Chapter 444

I pulled my phone back out and opened the gallery. Ivy scoffed and started walking toward her room. I caught her arm—firm, not rough—and held the screen in front of her face.

The video began. Mary’s suicide recording. At first she tried to pull away, but as Mary’s voice filled the room—shaky, broken, thanking Chase for "showing her the truth" Ivy stopped fighting. Her body went still. She stared at the screen, eyes wide, breathing shallow. When the one-minute video ended, I backed out and opened the second one.

Chase’s voice came through the speaker. "Yes, fucking slut..."

Ivy’s knees buckled. She dropped onto the single couch, hands flying to her mouth. "Oh my god... oh my god, oh my god, no... no... what the fuck?"

The video played. Tablet on the desk. Mary’s confession looping. Chase jerking off. Groaning. Cumming on the screen right when Mary swallowed the pills. Slapping his dick against the tablet. "Good fucking whore... that’s right. That’s fucking right..."

Ivy’s face crumpled. Tears spilled over. She shook her head violently. "No... no, this can’t... he wouldn’t..."

"Chase isn’t the kind of guy you think he is," I said quietly. "Whatever he told you... it was a lie."

"Where did you... find this? That... video. His office... no—"

"He had a folder. Password-protected." I explained. "Three other folders named after the women who killed themselves. His patients. And you know... there was another name on there."

"What?"

"Yours." I met her eyes. "He was going to push you to do the same thing, Ivy. I know you’re too strong for that but—"

"Fuck..." She shook her head harder, tears streaming now. "FUCK! How... why is he... no, no..."

I closed the video and pocketed the phone. I stepped closer, standing over her. Placed a hand on her shoulder. She was shaking badly. The videos had shattered something in her. If Honeyed Words had triggered, maybe this wouldn’t have been necessary. Fuck. No idea. What’s done was done.

Ivy suddenly shoved my hand off her shoulder and stood up. Her face twisted—shock turning to fury.

"How could you show me that?" she shouted. "How could you just... shove that in my face like that?!"

"Ivy—"

"No!" She jabbed a finger at my chest. "You think I’m stupid? You think I’m going to believe this sick shit just because you say so? Maybe you edited it! Maybe you’re the one who’s lying!"

"I didn’t edit anything—"

"Shut up!" Her voice cracked. Tears kept falling. "You broke into his office, stole his laptop, and now you’re showing me snuff porn he supposedly jerked off to? You think I’m going to just... what? Thank you? Cry in your arms?"

"I’m trying to save you—"

"Save me?" She laughed—bitter, broken. "You think I need saving from Chase? From the one person who actually listens to me? Who doesn’t treat me like some broken little girl? You and my mother are the same! You both think I’m too stupid to see what’s real!"

"IVY!"

She paced now, hands shaking. "Those women... Mary, the others... yeah, they died. But you don’t know what they were going through. You don’t know what Chase was trying to do. Maybe he was helping them see the truth! Maybe—"

"Helping them?" I stepped forward. "He jerked off to their suicide videos, Ivy. He came on their fucking confessions. That’s not help. That’s evil."

She stopped pacing. Stared at me. Tears streamed down her face. "You’re lying. You have to be lying. He is not Chase. You’re lying."

"I’m not."

She shook her head again—violent. "Get out."

"Ivy—"

"GET OUT!" she screamed. Her voice cracked on the last word. She pointed at the door, hand shaking so hard it blurred. "Get the fuck out of my house before I call the police!"

I stood there for a second, chest tight. Then I nodded once.

"Okay."

╭───────────╮

WOMEN - INTERACTIONS

===============

Jasmine: Interest: 40 / 60★★

Kayla: Interest: 38 / 40★

Tessa: Interest: 40 / 60★★

Kim: Interest: 100 / 100★★★★★

Delilah: Interest: 75 / 80★★★

Cora: Interest: 100 / 100★★★★★

Mendy: Interest: 20 /40★

Nala: Interest: 100 /100★★★★★

Penelope: Interest: 5 /20

Minne: Interest: 38 /40★

Ivy: Interest: -99/20

Eleanor: Interest: 15/20

Amelia: Interest: 10/20

Esme: Interest: 60/80★★

╰───────────╯

I walked to the door. Opened it. Stepped out.

The lock clicked behind me.

I stood in the hallway for a long moment, breathing hard.

Fuck.

"If you don’t believe me..." I muttered under my breath, voice tight with frustration. "The cops will."

I pulled my phone from my pocket as I started down the stairs. My thumb jabbed the emergency dial—911. The line rang once, twice, three times. I kept moving, steps quick and heavy on the concrete. Just as I thought someone was about to pick up, a familiar voice cut through the ringing.

"Surprise."

Mana.

She laughed—low, amused, almost playful—like this was all a game to her.

The phone suddenly burned hot in my palm. Scalding. I yelped and flung it away without thinking. It clattered down the stairs, bouncing off steps with sharp plastic cracks, then skidded to a stop on the landing below. A second later, orange flames licked up from the screen. The casing bubbled and blackened.

Panic surged through me. I rushed down the stairs two at a time, nearly slipping on the wet soles of my shoes. I grabbed the burning phone by its edges—hot enough to sting my fingers—and sprinted to the nearest window in the stairwell. I quickly opened it and looked down. Empty sidewalk below, good. No one would be hurt.

I hurled the phone out.

It spun through the air, trailing smoke, and landed in a deep puddle with a hiss. The flames died instantly, leaving only charred plastic and a faint smell of burnt electronics drifting up.

I leaned on the windowsill, breathing hard. All the videos... gone. Every piece of evidence against Chase—wiped out in seconds. Mana. It was her. Fuck. How could she just reach into my life like that? I thought this whole "game" had rules.

"Men," a sultry voice purred behind me. "What can you do, right?"

I spun around.

Mana stood on the stairs above me, one hand resting casually on her hip. She wore a long red dress that clung to every curve—neckline plunging so low I could see the dark edges of both areolas, thick nipples pressing visibly against the thin fabric. Black high heels made her already towering height even more imposing. Her shadow fell over me like a weight.

"What?" My voice came out rough. "Why did you—"

"I wasted... so much power, Evan," she said, taking one slow step down. The heel clicked sharply against the concrete. "Sending those four. And now this... are you seriously not going to consider my offer? The things I’ve sacrificed for you..."

"You blew the only evidence I had against Chase!"

"Ah, Chase." She chuckled, low and dark, taking another step. "Masturbating to those videos like that... manly. Unlike you."

"Manly?"

"He has guts to chase his dreams, Marlowe." Another step. She stopped, towering over me now. "But you? Oh, no. You don’t."

"Dreams?"

"I can fix you." Her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned forward slightly. "Become my subject."

"Then you kill me?" I asked, voice low and steady despite the sweat running down my back. "Nah. Thanks, but I don’t feel like dying."

"Why do you even care?" She tilted her head. "Whether Chase does all of this or not?"

"Ivy is my friend."

"Ivy is..." Mana took one more step down. Close enough now that I could smell her—something sweet and burning. "A fucking whore. Why not just hypnotize her and fuck her? Would she consent to that? Well... no. But you shouldn’t care."

"Right. I should rape my own friend." I shook my head slowly. "How could I not think of that?"

"You are our subject," she said, voice calm but laced with poison. "You should have no friends. You—"

"Enough."

Another voice cut through the stairwell—cool, sharp, familiar.

I turned.

Dierella stood behind me at the bottom of the stairs. She wore normal clothes: plain t-shirt, jeans, a dark jacket. No wings. No ashen skin. No horns. For once she looked almost human... except for the way she’d simply appeared without a sound.

"My dear Dierella!" Mana said brightly. "We were just talking about Evan becoming my subject."

"That’s not gonna happen." Dierella walked up the steps until she stood between us. "And you intervened in this world, Mana. That goes against the rules."

"I didn’t touch him."

"You destroyed his phone." Dierella’s voice stayed level. "And interfered with his life."

"And what are you going to do about it?" Mana asked, voice calm but edged with something deadly. "Tell Silk? Oh, wait. She is dead. We killed her. We ALL killed her."

"I’m warning you." Dierella stepped forward one pace. "Stay the fuck away from my subject."

"Or what?" Mana’s smile didn’t waver.

Dierella didn’t answer. She just held Mana’s gaze—unblinking, unflinching.

I took a few steps back. No fucking way I was getting between those two. My heart was still hammering. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. When I lowered it, both of them were gone. No sound. No flash. Just... empty stairs.

They were either watching too much Batman, or they’d mastered the dramatic exit technique.

Either way... I was fucked. No evidence. No videos. Nothing left to prove what Chase had done. But I could always go back to his office tomorrow. Grab the folder again. Get new copies.

For now, though... sleep. A good, long, dreamless sleep was all I needed.

"And a new phone..." I muttered to myself as I headed downstairs.

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