Abyss

Rowan was already outside by the time Harvey caught up to him.
The cool night air hit him like a slap, but it did little to quell the fire burning in his chest. Rowan stood a few paces ahead, facing the open night with his back rigid, his hands clenched into fists.
If he stayed there, he would either end up killing everyone or got himself killed.
Either way, it wasn’t a wise choice.
There was a tautness in his posture, a barely restrained violence simmering beneath the surface.
Harvey approached cautiously, sensing the weight of the moment. “Brother,” he called softly, though there was an edge to his voice, “Hold on.”
Rowan didn’t turn around. For a long moment, he stood there, staring out into the darkness, the tension around him thick and palpable.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low, laced with barely contained fury. “That bastard,” he muttered, venom dripping from his words. “He thinks he owns everything. That he can take anything he wants.”
Harvey could feel the anger radiating off him. “Brother, this isn’t the place,” he cautioned, stepping closer. “If you make a scene now, if you do anything rash.. ”
Rowan spun around, his eyes blazing. “He’s making a mockery of this whole thing!” His voice was harsh, a growl that echoed into the night. “He’s manipulating everyone, parading Amara around like she’s some prize he’s already claimed.”
Harvey sighed, running a hand through his hair. He understood Rowan’s anger, hell, he felt it too. Alessandro was pushing, testing boundaries, and taking far too much pleasure in doing so.
But Harvey also knew the delicate balance they had to maintain. One wrong move, one reckless action, and everything they had worked for could come crashing down.
“I know,” Harvey said, his voice calmer, trying to ground Rowan. “But there’s a bigger game being played here. Alessandro’s goading you, and if you lose control now, you’ll be playing right into his hands.”
Rowan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring. He looked away, but the tension in his body remained. “And Amara?” he asked bitterly. “What about her? She’s trapped in this.. between all of us. Do you think she deserves this? To be shackled to him?”
Harvey’s gaze softened. He couldn’t deny the truth of Rowan’s words. “She doesn’t,” he admitted. “But we need to be smart about this. Alessandro’s using her to provoke you, to weaken you. If you make a move now, without a plan, he’ll win. You know that.”
Rowan let out a frustrated breath, his fists still clenched at his sides. His heart pounded with the need to act, to do something.
But Harvey’s words reached him, cutting through the fog of rage. He knew Harvey was right.
As much as it killed him to stand by and watch, charging into this fight without a strategy would only make things worse.
But that didn’t make the bitterness any easier to swallow.
“I can’t just stand by,” Rowan muttered, his voice barely audible now, thick with the weight of the situation. “I can’t let her suffer because of him.”
Harvey stepped forward, placing a firm hand on Rowan’s shoulder. “We won’t,” he promised, his voice steady and resolute. “But we need to wait. The right moment will come, and when it does, Alessandro won’t know what hit him.”
Rowan’s shoulders tensed, but he nodded, if only slightly. He hated it… hated waiting, hated knowing that Amara was stuck in this twisted game while he stood by. But Harvey was right. Rushing into this now would only make things worse.
“Fine,” Rowan finally said, though the fire in his eyes hadn’t dimmed. “But when that moment comes, I won’t hesitate.”
Harvey’s lips curled into a small, grim smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
As they stood there, the night quiet around them, both men knew that the battle with Alessandro was far from over.
It had only just begun.
Inside the hall, the atmosphere had returned to a deceptive calm.
Amara remained at Alessandro’s side, the weight of the engagement announcement hanging over her like a noose.
She could still feel Rowan’s presence, even though he was gone from the room, as if the connection between them lingered despite the physical distance.
Alessandro leaned in close enough that only she could hear his words. “Where do you think our engagement should be? Do you want to be anywhere special?”
Amara’s throat tightened. She didn’t want this engagement.. didn’t want to be bound to a man she didn’t love, didn’t trust, not when every fiber of her being screamed that something was wrong.
She forced herself to respond, even though the words tasted bitter in her mouth. “No, it’s fine here in Las Vegas.”
Alessandro tilted his head, his fingers tightening slightly around her hand. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It never did. “Too bad,” he said, almost as if he enjoyed watching her squirm, “I was thinking of Switzerland. What do you say?”
Switzerland? Her mind spun at the suggestion. Was he serious? The last thing she wanted was to drag this sham of an engagement to some picturesque, distant place, only to further entrench herself in this lie.
Her eyes flickered across the room, searching for an escape. And then she saw Vaughn, sitting alone in the corner, his small frame curled up in a chair, looking lost amidst the swirling crowd of adults who had long forgotten his presence.
Something in her chest clenched at the sight of him.. her son, the only light in the sea of darkness that threatened to drown her.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Alessandro, her voice tight. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Without waiting for his response, she turned on her heel and made her way toward Vaughn, her heart hammering with each step. She could feel Alessandro’s eyes on her back, burning holes into her, but she didn’t care.
Amara faltered. How could she answer that? How could she explain the twisted reality of their lives without scaring him? She hesitated, trying to find the words, but none came.
Sensing her silence, Vaughn pressed on. “Mommy, don’t marry him. He’s not good.”
Her heart twisted painfully at his words.
It was like he could see right through the mask she wore the same mask she had put on to protect him, to shield him from the darkness surrounding them. “How can you say he’s not good?” she asked softly, though she already knew the answer in her heart.
Vaughn paused, biting his lip, his small brow furrowing in thought. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, “I just don’t like him.”
Amara swallowed hard, fighting back the storm of emotions swirling within her.
“If you don’t like him,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her decision, “then I won’t marry him.”
Vaughn’s eyes lit up, a spark of hope igniting in their depths. “Promise, Mommy?”
She forced a smile, though it was shaky and fragile. “Promise.”
For a brief moment, the darkness around her seemed to lift. Vaughn smiled at her, his face brightening as though he believed everything would be okay now, that his mother would make everything right.
But as she pulled him into her arms, holding him tightly against her chest, Amara’s heart sank deeper into the abyss.