“How fascinating,” Madeline says with a lilting laugh. “Though speaking of family, your sister Luna spoke so glowingly of you earlier. She seems incredibly supportive.”
“I’m sure she did.” The air thickens, lights sear and crowd’s murmurs spike into a static buzz that sets my molars grinding.
The room tilts slightly, faces blending, mouths moving, all of them waiting to devour whatever scraps we feed them.
“And of course,” Madeline leans forward, voice dripping with manufactured sympathy, “your parents would be so proud to see this wonderful new chapter in your life. What do you think they’d say?”
Something cracks inside my chest.
“I imagine they’d be thrilled,” I manage, though my voice sounds warped, foreign. “The Ellis and Blackwood families, united at last.”
“Oh, absolutely! And now with Luna carrying on their research legacy through the Evolution Initiative, it’s like everything’s aligning? The Ellis name rising higher than ever.”
“Rising higher?”
“Well yes! I mean, the Darkmoors have been so generous, taking Luna under their wing. And now you, joining the Blackwood dynasty. Some might say your parents’ tragedy opened doors that—”
“Opened doors?” The words snap out.
Madeline’s smile hesitates. “I only meant—”
“You mean their deaths were useful? That their murder served a purpose?”
The audience shifts, chairs creaking and throats clearing. Madeline’s expression falters. “Murder? Aria, darling, it was a terrible accident.”
“Was it?” I rise, the legs of my chair shrieking across the polished floor. “Because that’s what everyone says. The same way they say how proud my parents would be. How marvelous it is that Luna’s preserving their legacy. How perfect everything’s turned out.”
“Perhaps we should cut to break—”
“No.” My voice cuts through the studio. “You wanted an interview? Fine. Let’s talk about how this cityactuallyoperates. About how no one mourned my parents, they only cared about what research they left behind. The Founding Families swooped in like vultures, picking through the pieces of their life’s work.”
Hover orbs close in, their lenses greedy for spectacle. I can see the panic in the director’s eyes.
“Let’s talk about how Luna—my brilliant, sweet sister—is being molded into exactly what they want. How Alexander Darkmoor has twisted her into something unrecognizable.”
Madeline raises a hand to redirect, but I’m already too far gone.
“Or should we talk about my engagement?” I gesture toward the ring searing against my skin. “How Kian Blackwood owns his son’s soul, and now wants mine as well. How this whole city is built on manipulation, blood contracts, and polished deceit.”
The words spill like venom, years of restraint unraveling. My ruby pulses at my throat, the magic barely leashed.
“You sit here in couture gowns and sculpted illusions, sipping from crystal glasses while the city burns beneath your heels. The Founding Families aren’t guardians. They’re parasites. And you?” I turn toward the nearest orb. “You’re all so addicted to their pretty lies that you can’t even smell the decay anymore.”
Silence crashes down. Madeline’s face is a portrait of stunned porcelain. In the wings, I catch movement, enforcers, probably, coming to remove the crazy Ellis girl before she can say anything else incriminating.
“Don’t worry, I’ll see myself out. Wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect morning show with too much truth.”
I spin and walk, shoving a hover orb from my path. It clatters into a light rig with a metallic wail. The studio doors slam shut behind me.
Out in the corridor, my legs buckle, and I collapse against the wall, silk pooling beneath me.
What have I done?
Dom.
Gods, what will Kian do to him for this? My hand clenches over the ring, its weight now unbearable. This wasn’t a rebellion but ruin, and not just mine.
Footsteps approach, multiple sets, heavy and purposeful. I close my eyes, waiting for rough hands and cruel words. Instead, Kane crouches beside me.
