marked by midnight: the enemy's heiress-Chapter 47 : Livia - V

The next morning, Livia sent Ryan the location.

It was a small, cozy restaurant tucked away from the main road—one of those places that survived quietly without crowds or noise. Even on weekends, it stayed mostly empty, like it existed only for people who didn’t want to be seen thinking too hard in public.

She arrived first.

The bell above the door chimed softly as she stepped inside. Warm light pooled over wooden tables, and the faint smell of coffee and toasted bread lingered in the air. She chose a corner table, one with her back to the wall, habit she’d never quite grown out of. From there, she could see the entrance clearly.

Waiting had never been her strength.

She wrapped her fingers around the glass of water the waiter brought, tracing the rim absentmindedly. Her leg bounced under the table, not from impatience—but from the quiet tension building in her chest. Last night’s resolve still held, but daylight had a way of making things feel heavier, more real.

A few minutes later, the door opened again.

Ryan walked in.

Wearing just a casual shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly tousled like he hadn’t bothered fighting it too much. It made him seem less like a warning and more like a person—and she didn’t like how that softened something in her.

Their eyes met.

He walked over and stopped in front of her table. "Morning," he said.

"Morning," she replied.

They didn’t bother with small talk. No how was the traffic, no did you sleep well. The silence between them was intentional, thick with unasked questions.

Livia didn’t waste time.

"How did you meet Nina?" she asked.

Ryan blinked once, clearly not expecting it so bluntly. One eyebrow rose slightly as he leaned back in his chair. "Straight to it, huh?"

"Yes," she said simply.

He exhaled, running a hand over his jaw. "Is it really that important to go into details?" he asked. "Can’t I just say she was my ex... and Jason is her current boyfriend?"

The words landed heavily.

For a moment, Livia said nothing.

Her fingers tightened around the glass, knuckles whitening. Inside, something flared—hot, sharp—but she forced it down. She inhaled slowly through her nose, exhaled through her mouth, grounding herself before she spoke.

"What you just said," she replied calmly, "I already know."

Ryan looked at her again, more carefully this time.

"I’m not here for headlines," she continued. "I’m here because I want to understand why my present is somehow tangled up in your past."

The question lingered between them.

Ryan hesitated, then sat back fully, his posture more guarded now. He didn’t answer immediately, and that silence told her more than rushed words ever could.

After a brief moment, Livia sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows lightly on the table.

"Look," she said, her voice softer but firm. "I know I shouldn’t even be interested in this mess. Trust me—I’m very aware this isn’t my usual thing." A faint, humorless smile tugged at her lips. "I hate complications. I avoid them professionally."

Ryan watched her closely.

"But," she continued, "something already feels off. And when my instincts start screaming, ignoring them never ends well." She paused. "So let me figure out the whole thing. Properly."

Her gaze didn’t waver.

Ryan studied her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "If you’re asking for clarity... you deserve it."

The waiter passed by, oblivious to the tension, and set down menus with a cheerful smile before walking away again.

Livia barely glanced at hers.

"This isn’t about you choosing sides," Ryan added quietly. "It’s about understanding what you’re walking into."

She met his eyes, steady and unflinching. "Exactly." she said.

"I’ll start from the beginning then," he said quietly, as if bracing himself.

"Oh, trust me," Livia replied, leaning back slightly, her lips curving into a confident, almost daring smile. "I have more time than necessary—for this."

Ryan let out a short breath, half amusement, half resignation. "Okay then."

He shifted in his chair, settling into it more comfortably, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t fully disappear. "Four years back," he began, his voice steady but subdued, "it was just after Ms. Serrano left Mr. Cassian. About a year after, actually."

Livia stayed silent, her gaze fixed on him, attentive and sharp.

"The workload back then was... brutal," he continued. "I barely had time to breathe, let alone think about anything outside work." He paused briefly, fingers brushing the edge of the table. "During one of the industry meetings, I met Nina."

His eyes flicked to Livia for a second, checking her reaction, then away again.

"She was working there as an employee. Nothing extraordinary about the setting. No dramatic first impression." A faint, almost ironic smile touched his lips. "She showed interest first. We talked, exchanged numbers. That was it."

Livia nodded once, encouraging him without interrupting. "And then?" she asked softly.

Ryan exhaled and leaned back, his gaze drifting toward the window beside them. Outside, the street moved lazily, unaware of the weight sitting at their table.

"Then... we started talking more. Slowly," he said. "Messages after work. Calls that lasted longer than they should’ve. It wasn’t sudden." His jaw tightened slightly. "It turned into something familiar. Comfortable."

He hesitated, the word catching in his throat.

"Close to love," he said finally. "Or maybe... it really was love."

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was heavy, deliberate. Livia absorbed every word, every pause, noticing the way his expression hardened when he said her name, the way his voice softened when he spoke about time.

Ryan sighed again, quieter this time, as if the memory itself weighed more than he expected. He kept looking out the window, avoiding her eyes—not out of guilt, but out of reflection.

Livia didn’t rush him. She simply waited, fingers resting around her glass, her mind piecing together fragments she hadn’t known she needed.

"Then one day..." Ryan paused, his jaw tightening slightly before he continued. "He arrived."

Livia didn’t interrupt. She just waited, arms folded loosely, eyes fixed on him.

"Jason is... a distant relative," Ryan said. "A cousin, technically. Back then, he was a complete nerd—quiet, awkward, always buried in books. His father—my uncle—was obsessed with him becoming something. Good grades, good college, good future. No distractions."

Ryan let out a short breath. "So he sent him to live with me. Thought a change of environment would help. And honestly? It did."

He leaned back slightly, resting an arm against the chair. "Jason looked up to me. Took everything I did seriously—how I worked, how I lived, how I handled pressure. He was a few years younger, so I guess I became his unofficial role model."

Livia tilted her head. "That explains the confidence upgrade."

Ryan gave a faint, humorless smile. "Yeah. Everything was... normal. Good, even. We had our routines. Work, late dinners, stupid arguments over whose turn it was to clean. Life was steady."

His fingers tapped once against the table before stopping.

"Until one evening," he continued quietly, "Nina came over to meet me."

Livia’s expression didn’t change, but her shoulders stiffened just a little.

"She’d visited my place before," Ryan said. "Nothing unusual about that. I didn’t think twice. I just assumed it’d be another casual evening."

He glanced at Livia, as if checking whether she was still following.

"That was the first time Jason really noticed her," he added. "Not just as ’Ryan’s girlfriend’—but as... her."

Ryan exhaled slowly, like the memory still sat heavy in his chest. "And that’s when things started shifting. Quietly. Slowly. In ways you don’t realize until it’s already too late."

He stopped there, letting the silence settle between them.

Livia didn’t rush him. She just nodded once, her voice calm but firm.

"So that’s the moment everything stopped being simple, without you even realizing it."

Ryan met her gaze. "Exactly." There was a pause then..

"Sometimes," Ryan continued, his voice steady but distant, "I helped him with decisions. Which company to apply to, which offer made more sense. Other times, Nina did. Somewhere along the way... they exchanged numbers."

He lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. "I didn’t think much of it. It felt harmless. Normal, even. I trusted both of them."

Livia’s lips pressed together, but she said nothing, urging him on with a quiet look.

"Life went on," Ryan said. "Work, deadlines, meetings—my usual routine. I barely noticed time passing. Nina and I... we were still together, but we hadn’t really talked in a while. Everything felt rushed. Incomplete."

He paused, fingers tightening around the glass in front of him.

"One day, I finished work earlier than expected. For once, I thought—let me do something right. I booked a hotel. Just for us to have some intimate time. I wanted us to reconnect."

Livia’s brows drew together slightly.

"I called her," he went on. "Told her the plan. She sounded excited. Said she’d come."

For a moment, there was the faintest hint of a smile on his face—quickly gone.

"Then Cassian asked me to stay back. A few more hours. Important work." He let out a slow breath. "I hesitated. I’d already made plans, already asked her to be there. But... work won. It always did."

Livia muttered under her breath, "Classic."

Ryan nodded once. "I called Nina and told her I couldn’t make it. Said we’d do it another time. She didn’t argue."

His jaw clenched. "But then—things wrapped up earlier than I expected. Much earlier. And I thought... why not surprise her?"

Livia’s stomach tightened, sensing where this was going.

"So I didn’t call," Ryan said quietly. "I drove there instead."

The restaurant noise faded into the background as he spoke.

"When I reached the room, I opened the door slowly," he said. "And then..."

He stopped.

Livia didn’t rush him. Her hands curled lightly around her napkin.

"...And then I saw them," Ryan finished, his voice low. "Jason. And Nina."

He swallowed hard. "Tangled up together."

Livia’s breath left her in a slow exhale.

"I just stood there," Ryan said. "Not angry. Not shouting. Just... frozen. My brain refused to catch up with what my eyes were seeing. I kept thinking—this can’t be real. Like if I blinked hard enough, it would correct itself."

His gaze dropped to the table. "Jason—my cousin. In his early twenties, still figuring himself out. The kid who lived under my roof." The girl I trusted. in the hotel room I booked."

Silence settled between them, heavy and uncomfortable.

"That," he said finally, "was the moment everything broke."

Livia leaned back slightly, shaking her head once. "Wow," she said softly. "That’s not just betrayal. That’s... a full system crash."

Ryan let out a dry breath that might’ve been a laugh. "Yeah. That’s one way to put it."

She looked at him, eyes sharp now—not angry, not emotional, just clear.

"And Jason?"

Ryan’s expression hardened. "Jason learned how to become someone. He just chose the worst way to do it."