Ephemeral

by evanlevan

The mix of curiosity and subtle challenge in Vi's eyes was almost overwhelming, drawing Caitlyn in like a moth to a flame. In a low, flirtatious tone that was almost a purr, Vi said, "You know, if you wanted to spend more time with me, you could've just asked, Cupcake." Caitlyn's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and she fumbled for a response. C-Cupcake!

32. Everyone's Solving the Problem

🎶: Shadow - Livingston

Samantha sat on the plush leather couch in her spacious room, her laptop open on the glass coffee table. Her secondary phone buzzed incessantly beside her, accompanied by a steady stream of emails and texts popping up on her screen. The fallout from last night's debaucherous party had spiraled out of control, and the damage control she had been dreading was now unavoidable.

"I need this video taken down immediately," Samantha said into her phone, her tone sharp and unyielding. "This isn't just bad press—it's a direct attack on my family's name too."

On the other end of the line was a HexGram executive named Jordan Price, his clipped responses more frustrating than reassuring. "We understand your concerns, Ms. Tariost," Jordan began, his voice a mix of practiced diplomacy and underlying tension. "However, we're currently experiencing technical difficulties on our end. Someone—" he hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully, "—is attempting to breach our mainframe."

Samantha's brow furrowed, her frustration flaring into disbelief. She leaned forward, her voice rising. "You're being hacked?" she asked incredulously, each word dripping with skepticism. "Are you seriously telling me that a billion-dollar company like HexGram can't keep its own system secure?"

Jordan exhaled audibly on the other end, the tension in his voice more evident now. "We're doing everything in our power to contain the situation, Ms. Tariost," he replied, his tone edging toward defensive. "Our security team is working around the clock, but this isn't your average breach."

Samantha bit down on her lip, forcing herself to swallow the litany of expletives she wanted to hurl at Jordan. Instead, she forced out a clipped, "Thanks for the update, Mr. Price," her voice laced with the barest hint of civility. Useless prick, she thought as she ended the call with a tap of her finger, resisting the urge to slam her phone onto the table.

She sat still, staring at the phone on the table like it might sprout legs and fix everything for her. Her mind raced, spiraling through a Rolodex of names and faces—people who owed her favors, people she could pressure, people who might have just enough pull to get this mess under control. But with every name, a reason to dismiss them followed. Too risky. Too out of their depth. Too damn unreliable.

She let out a frustrated sigh, raking a hand through her hair. There was only one name left, one option she'd been avoiding for reasons that were both personal and professional. But now? Now she was out of moves.

Jayce.

The thought of calling him made her stomach tighten. He'd always been so damn fucking annoying—charming in the way that only a person who knew they were brilliant could be, and just as arrogant. But there was no denying it: Jayce Talis had climbed his way to the top of Runeterra's tech world. If anyone had the resources, the connections, and the sheer audacity to fix this, it was him. And anything to do with Caitlyn, he would be more than willing to help.

She picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over his contact. The number hadn't changed in years. Of course it hadn't. She sighed again, this one quieter, resigned. "Well," she muttered, almost to herself, "if he's such a big shot now, let's see if he can actually do something useful for once."

With a deep breath, she tapped the screen, listening to the dial tone echo in her ear. If this went sideways, she'd regret it. But if it worked? If it worked, she'd owe Jayce a drink—and probably a few sarcastic remarks to keep him from getting too smug about it.

-୨ ୧-

Jayce was halfway through debugging a new program when his phone buzzed on the desk, Samantha's name flashing on the screen. He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It was only mid-afternoon, but the day was already testing his patience, and answering Samantha's calls was like signing up for a whole new level of stress. With a resigned sigh, he picked up.

"Sam," he said, leaning back in his chair. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Or is this one of those calls where I end up regretting picking up?"

"Oh, you'll regret it. That video is still up, Jayce," Samantha snapped, her words sharp enough to cut glass. "The entire internet is blowing up, and HexGram's IT department is... let's just say hopeless. I need you to handle this. Now."

Jayce frowned, leaning back in his chair. "What video? You're going to have to be a little more specific here, Sam."

There was a beat of silence on the other end, and Jayce could practically hear her grinding her teeth. "You mean to tell me you haven't seen it?" Sam asked, her voice dangerously low.

"No, Sam," he said, dragging a hand through his hair. "Unlike the rest of the internet, I've been buried in actual work all day. Why don't you go ahead and fill me in?"

Samantha sighed, the kind of exasperated sound that made Jayce instantly regret asking. "Fine. Someone leaked footage from my party last night—something... private. It's gone viral. And it's bad, Jayce. Really bad."

"Define 'bad,'" Jayce said cautiously, narrowing his eyes.

"It's not something I can explain over the phone," she said, her tone clipped. "Let's just say it involves Caitlyn and... someone Cassandra Kiramman would highly like send someone to assasinate in her sleep. People are already twisting into all kinds of narratives. The headlines write themselves, and none of them are good."

Jayce's eyebrows shot up. "Caitlyn? Our Caitlyn?"

"Yes, OUR Caitlyn," Samantha snapped. "And before you ask, no, I'm not going to tell you exactly what's in the video. Just know that it's enough to cause a PR nightmare for Cait and, by extension, her family. If it doesn't come down soon, her mother is going to have a fit, and Piltover's elite are going to have a field day."

Jayce leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "Okay, so someone leaks a video involving sprout, it goes viral, and now the internet's having a feeding frenzy. Got it. But why am I getting the call? Shouldn't HexGram be handling this?"

"I told you! HexGram is useless," Samantha bit out. "Their IT team couldn't stop a leak if it were a broken faucet. I need someone who can actually get results. That's you, Jayce."

Jayce sighed, pulling up a diagnostic program on his laptop. This wasn't exactly the relaxing afternoon he'd had in mind, but when did Samantha ever call with something easy? "Alright, first thing's first—I'll work on getting the video pulled. But if someone leaked this, it's not just about deleting the post. Do we know who took it?"

"If I knew, would I be calling you?" Sam said quickly, eyerolling. "But the video comes down first, no matter what."

"Of course it does," Jayce muttered, his fingers already flying across the keyboard. "By the way, does Cait knows you're calling me?"

Samantha hesitated. "No. But she's... aware of the video," she said carefully.

"'Aware'?" Jayce repeated, his voice rising. "Sam, what does that mean? Is she freaking out? Is Cassandra already breathing down her neck?" Jayce leaned back, a crooked grin spreading across his face. "I mean, we're talking about Cassandra Kiramman. For all we know, she's already seen the video and ordering the enforcers to burn down Piltover." He paused, then added with a smirk, "Honestly, I'm surprised she hasn't burst through your door yet."

Samantha groaned audibly, her frustration practically radiating through the phone. "Oh, ha-ha, very funny, Jayce. This is why I called you," Samantha said. "Because you can fix this. You can get the video down fast, find out who leaked it, and make sure this doesn't blow up any further."

"Right, no pressure," Jayce said dryly. "Anything else while we're at it?"

"Actually, yes," Samantha said, her voice taking on that suspiciously sweet tone that immediately put Jayce on edge.

"Oh, here we go," he muttered. "What is it?"

"I need you to talk to Mel," Samantha said.

Jayce frowned. "Why do I need to talk to Mel? What does she have to do with this?"

"Mel can talk to Cassandra," Samantha said. "If anyone can convince Cassandra to stop riding Cait so hard, it's your new bride."

Jayce blinked. "Wait. You want me to ask my wife to talk to Cassandra Kiramman about being nicer to Cait?"

"Yes," Samantha said flatly, as though it were the most natural request in the world.

Jayce leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a groan. "Sam, do you have any idea how that conversation's going to go? Mel's going to laugh me out of the room. She's probably going to text Cassandra about it while she's laughing."

"Then make her laugh," Samantha said smoothly. "And while you're at it, tell her I said hi. Oh, and one more thing—Caitlyn's still mad at you for not inviting her to the wedding, by the way. Consider this your chance to get back into her good graces."

Jayce's jaw dropped. "Wait, Caitlyn's mad at me? That wasn't even my call! It was a small wedding!"

"Doesn't matter," Samantha said, completely unmoved. "Fix this, Jayce. You've got two birds here—don't miss the stone."

Jayce dropped his head back, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah, sure. No problem. I'll just solve a PR crisis, trace a hacker, and mediate Kiramman family drama via my wife. Totally doable."

"Glad we're on the same page," Samantha said, her voice almost cheerful now. "Let me know when it's handled. Bye!"

Jayce groaned as the call ended, staring at his phone like it had just insulted him. "Perfect. Just perfect," he muttered, tossing it onto the desk. He leaned back in his chair, throwing his hands in the air for added dramatic flair.

"Jayce Talis," he grumbled to himself, spinning his chair lazily, "the greatest mind in Hextech and information technology. Inventor. Visionary. The guy who literally powered a city. And what am I doing? Chasing down viral videos like I'm some overpaid IT guy at a startup."

Just as he was mid-spin, his phone buzzed again. Without thinking, he glanced at the screen—Sam. He groaned, swiping open the message. It was short, sharp, and completely on-brand:

Stop moping, Talis. Fix the video, or I'm calling Mel directly.

Jayce stared at the message, slack-jawed. "Are you serious?" he muttered. He held the phone up like she could hear him through sheer force of will and yelled, "I'M WORKING ON IT!"

-୨ ୧-

Ekko leaned forward over his desk, the glow of multiple monitors reflecting in his tired eyes as his fingers flew across the keyboard. Lines of code scrolled faster than most people could read, but Ekko wasn't most people. He thrived in the chaos of ones and zeroes, threading them together like strands of time itself. Beside him, Powder sat cross-legged on the floor, her laptop balanced on her knees, blue hair sticking out in every direction as she chewed absently on a pencil.

Still, as much as he was good at this, he couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration. This wasn't how he wanted to spend his afternoon. If it were up to him, he'd be building something instead of sitting here, hunched over his screens like a tech zombie. He missed the satisfying weight of tools in his hands, the smell of solder and metal, the way an invention came together piece by piece, alive in a way code never could be. But, of course, when trouble came knocking, it wasn't a new gadget people wanted from him—it was this. The digital sleight of hand. The hacker. The fixer. Yeah, he could do both, but this? Sitting here while his legs cramped and his eyes burned? Not exactly his idea of fun.

"Anything yet?" she asked, her voice muffled as she bit down on the pencil's eraser.

"Not yet," Ekko muttered, his brow furrowed. "Whoever leaked this thing didn't just post it and done deal. They erased their digital footprint—like, deep."

"Deeper than your ego?" Powder quipped, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin.

"Pow, this is serious," Ekko shot back, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "If we don't figure out where this came from, Vi's girlfriend is screwed. …And probably Vi too."

Powder sighed, leaning back against the edge of his desk. "I know, I know. I'm just saying, whoever did this? They're not your garden-variety script kiddie. This is pro-level stuff."

"Yeah, no kidding," Ekko muttered, his fingers pausing briefly as he scanned the screen. "I've been chasing loops for an hour now. Every time I think I've got a lead, it reroutes through another proxy."

Powder groaned, chewing the end of her pencil. "And don't even get me started on HexGram," she muttered. "They're so busy trying to lock their system down, it's like they're throwing firewalls at us instead of whoever actually did this."

Ekko smirked, glancing at her over his monitor. "Well, technically, we are hacking into HexGram," he said, his tone teasing. "So, you know... we're kind of the 'us' in this situation."

Powder rolled her eyes, waving a hand dismissively. "Yeah, but we're the good hackers. They should be thanking us, not throwing virtual bricks at our heads."

"Right," Ekko said with a laugh, turning back to his screen. "Because every big corporation loves a couple of rogue hackers digging around in their systems. I'm sure we'll get a thank-you card any minute now."

"Maybe with a fruit basket," Powder said, her lips twitching into a grin. "You think they'll spring for the kind with the chocolate-covered strawberries?"

Ekko snorted. "If we survive their next firewall, I'll settle for them just not tracking us down and throwing us in jail."

"Pfft. Like they could catch us," Powder said, sticking her tongue out. "We're way too good for that."

Ekko shook his head, his smile lingering as he dove back into the code. "Let's just focus on breaking through this mess before HexGram gives up entirely and accidentally locks themselves out of their own system."

-୨ ୧-

🎶: Wash. - Bon Iver

Riven's breath hitched as she swung her legs over the side of the chair, her bare feet hitting the cool floor. "Where the fuck did she go?" she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. She stood abruptly, her legs a little shaky beneath her. Her gaze darted around the room, scanning for any clue, any sign that might tell her where Yuna had gone. Nothing. Just the empty bed and the faint indentation where Yuna had been sleeping.

Her stomach twisted, but not entirely from panic. The remnants of the dream still clung to her. What the hell was that? she thought, her mind racing. It had felt so real—too real. The heat of Yuna's body beneath hers, the way her touch burned through her like wildfire, the sound of her name whispered like a prayer. Riven rubbed the back of her neck, the tips of her ears tingling as flashes of the dream replayed, uninvited, in her head.

Fuck. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the images away. But it didn't feel like just a dream. Her chest tightened as she remembered the way Yuna's lips had felt against hers, soft and desperate. It had been intoxicating, consuming. And now it was haunting her. Why am I even thinking about this? It doesn't mean anything. It's not like— Her thoughts tripped over themselves. No. Don't even finish that sentence. It was just a dream, a messed-up, stupid dream. End of story. But even as she told herself that, she felt her heart give a traitorous little kick. The dream wasn't just about sex—it was the way she'd felt in it. Safe, wanted, like all the jagged edges of her life had momentarily smoothed out. That was what scared her most.

The soft click of the door opening snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. Her head jerked toward the sound, her gaze flicking to the doorway. Yunarin stood there, a plate of food in her hands, her dark eyes widening slightly as she froze in place. Her hair was a little messy, her loose shirt slightly wrinkled, since when did she change? but she somehow looked effortlessly put together in a way that made Riven's chest tighten all over again.

"Oh," Yuna said softly, her voice breaking the silence as her surprise melted into something softer. "You're awake."

Riven blinked, her throat suddenly dry as she struggled to pull herself out of her haze. "Uh… yeah," she managed, her voice raspier than she intended.

Yunarin stepped into the room cautiously, like she wasn't sure if Riven would bolt at any second. "I, um… thought you might still be sleeping," she said, glancing down at the plate in her hands. "I went to grab some food. Didn't want to wake you."

Riven's gaze flicked to the plate—toast, some fruit, and what looked like scrambled eggs. Her stomach gave a faint, traitorous growl, and she cursed herself for zoning out so hard she hadn't even realized she was hungry.

Yunarin hesitated, her lips curving into a faint, slightly awkward smile. "I made enough for two… if you're hungry."

Riven blinked again, her thoughts still catching up with the present. The dream, the empty bed, the sound of Yuna's voice—it all blurred together in her head, leaving her off balance. "Yeah," she said finally, her voice low. "Yeah, I… could eat."

Yuna smiled more fully at that, stepping further into the room and setting the plate down on the small table near the bed. "Good," she said simply, sitting on the edge of the bed like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Riven stayed rooted to the spot for a moment, her green eyes fixed on Yuna as a thousand unspoken thoughts churned in her head. Finally, she forced herself to move, crossing the room and dropping into the chair she'd been sitting in earlier. "Thanks," she muttered, her voice softer than she meant it to be.

Yuna glanced at her, her expression gentle as she tilted her head slightly. "You okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

Riven hesitated. "Yeah," she said after a beat. "Just… didn't realize you'd left."

Yuna's gaze softened, her lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. "Didn't go far," she said simply.

Riven's chest tightened again, but this time, it wasn't panic. It was something warmer, something she wasn't quite sure what to name. Can't be love, I don't know her. She nodded once, her gaze dropping to the plate of food as she reached for a piece of toast. "I've never had a girl bring me food aside from the maids."

The words left her mouth before her brain had time to stop them. As soon as they hit the air, Riven froze, her eyes widening slightly. Did I just say that out fucking loud? Her mind scrambled to process what had just happened, but the answer was obvious—yes. Yuna heard her loud and clear, because her head tilted slightly, her lips curving into an amused smile.

Then she just… laughed, the sound soft and melodic, like the gentle chime of a bell carried on a breeze. It caught Riven off guard, made her pause mid-motion, her toast forgotten in her hand. For a moment, she just looked at Yuna, utterly transfixed by how easily that sound filled the room. Yuna's laughter grew, bubbling over until she was laughing so hard that tears began to well up in the corners of her eyes. She brought a hand up to wipe one away, but before she could, Riven moved instinctively. She stood, leaning forward across the small table between them in a heartbeat.

Riven's hand reached out, her thumb brushing gently against Yuna's cheek, wiping away the tear that had begun to slip down. Her touch lingered longer than it needed to, her palm cupping Yuna's face as her fingers rested against her jaw. Yuna stilled under her touch, her laughter quieting into a soft, warm hum that filled the silence between them. Yuna didn't move away, didn't flinch or shift. Instead, she leaned slightly into Riven's hand, her dark eyes locking onto green ones, her smile soft but unwavering. She let out a quiet laugh, a sound that was more breath than anything else, and just stayed there.

A heavy mix of longing and sadness coiling in her stomach, Riven brushed her thumb against Yuna's cheek again, slower this time, like she was committing the feeling to memory. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

"I'm not good for you," Riven said quietly. I won't subject you to the scrutiny of my family.

Yuna didn't move, didn't look away. Her gaze softened even further, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she just looked at Riven, her hand gently lifting to cover Riven's where it rested against her face.

"Maybe I'll be the judge of that," Yuna replied softly.

A series of loud, rapid thumping sounds echoed from outside the door, like someone was sprinting down the hall. Before either of them could process what was happening, the door burst open, slamming against the wall with a dramatic bang.

Riven jerked her hand away from Yuna's face, both of them spinning toward the intruder as Seraphine stumbled into the room, bent over and huffing like she'd just run a marathon. Her bright pink hair was slightly frazzled, and she clutched the doorframe for support, gasping for breath like she was seconds from passing out.

"SNAKE EYES HAS NEWS!" Seraphine wheezed, dramatically pointing toward the hallway.

Riven opened her mouth to retort but caught herself, glancing back at Yuna instead. The softness of the previous moment had been replaced by tension, and Riven felt it keenly, like a weight pressing against her chest. "We'll finish this later," Riven said quietly, her green eyes meeting Yuna's for a brief moment.

Yunarin gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod.

-୨ ୧-

🎶: Something Wicked - KELSON

"It's a street-engineered drug," Cassiopeia drawled, her voice smooth and deliberate, the words rolling off her tongue like silk. "Highly adaptable. It can change forms—liquid, solid, even gas." She paused, her gaze sweeping over the room like she was savoring the tension hanging in the air. "It could have been laced into the drinks. Or," she added with a slight tilt of her head, "it could have been mixed into the air. All it takes is the right concentration."

Seraphine stiffened. "So, you're saying this… whatever it is… could have been anywhere?"

Cassiopeia's smile widened ever so slightly, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes. "Precisely. That's the beauty of it, isn't it? Ingenious in its versatility, though terribly inconvenient for anyone trying to figure out what happened."

"Convenient for whoever's using it, though," Vi muttered from the corner, where she was perched on a stool. "What's it even supposed to do? Make people hallucinate? Knock them out?"

Cassiopeia's gaze flicked over, her smirk softening into something closer to condescension. "Oh, it's far more sophisticated than that. Depending on how it's administered, it can amplify emotions, dull your senses, even cause memory gaps. A few drops in the right place, and you can rewrite an entire night. Like Rohypnol and GHB but more… unpredictable."

Loris felt his stomach churn, his fists clenching at her sides. "And this drug," he said slowly. "You're saying it could've been used at the party?"

"Could have?" Cassiopeia echoed, raising an elegant brow. "Darling, you're cute." She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand as her gaze locked onto Riven's. "Someone wanted to film chaos, and they got it. Now the question is… who?"

Riven's green eyes narrowed, her posture rigid as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. Her voice was cool, cutting through the tense air like a blade. "I'm assuming you know where it came from."

Cassiopeia's smirk didn't falter, if anything, it deepened, curling into something more wicked. She leaned back, her elegant fingers drumming lightly against the table. "Oh, Riven, darling," she drawled, her tone dripping with amusement. "I don't know where it came from. I know exactly who made it."

The room went still.

Vi leaned forward slightly, her fists resting on her thighs, her jaw tightening. "Then quit playing games and spill," she snapped, her voice sharp. "Who's behind it?"

Cassiopeia tilted her head, studying Vi with a look that bordered on predatory. "Oh, I'll tell you," she said, her tone teasing, almost playful. "But where's the fun in giving you all the answers without a little… incentive?"

Riven's jaw clenched, her patience wearing thin. "This isn't a game, Du Couteau," she said, her voice low, laced with warning. "If you know who's behind this, you're going to tell us. Now."

Cassiopeia laughed softly, the sound carrying a devilish edge. "You're adorable when you're demanding," she said, her gaze locking onto Riven's with a flicker of intrigue. "But fine, I'll humor you. Let's just say… it's someone with very deep pockets." She paused, letting her words sink in, before adding with a sly smile, "You're looking for someone powerful. Someone who just loves to watch the world burn."

Riven's hands flexed at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as her mind raced. "A name," she said coldly. "I don't care about your riddles. Who. Is. It?"

Cassiopeia's smile sharpened, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "That's the thing about powerful people, Riven," she purred. "They don't leave their fingerprints behind. But I'll give you a hint—start looking at who had the most to gain from that party falling apart. Follow the trail, and you'll find them."

Caitlyn stepped forward, her voice cutting through the quiet like a razor. "Name your offer," she said. "And I'll see what I can do about it."

Cassiopeia's gaze flicked to Caitlyn, her smirk softening into something almost pleased, like a cat that had just been handed a saucer of cream. "Oh, Councilor Kirraman's precious daughter," she drawled, her tone dripping with false sweetness. "I was wondering when you'd step in."

Vi's head snapped toward Caitlyn, her eyes narrowing in quiet alarm. "Cait," she said, her voice low and wary.

Caitlyn didn't look at Vi. Her blue eyes stayed locked on Cassiopeia's. "You seem to enjoy playing coy," she continued, her voice like ice. "But everyone wants something. So tell me—what do you want in exchange for the name?"

Cassiopeia's smile widened, her satisfaction practically radiating from her as she leaned forward slightly, her hands clasping elegantly in front of her. "Oh, my dear, I like you," she said with a soft chuckle. "Straight to the point. No theatrics. It's refreshing."

She paused, tilting her head as if weighing her next words. "But as much as I appreciate the offer, Kiramman, this isn't something you can buy with money or favors. What I want…" She trailed off, her green eyes glinting with amusement as she stood gracefully. "...is for you to figure it out yourselves. Call it a test of your resourcefulness. After all, you're so capable, aren't you?"

Vi's jaw tightened, and her fists clenched at her sides. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered, glaring at Cassiopeia.

Before Caitlyn could speak again, Riven stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "I'll triple it," she said coolly, her green eyes narrowing as she locked onto Cassiopeia's gaze. "Whatever you think you're worth, name the price. I'll make it three times as much. Just give us the name."

Cassiopeia turned her gaze to Riven, her smirk softening into something far more dangerous. Her eyes flickered with interest, her lips curling into a slow, almost predatory smile. She let the silence hang for a moment, drawing it out like she was savoring the tension.

Then, with a low, sultry laugh, she took a step closer to Riven, her gaze never wavering. "Triple it, hmm?" she murmured, her voice dropping into something smooth and dangerously seductive. "Tempting. Very tempting. But, you know…" She trailed a finger lightly along the edge of the table as her smile deepened, her green eyes gleaming. "There's something I'd prefer more."

Riven didn't flinch, her expression remaining unreadable, though the sharpness in her eyes stayed locked on Cassiopeia. "And what's that?" she asked, her voice low, steady.

Cassiopeia tilted her head, her smile curling into something wicked as she leaned in just slightly. "I'd rather you bed me instead," she purred, her words lingering in the air like thick, black smoke.

The room froze.

Vi stiffened, her jaw dropping slightly before she caught herself, a strangled "What the fuck?" slipping out as she stared at Cassiopeia in disbelief. Caitlyn's expression didn't change, though her sharp blue eyes darted between Riven and Cassiopeia, her lips pressed into a thin line. Behind them, Yuna let out a small, audible gasp, her hand flying to her mouth as her ears turned a bright shade of red. Her wide eyes flicked nervously to Riven, then to Cassiopeia, then back again, like she wasn't sure if she was supposed to intervene or just quietly combust from secondhand embarrassment.

Riven, to her credit, didn't flinch. She didn't blink. But something flickered in her eyes—surprise, annoyance, maybe even amusement—but it was gone as quickly as it came. "I'm not playing your games, Cassiopeia," she said flatly, her voice sharp. "Name a real offer, or I'm done wasting my time."

Cassiopeia let out a laugh, soft and almost musical, but it carried an undercurrent of mockery. "Oh, Riven, you're no fun," she teased, leaning back slightly, her gaze still fixed on her. "Fine. If you're so desperate for answers, follow the trail I've laid out for you. You're resourceful enough. Maybe you'll find what you're looking for. Maybe you won't."

She straightened, smoothing her coat with a flick of her wrist. "But if you change your mind about my… other offer," she said, her voice dropping back into that seductive purr, "you know where to find me." With that, she stood gracefully, smoothing the folds of her coat as she turned toward the door. "Good luck, darlings," she said over her shoulder, her voice dripping with mock sincerity. "I'll be eagerly awaiting your progress."

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving the group behind in tense silence.

Samantha, who had been uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, suddenly let out a sharp breath. She looked up from her phone, her expression tight as she turned her gaze directly to Caitlyn.

"Bad news," Sam said flatly, her tone devoid of its usual sharpness. "Your mom is here."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Seraphine's mouth dropped into a dramatic "O," her pink eyes widening as she whipped her head toward Caitlyn. "OH, WE ARE ALL SO FUCKED," she exclaimed, her voice loud enough to echo off the walls.

Caitlyn took a deep, short breath. "Absofuckinglutely fucked."

END OF CHAPTER NINETEEN