In Sweetwater, noble families carry on a legacy of unique powers, known as "sweets," passed down through bloodlines. These abilities, woven into the city's daily life, define status and influence. Among these families, the Graves were once a respect...
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We stood at the grand threshold of the estate, the door towering above us like the entrance to another world. We'd barely waited a moment before the heavy oak creaked and groaned, swinging open to reveal the figure who would greet us. I had expected the usual array of servants—a butler with a stiff smile, perhaps a maid with a respectful bow—but instead, we were met by a young noblewoman.
She emerged from within, stepping hesitantly into the afternoon light. It was well past noon, yet she looked as though she had just awoken from a restless slumber. Her platinum blonde hair tumbled down in tangled waves, some strands still curled as though they had been caught in the remnants of sleep. She wore the finest noble attire—lace, velvet, and embroidered silk—but it was all askew, as if she had thrown it on without much care. A black headband was perched crookedly atop her head, as though she had rushed to pull it on at the last moment. Despite the untamed appearance, there was something undeniably striking about her—her beauty was almost ethereal, like a goddess of ancient myth caught in a fleeting moment.
Her eyes were the most mesmerizing shade of sapphire, deep and unfathomable, a stark contrast to the vexed scowl that pulled at the corners of her lips. There was an expectant gleam in her gaze, as though she already knew something we didn't, and that knowledge left no room for pleasantries.
Vivienne's voice, though laced with a touch of irritation, was sharp as a blade. "Silvester tells me there was a problem with the donations?"
Kane's grin stretched wider, a sly and almost predatory curve to his lips. "Not exactly."
He stepped forward, moving with a practiced ease that bordered on arrogance. With deliberate motion, he positioned himself just enough to block any potential retreat. I could feel the tension building, a quiet undercurrent beneath his every move. "We came to discuss other matters."
Vivienne's expression faltered, confusion flickering for just a moment before it was replaced by cautious curiosity. "Other matters?"
I cleared my throat, stepping into the conversation with the quiet authority that came with the title I had worked hard to earn. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Nero," I said, offering a slight bow, though it was less out of formality and more to emphasize the weight of my words. "I'm a lawyer. And I'm currently working on a very important case—one that involves certain... less than savory dealings of particular interest to your family."
Vivenne gave me a look of contempt like talk of her family was forbidden, "You lied about the donation issue?"
I nodded thoughtfully, "Lawyer talk we needed to speak with you and obviously you wouldn't want to address us if we mentioned your family."
Vivienne's sapphire eyes melted over, perhaps because we had lied to draw her out, or perhaps because it was in relation to her family. She took a step back; in response, Kane took a step forward. Vivenne spat out, "I have nothing to discuss with you, leech, and your little crone." Kane lunged forward, but I stuck out my hand to block him. He shot me a look, but I began to speak. "What if I said a young man's life depended on it?"
