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Author’s POV

Ivy Hart was desperate now.

Two weeks without Blackwood protection, and her savings were bleeding dry. Each rejected job application pushed her to lower her salary expectations even further. Finally, so tiny no-na studio had agreed to take her in—as a damn assistant.

Her. A forr designer.

The humiliation burned in her stomach as she shuffled papers and made coffee like so glorified intern. Two and a half days into this miserable job, and she was already dragging her feet. How had she fallen this far? From being Ryan’s darling to this?

"Ivy, there’s a dinner eting tonight. Clean yourself up and join us," her sleazy boss announced, eyeing her like she was rchandise.

"Not going," she snapped, lifting her chin with defiance.

He laughed. Laughed in her face.

"Then pack your things and don’t co back tomorrow. I don’t pay for deadweight around here."

Her heart sank, reality crashing down on her shoulders. She had no other options. After a beat, she gave a reluctant nod.

"That’s more like it," he smirked, his gaze crawling over her figure. "Wear sothing pretty. If we land this project, there’s a bonus in it for you."

Ivy rolled her eyes when he turned away, but her mind was already calculating. If she had to endure this, she might as well use it to her advantage.

Later that night, she slipped into her most effective weapon—a dress that scread innocence but whispered danger.

The mont she stepped into the private dining room, every male head turned. Their hungry stares followed her as she walked, hips swaying just enough.

"Ivy! Co sit here, beautiful," called one gray-haired executive, patting the seat beside him.

"Mr. Lee, your studio’s hiding quite the treasure," the man said to her boss, not even trying to hide his leering.

Her boss practically shoved her forward.

"Ivy, pour Mr. Jack a drink, won’t you?"

She forced a smile while screaming inside, obediently pouring the expensive liquor into his glass. Three rounds later, his hand began creeping toward her thigh under the table.

"Excuse ," she whispered, feigning dizziness. "Too much to drink."

The mont she slipped into the hallway, her fingers flew across her phone screen.

[Ryan, help ! Please!]

Minutes dragged by. No reply.

Then—finally—a single text: [?]

She didn’t hesitate. She dialed his number, her voice cracking perfectly as soon as he picked up.

"I thought—it was just a business dinner," she said, breath hitching.

"But this old man keeps touching and talking about taking to his hotel! Ryan, I’m drinking too much, they won’t stop pouring, I—I don’t know what to do..."

On the other end, Ryan’s voice tightened. "Where are you?"

She gave the address imdiately, sniffling into the phone for effect.

"Please hurry, Ryan! I don’t know how much longer I can hold them off. They’re probably already looking for ..."

---

Ryan’s POV

ANOTHER SS TO CLEAN UP. I frowned at my phone, reading Ivy’s dramatic ssage begging for help. Why did she always create these situations? After the confrontation with Grandmother, I’d promised myself to cut ties with her completely. Yet here she was, crying wolf again.

The call ca through monts later, her voice trembling and tear-soaked. "Those n are touching ... trying to take to a hotel!" she sobbed. "Ryan, please, I’m scared!"

Damn it. Despite everything, I couldn’t just leave Sophie’s sister in potential danger. What if she really was in trouble this ti?

"Where are you?" I asked tersely, already reaching for my car keys. She rattled off the address of so mid-range restaurant downtown, her voice slurring dramatically about being forced to drink.

I signaled to Simon who was working late. "I need backup. Ivy’s in trouble—supposedly."

Simon’s expression showed exactly what he thought of this midnight rescue mission, but he nodded professionally. "I’ll bring the car around, sir."

Twenty minutes later, I kicked open the private dining room door with more force than necessary. The scene inside was nothing like Ivy had described. Yes, there were drunk businessn, but Ivy herself looked remarkably composed for soone supposedly being assaulted. Her makeup was perfect, her dress unwrinkled, and the only thing disheveled was her carefully tousled hair.

"Who the hell are you?" slurred one of the older n, spilling wine as he gestured wildly.

Before I could answer, Ivy launched herself at , clinging dramatically to my arm. "Ryan! You ca for !" she wailed, suddenly transforming into a damsel in distress. "Please take away from here!"

The cold fury building inside must have shown on my face because the businessn backed off instantly. Without a word, I extracted Ivy’s grip from my arm and guided her out, Simon following close behind.

In the elevator, she continued the act, sniffling pathetically. "Those terrible n... they kept forcing drinks on ... I feel so dizzy..."

I didn’t respond. The car ride was worse—she leaned heavily against my shoulder, practically purring.

"Ryan, I’ve been suffering so much without the company’s protection," she whimpered. "I’ve had to take this awful job where they treat like garbage. You saw what they made do tonight!"

I stared straight ahead, jaw clenched tight. "I’m taking you ho."

"I had to sell my apartnt," she said quickly, looking up with wide, calculated eyes. "My new place is... it’s terrible. Could I possibly stay with you? Just for a few days? I promise I won’t be any trouble. Just until I find a better job."

"No." The answer ca instantly. "I’ll arrange a hotel room for you."

Her disappointnt flickered briefly before she masked it with resignation. "If that’s what you prefer... Thank you for helping tonight. I’m sorry to be such a burden."

I rely nodded, maintaining my distance as Simon drove us to the nearest luxury hotel. After checking her in, I handed her the keycard, ready to leave.

"Ryan..." she caught my sleeve, eyes suddenly filling with fresh tears. "Please don’t go. "Please don’t go. I’m scared... what if I have nightmares tonight?

Every ti I close my eyes, it’s like I’m back there. I’m still so scared...I know it’s silly, but I just... I don’t want to sleep by myself."

I looked at her for a long mont, my expression unmoved."You’re not a child, Ivy. You’ll fall asleep, and the world will keep turning."

I pulled my arm away, but she grabbed again, more forcefully this ti, practically throwing herself against my chest. "Please, just stay a little while! I can’t be alone right now!"

As I tried disentangling myself from her desperate grip, a movent in my peripheral vision caught my attention. Standing frozen by the elevator was Serena.

My heart stopped. "Serena—"

She turned instantly, jabbing the elevator button repeatedly.

"Damn it!" I shoved Ivy away harder than I intended, racing after Serena as the elevator doors began closing. I barely managed to slip my hand between them, forcing them back open.

"Serena, wait. This isn’t what it looks like."

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