddenly remember to breathe. Pinching the bridge of your nose you move the plant to rest on your hip.

You could not despise him more.

--

✨ Thank you for reading ✨

Tag list: @angxlictexrs