"You can't be serious," Riley stated, but her words faltered as she caught the icy edge in Tryson's gaze.
His eyes were sharp, cold as an eagle's, and he stepped toward her with deliberate precision.
When he spoke again, his voice was low and measured, each word slicing through the tension in the room.
"Remove the ring," he said.
Tryson turned on his heel to leave, but halted mid-step as Riley's voice cut through the silence.
"Tryson," she said, her tone laced with defiance, "if you really want to sever this alliance, then you might as well forget about the partnership my father has with your company."
Her words hung in the air like a gauntlet thrown.
Tryson stopped, a smirk playing on his lips, his disbelief plain. Slowly, he turned back toward her, hands tucked casually in his pockets, his gaze colder than before.
Riley's heart pounded. She had no desire to threaten him, but he'd left her no choice.
Surely, her words had struck a chord—surely, he was reconsidering.
But as Tryson strode toward her, he radiated the raw, unyielding confidence of a lion closing in on its prey.
She instinctively stepped back, a tremor of unease rippling through her.
When he was close enough, he lowered his head, his face inches from hers.
His voice, low and cutting, was for her ears alone.
"Go ahead, then. I'm not stopping you."
Riley froze, her breath catching in her throat.
The sheer audacity of his words left her reeling. Tryson's gaze flicked past her, landing on Ana, who stood in the shadows like a statue, patiently awaiting her boss's command.
It wasn't fear that rooted Riley in place—it was disbelief. Tryson wasn't backing down. If anything, he was daring her to make her move.
What did he mean? Was he truly willing to abandon the partnership with her father's company?
Tryson knew how much his father valued that bond—how deeply it mattered, especially since their fathers were old friends.
Without that relationship, Riley knew she would've lost everything to Angel.
Their engagement wasn't born out of romance; it was a calculated arrangement.
Tryson had agreed, not just to satisfy her father, but because he couldn't bear the thought of disappointing his own.
And now?
He was speaking as if none of it mattered—as if that bond had never meant anything to him in the first place.
What was happening?
Riley's breath caught in her throat as she struggled to find words.
But before she could speak, Tryson leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper that brushed against her like ice.
Then, he straightened and fixed her with a cold, unrelenting stare.
"You can't be serious, Tryson," she managed, her voice shaky but determined. "You'd lose sales at your company if you go through with this. You know it."
But he only scoffed, the sound bitter and final. With a slight nod, he responded, his tone sharp enough to cut.
"It's a pity, Riley. A real pity you've convinced yourself that you're more important than you are. Do you honestly think I'd grovel at your father's feet? That I'd beg for his mercy? Go on—tell him you don't want us to be partners anymore. Let's see how that plays out."
He turned sharply, intending to leave, but Riley acted on instinct, her hand darting out to grip his.
The suddenness of it made him pause, his back stiffening, but before he could shake her off, she stepped in front of him.
Her heart raced as she searched his face, desperately trying to find a trace of the man she thought she knew.
"I always thought magic and charms were just fairy tales, but now, Tryson—" she hesitated, her voice cracking under the weight of her disbelief. "Now I wonder... has she bewitched you? Did someone put you under a spell? Because this—this isn't you."
Tryson's gaze didn't waver, cold and unreadable.
"You're lying to me," Riley continued, her voice trembling with both anger and desperation. "This is just some prank, right? You told me you liked me, Tryson. That you only wanted me. Remember? So what's changed?"
She waited, holding her breath for his response. But when he finally spoke, his tone was calm, too calm, and it hit harder than any shout ever could.
"Stop the act, Riley. We both know what this is about. You've never cared about love, so don't pretend now. We both know what you truly want."
His words struck her like a blow. Her grip on his hand loosened, her eyes widening as she stared at him in stunned silence.
At that moment, something inside her cracked, the perfect facade she'd clung to for so long shattering.
But Tryson? He didn't falter. He didn't soften.
There was no way Tryson could know.
"What... what are you talking about?" Riley stammered, her voice unsteady as her wide eyes betrayed the panic beneath her carefully constructed mask of surprise.
Her expression, though expertly composed, couldn't completely hide the cracks forming in her facade.
But Tryson didn't bite.
Words felt useless to him now—a futile attempt to untangle a truth he already understood. And deep down, he couldn't bring himself to blame her.
Everything Riley did, every move she made, was a desperate act of survival. A means to secure her father's fragile place in the world, even if it meant tying herself to him—or worse, bearing his children.
The weight of it all pressed heavily on Tryson, but his mind was elsewhere.
Angel's shadow loomed large in his thoughts, distracting him, clouding his focus. Whatever Riley said now couldn't pierce through the haze.
Without another word, he turned on his heel, walking away from her without so much as a glance back.
His abrupt departure left Riley frozen in place, her heart pounding against her ribs.
She stood there, stunned, replaying the scene over and over in her mind. His words echoed like a distant thunderclap, each repetition louder than the last.
Was he truly aware of it?
The possibility sent a chill racing down her spine. Tryson's actions, his cold gaze, and the way he'd left without explanation—all of it seemed to confirm her worst fears.