Chapter 61 – Bitter Blood (Ivy’s POV)

Chapter 61 – Bitter Blood (Ivy’s POV)
It was one thing to have talked with Damian. It was another thing to understand how my cousin had suddenly shown up in my life again after so many years.
I stormed down the corridor toward the guest wing with my heart pounding furiously in my chest. Breathe, Ivy, I told myself, but the betrayal boiling in my veins was beyond calming. How was I going to confront my past in the person of this woman?
Two guards at the arched double doors stood straighter as I approached. Without bothering to knock, I shoved one door open and stepped into Bianca’s suite. The air reeked of her sickly perfume. Bianca lounged on a velvet settee with a champagne flute in hand, looking for all the world like the lady of the manor.
She arched a thin brow as I barged in. “Ivy, darling,” she purred, setting aside her glass. She rose with feline grace, draped in a silk robe the colour of blood. “To what do I owe this visit?”
I let the door swing shut behind me. “Cut the crap, Bianca. You know why I’m here.”
Her red lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You look upset, cousin. Did something happen? Is Damian—”
“Don’t say his name.” The words came out in a low growl. My vision tunnelled on her smirking face. “This is not about Damian. This is about us and about answers to things I had rather left unsaid all these years.”
“Then leave them that way.”
“Not when you suddenly show up at our door.” I shot back.
She scoffed. “I’m just as surprised to find you here, Ivy. What coincidence is this that you’re sleeping with the father of my child.”
My stomach tightened. “You left me, Bianca. You were meant to stand for me when your parents threw me out but you left my side.”
Bianca’s expression tightened. “I had to survive too, you know,” she said, voice like ice. “After your father’s… betrayal, his mess painted a bullseye on all of us. We did what we had to do.”
I barked a humourless laugh. “And what exactly did you do? Vanish? Sell me out? Or just crawl into bed with the first powerful man who’d have you?”
Her nostrils flared. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?” I shot back. “You show up here out of nowhere, claiming Damian’s your baby’s father—expecting us to just welcome you with open arms? Where were you when I was alone and terrified after Antonio died? You were family, Bianca. You left me to fend for myself.”
Something like guilt flickered in her eyes, but she masked it quickly. “That was years ago. And I’m here now because my son deserves the protection of his father’s pack. Or would you rather I have stayed away and let Matteo Devereaux snatch us up?” She tilted her head, studying me. “Is that what this is? You’d prefer Matteo have the upper hand?”
My heart stuttered. The way she said it—Matteo’s name rolling off her tongue like familiarity—sent a spike of alarm through me. “I don’t give a damn about Matteo,” I lied. “I care that you’re lying to me.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “Be honest. Is that child even his?”
Bianca bristled, arms crossing defensively. “How dare you? Of course he is.”
“Forgive me if I’m not inclined to take you at your word.” I gave her a once-over of disgust. “You’ve been deceitful from the moment you arrived. Playing the victim, playing him. What’s your game? Bleed Damian’s charity? Or something more?”
Bianca’s eyes flashed. “Believe what you want. I’m not your enemy, Ivy.”
“No?” I felt a bitter smile twist my lips. “You waltz into my prison and stir up chaos, and I’m supposed to think you’re on my side? Spare me.” I jabbed a finger at her.
She cut me off with a sharp laugh. “Oh, cousin… You’re the one deluding yourself. Do you honestly think you mean anything to Damian beyond a means to an end? Don’t forget, he dragged you here in chains. Or have you fallen so hard you’ve forgiven that little detail?”
Her words hit like a slap. How the fuck did she know all that? I forced myself not to flinch. “I know exactly what he is,” I snarled. “And I know exactly what you are.”
“And what’s that?” Bianca sneered.
“A snake in the grass.” My patience snapped. I closed the distance in a heartbeat, shoving her back against the wall. Her champagne flute toppled and shattered, the sound a shrill punctuation to my rage. Bianca gasped as I pressed my forearm to her throat. “I’ve had enough of your poison,” I hissed inches from her face, all my detective instincts rising against her.
She clawed at my arm, eyes bulging. I eased the pressure just enough for her to suck in a raspy breath. “Ivy—stop,” she croaked. “Are you crazy?”
“Probably,” I growled. “Crazy enough to do what I should’ve done when you first showed up.” My blood roared in my ears. Part of me thrilled at how easy it would be to dig in, cut off her air—just a few seconds of pressure. She’d betrayed me without a second thought; why should I show mercy now?
Bianca’s face reddened as she struggled. She kicked out, but I pinned her legs with my knee. A dangerous heat built behind my eyes and suddenly I thought… wait… did my nails just lengthen and prick into her skin? I gasped as I let her go, my heart hammering.
She had noticed the wound and was staring at me with a certain scrutiny. “What the hell are you, Ivy?”
I was trembling, wondering what just took place as well. What the hell am I? I took a look at my shaky hands and my fingers appeared normal again. But I knew what I had just seen… felt… I needed to see Sierra. “Go to hell, Bianca!”
And with that, I stormed out.