Chapter 4
Minutes ticked by, heavy and oppressive. Finally, Vi's voice broke the silence.
"What did she want?"
Ivy exhaled shakily, her hands still curled into fists. "Questions. She wanted answers about someone I saw the night they took me. A girl with blue braids."
Vi shifted, the metal of her shackles clinking softly. "pow-" She quickly paused correcting herself. "Jinx," she murmured, almost to herself.
Ivy's eyes snapped to the stone wall that separated them. "You know her?"
A moment passed, thick with unspoken history. "Yeah," Vi said, her voice tight. "I know her."
Ivy's brows furrowed as she pressed further. "How do you know her?"
Vi's silence stretched, as if she were battling memories she'd rather leave buried. Finally, she spoke, each word carrying the weight of regret. "She's my sister."
The revelation sent a jolt through Ivy. The pieces of the puzzle shifted in her mind, each one sharper than before. The girl in the shadows, the chaos that followed—it all suddenly made sense. But with that understanding came more questions, ones that gnawed at her insides.
Ivy's voice dropped to a whisper. "Why would she be there that night?"
Vi's sigh was heavy. "Because trouble follows her like a shadow. And this time, it looks like it found you too."
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The clang of iron against iron shattered the somber silence as the warden stormed down the corridor, his boots slamming against the stone with a predatory rhythm. Ivy's eyes flicked up briefly from her tray of stale, unidentifiable food before settling back on it, trying to tune out the world. She kept her head low, the bitter taste mingling with thoughts of Vi's confession.
"Get up!" the warden barked. The sound reverberated down the hall, sending a shiver up Ivy's spine.
A grunt followed. Ivy didn't need to see to know the warden had dragged Vi to her feet. The scuffle, the scrape of boots, and then the unmistakable thud of fists connecting with flesh echoed from the cell next door.
Ivy's fingers tightened around her tray, her knuckles white as she tried to ignore it, to block out Vi's muffled groans. But each blow was a drumbeat hammering against her resolve. She stared at the floor, feeling helpless rage simmer beneath her skin.
Vi's voice, strained but unyielding, cut through the noise. "That all you got?"
The warden's laughter was a cruel, hollow sound. "Plenty more where that came from, sweetheart."
Ivy closed her eyes, Vi's words replaying in her mind. She's my sister. Could she trust this stranger who wore defiance like armor, even as they broke her?
The sound of fists continued, the violence seeping into the stone and air around them. Ivy's heart pounded in her chest, the question gnawing at her: If I trust her, what happens next?
The beating continued relentlessly in the cell next door, the sickening thuds of fists meeting flesh echoing through the corridor. Ivy flinched with each blow, her body tensed as if absorbing every impact herself. She kept her eyes fixed on the cold stone floor, focusing on the silence she willed into her mind. But it was impossible to ignore the ragged, defiant breaths that came from Vi, even as the assault dragged on.
Finally, the sounds of violence ceased, replaced by the heavy, satisfied breathing of the warden. His boots scuffed the ground as he stepped back from Vi's cell, the silence hanging thick and heavy. Then, with a cruel smile, he turned to Ivy's cell, his dark eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction.
"Well, well, Ivy Kingsley," he said, the corners of his mouth curling into a mockery of praise. "Always so obedient, so well-behaved."
He unlocked her cell with a metallic click, the door creaking as it swung open. Ivy's heart pounded as he stepped inside, his polished boots crushing her discarded meal beneath them. The stale bread and watered-down broth smeared across the stone floor, a pitiful sight that mirrored the helplessness she felt.
"Up," the warden ordered, his tone dripping with condescension.
Ivy hesitated, her hands clenched at her sides. The warden's smile widened, a thin, venomous line. He leaned closer, the stench of sweat and cruelty mingling in the air between them.
"I said, stand up."
Swallowing the bitter taste of fear and anger, Ivy pushed herself to her feet, the ache in her muscles a constant reminder of the struggle that brought her here. The warden's gaze swept over her, searching for cracks in her resolve. But she met his eyes with defiance, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.
"Good girl," he whispered, his voice like a snake's hiss. "Keep it that way."
He stepped back, his boots grinding the ruined food deeper into the floor. With one last glance over his shoulder, he left her cell, locking the door behind him. The corridor returned to its oppressive quiet, broken only by Vi's ragged breathing and the distant drip of water echoing in the stone depths.
Ivy's fists unclenched slowly as she sat back down, knees trembling. The question that haunted her before—the question of trust—returned, louder than ever.
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Ivy sat on the edge of the cot in her cell, arms crossed, her sharp green eyes fixed on the chipped concrete wall.
"You good?" Ivy asks.
"Yeah, You?" Vi's voice, a rare softness in her tone.
Before Ivy could respond, the sound of boots echoing down the hall snapped both their gazes toward the door. The rhythm was precise, deliberate—an Enforcer's stride. Ivy tensed, irritation bubbling beneath the surface.
The door creaked open, revealing Caitlyn Kiramman, her polished uniform pristine as always.
"Ivy," Caitlyn began, her tone measured, "I need your help."
Ivy's brows knit together in a scowl. "You've got to be kidding me. Whatever you're selling, I'm not buying."
"I'm not here to argue." Caitlyn's calm gaze met Ivy's, unwavering. "I need someone with your... skill set to infiltrate Zaun's underworld and gather crucial intel." She paused sighing "In return, I'll use my influence to get you out of here—for good. Your record, clean. Your name, cleared."
Ivy let out a bitter laugh, standing to meet Caitlyn eye to eye. She gripped the metal bars between them. "Oh, that's rich. You think I'd trust an Enforcer? I'd rather rot in here."
Vi moved closer to their shared wall, a flicker of unease crossing her face. "Maybe hear her out, Ivy."
Ivy glared. "You're siding with her? Seriously?"
"No," Vi interjected firmly, "but she's offering you freedom. A chance to walk out of here and not look back."
"On her terms," Ivy hissed turning her attention back to Caitlyn. "How convenient. And what's stopping you from screwing me over the second I do your dirty work?"
Caitlyn hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing her next words. "I'll agree to whatever you need as collateral. And for what its worth my word."
"I don't care about your word," Ivy snapped, pacing her cell. "I care about not being stabbed in the back."
Caitlyn folded her arms, her patience holding firm. "I told you, You have my word. And my word carries weight in Piltover."
Ivy stopped pacing, narrowing her eyes. "Why me? Of all the crooks and criminals you could've picked, why'd you come here?"
Caitlyn's jaw tightened, her polished demeanor faltering for the first time. "Because you know Zaun. You've survived it. And... because I believe you don't belong in here."
Ivy scoffed, a dry, humorless sound. "You don't know a thing about me."
"I know enough," Caitlyn replied. "Enough to see potential."
The room went silent. Ivy stared at Caitlyn, a thousand unsaid words flickering in her gaze.
Finally, Ivy exhaled, her shoulders relaxing a fraction. "Fine. I'll do it. But one condition—Vi comes with."
Caitlyn took a step back peering into Vi's cell. She studied her for a moment before nodding, her reluctance clear but unspoken. "Agreed."
Ivy smirked faintly, though her eyes remained guarded. "Hope you know what you're signing up for, princess."
Caitlyn's jaw tightened as Ivy's conditions settled in the air. She smoothed her coat with a deliberate motion, her composed demeanor slipping just enough to reveal the tension simmering underneath. For someone accustomed to order and precision, dealing with Ivy was like trying to rein in a storm.
"I hope you'll take this seriously, Ivy," Caitlyn said coolly, her voice firm but not without a hint of exasperation. "We don't have time for games. I'm putting my reputation—and my trust—on the line."
Ivy smirked, leaning casually against the bars of her cell. "Trust. Just don't forget who dragged me into this mess."
Caitlyn's lips pressed into a thin line, her frustration evident, though she refused to rise to the bait. Her gaze shifted briefly to Vi, searching for a flicker of support or reassurance, but Vi's expression remained neutral, her arms crossed.
"Fine," Caitlyn said at last, her voice softening just a fraction. "We'll do this your way—for now. But don't make me regret this."
She turned sharply on her heel, her polished boots clicking against the floor as she left the cell block. The tension in the air lingered like smoke in her wake.
The sound of the elevator door shut behind Caitlyn, leaving Vi and Ivy alone in the dimly lit corridor. For a moment, silence reigned, heavy with unspoken words. Vi leaned against the walls of Ivy's cell, letting out a slow, controlled breath.
"She's got guts, I'll give her that," Vi said, her tone casual but tinged with curiosity.
Ivy scoffed, pacing her cell like a caged animal. "She's got nerves, more like. Walking in here with her clean boots and that holier-than-thou attitude, thinking she can make deals with me."
Vi tilted her head back against the wall, her gaze steady. "You agreed, though."
"Don't remind me," Ivy muttered, running a hand through her light hair. "I don't trust her. I don't trust you for seeming so okay with all of this."
Vi smirked faintly, shrugging. "What can I say? Caitlyn's stubborn, like you. But she's our only way out of here, Ivy. And she's actually willing to clear your name for good. You might hate Enforcers, as do I do, but trusting her might be our best shot." she chuckled "Who knows maybe she won't stab us in the back after all."
Ivy's eyes narrowed, her voice laced with venom. "I'll believe that when I see it. I've seen what Enforcers do when no one's watching. She's no different—just has a fancier badge and nicer hair."
Vi walked over to the corner of the cell, gripping the bars lightly. "Look, I get it. Trusting anyone in this line of work sucks. But if this works out? You could walk free. We could walk free. No more bars. No more running."
"And if it doesn't work out?" Ivy shot back, her voice sharp. "I could end up deeper in this pit—or dead."
Vi's expression softened, a flicker of genuine concern breaking through her usual tough facade. "You won't. Not while I'm around."
Ivy studied her words for a long moment, her anger tempered by something quieter, harder to pin down. "You really think this is worth it, huh?"
"I think it's a chance," Vi said simply. "And sometimes, that's all you get."
Ivy sighed, finally sitting down on her cot, though her arms remained crossed defensively. "Fine. But if this blows up in my face, Vi? You owe me. Big time."
Vi chuckled lightly, a wry grin tugging at her lips. "Fair enough. Just try not to kill The girl before we even get started, yeah?"
Ivy didn't respond, her gaze distant. The weight of the deal hung heavy between them, a fragile thread of hope tangled with distrust. Neither of them said it aloud, but both knew the stakes were higher than they were willing to admit.