WRITER'S POV:
Cassius found them in the garden.
Ivy didn't hear him at first—not over the quiet rustle of leaves or the water slipping through her fingers from the metal can. But Aurora did.
Her eyes flicked past Ivy's shoulder, and her posture straightened so sharply you'd think someone had pulled a string in her spine.
"Speak of the devil," Aurora murmured.
Ivy turned.
Cassius stood just beyond the archway, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled up, expression unreadable.
He looked at the two women—the cold matriarch and the emotional wildcard—and clearly didn't know whether to be alarmed or grateful.
Ivy stood, awkward. "Good morning."
"You're here," he said, voice lower than usual.
glanced at her son, then at Ivy. "She found the garden."
"She found you," Cassius muttered.
"Don't sound so concerned," Aurora said. "I haven't hexed her yet."
He approached slowly, eyes flicking between them. "What were you talking about?"
"White roses and disappointments," Aurora replied.
Ivy tried to not feel like a white rose or a disappointment.
Cassius glanced at Ivy. She looked away.
"Ivy," he said quietly, "can I talk to you?"
"No," Aurora interrupted. "You'll ruin her mood. We were... bonding."
Cassius blinked.
"Bonding?"
"It happens. You wouldn't understand."
Ivy stepped back, feeling like she was intruding on their weird, high-level passive-aggression."I should go," she said. "I have nothing left to water."Aurora gave her a long, considering look. "You water like you've survived real boredom. I like that."
Cassius raised an eyebrow. "You like her now?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Aurora snapped, adjusting her pearls. "I merely tolerate her. Tolerably."
Then she turned and walked away, leaving behind the faint scent of Chanel and judgment.
Cassius stared after her, then turned to Ivy.
"What did she say to you?"
They stood in silence.
The roses swayed.
"That you're a disappointment."
He sighed. "She says that to her jewelry."
Ivy smirked despite herself.
They stood there for a second, neither quite knowing what to say.
"You don't have to be afraid of her," he said finally.
Ivy grinned.
"I'm not," Ivy replied. "She's just... sharp."
"So are you."
Ivy looked at him.
Cassius stepped forward. "You've survived everything I've thrown at you. My mother can't undo that."
"You mean your house, your ex, your criminal empire—those things?""I meant the roses," he said dryly.Ivy rolled her eyes.Cassius softened just slightly. "I'm trying.""Try harder.""Noted."They stood in silence for another beat.Then, surprisingly, Cassius reached out and gently took the watering can from her."I'll finish this. Go inside."She blinked. "Are you serious?""You look like you need to be away from me. And her. And dirt."And for once—just once—she didn't argue.She turned and walked back toward the house.But not before glancing over her shoulder to see Cassius awkwardly watering his mother's roses, frowning like they personally offended him.She smiled.Maybe he was trying.