The room was still charged with the echoes of their last conversation. The weight of everything Ashton had revealed pressed down on Vivie like an anchor, making it hard to breathe. He had watched over her for years, pulled strings in ways she hadn’t even realized. And despite the betrayal that gnawed at her, there was an undeniable truth—he had been right. If he hadn’t been there, her life might have been much worse.

Still, it didn’t erase the anger simmering inside her.

The door swung open, and Ashton entered. His movements were deliberate, his expression unreadable. He didn’t speak at first, only walked to the bar and poured himself a drink. The silence stretched, thick with tension.

“You’re angry,” he finally said, sipping his whiskey.

Vivie scoffed. “You think?”

He set the glass down, his eyes pinning her in place. “I don’t regret what I did, Vivie. I won’t apologize for keeping you safe.”

Her jaw tightened. “You don’t get to make those choices for me.”

“I do when your life is at risk.” His voice was steel. “You think this world would have been kind to you? That you would have been left alone?”

She crossed her arms. “Maybe not. But I deserved to know. I deserved to make my own decisions.”

He exhaled slowly, as if taming the frustration bubbling under the surface. “If I had given you that choice, you would have run. And you would have walked straight into danger.”

She hated that part of her agreed. That deep down, she knew he wasn’t wrong. But it didn’t mean she had to like it.

“So, what now?” she asked, watching him carefully.

Ashton leaned against the desk, his gaze unrelenting. “Now, you accept that this is your life. And you learn how to survive in it.”

A beat of silence passed before Vivie took a deep breath. “Then teach me.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “Teach you what?”

“To fight. To shoot. To protect myself.”

Something flickered in his expression, but he masked it quickly. “You don’t need to—”

“Yes, I do,” she interrupted. “I won’t be helpless anymore. I won’t just be some pawn in your world. If this is my life, then I want to know how to defend myself.”

Ashton studied her for a long moment, his gaze unreadable. Then, slowly, a smirk curled at his lips. “You think you can handle it?”

She lifted her chin. “I know I can.”

A dark chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Alright, little fighter. We’ll see if you’re serious.”

The next morning, Vivie found herself standing in an underground training room beneath Ashton’s estate. The space was vast, lined with weapons, punching bags, and mats for combat practice. She swallowed hard, her determination battling with a sliver of doubt.

Ashton walked in, dressed in dark athletic wear, exuding effortless control. “Let’s see what you’re made of.”

She squared her shoulders. “I’m ready.”

He smirked. “We’ll see about that.”

The next few hours were brutal. Ashton didn’t go easy on her—not that she expected him to. He taught her how to stand, how to throw a proper punch, how to block. Every time she got knocked down, she got back up, fueled by the fire in her veins.

“Again,” he ordered as she caught her breath.

Her muscles ached, sweat slicking her skin, but she didn’t back down. She lunged, aiming a punch at his side, but he caught her wrist effortlessly, twisting her arm just enough to remind her of his strength.

“You’re too predictable,” he murmured, his face inches from hers. “You need to be smarter than your opponent.”

She gritted her teeth, using his own move against him, twisting out of his hold. For a second, surprise flickered in his gaze.

“That’s better,” he admitted.

She smirked. “Told you I could handle it.”

He chuckled darkly. “We’ll see.”

The real test came when he led her to the gun range.

He placed a sleek black pistol in her hands, stepping behind her. “This isn’t a game, Vivie. You fire this, you better be sure you’re ready to end someone.”

She swallowed, gripping the weapon tightly. “I am.”

His hands covered hers, guiding her aim. His breath ghosted against her ear. “Then show me.”

She took a deep breath, steadying herself before pulling the trigger.

The shot rang out, striking the target dead center.

Silence followed.

Ashton’s grip tightened just slightly. “Good,” he murmured, something unreadable in his voice.

Vivie turned to face him, a fire in her eyes. “Again.”

For the first time, he looked at her with something almost like admiration. “You might just survive in my world after all.”

She smirked. “I plan to do more than survive.”

His gaze darkened with something dangerous, something possessive. “I guess we’ll see.”