The idea of freedom had never felt so dangerous.
Ryan stood by the doorway, his fists clenched at his sides as Leo's plan echoed in his mind—a road trip across the breathtaking Italian countryside. It sounded like escape… like peace.
But in this house, nothing came without a price.
He already knew the truth.
His aunt would never allow it.
Not when she looked at him with that quiet hatred, as though his very existence was a burden she had never agreed to carry.
So, he chose the only path left.
His uncle.
"Uncle… I'm going on a trip," Ryan said, forcing his voice to stay steady. "With my friend."
Across the room, Zavian slowly lowered his newspaper. His sharp eyes locked onto Ryan, unreadable, calculating.
"A trip?" he repeated, his tone calm—but too calm. "What do you mean, Ryan? Where exactly are you going?"
Ryan's throat tightened.
Careful. One wrong word could ruin everything.
"We're just travelling to the countryside," he replied, swallowing the tension rising in his chest. "We'll be back in a few days."
Silence stretched between them.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Then—
"Let him go."
The voice cut through the air like a blade.
Ryan froze.
Zavian turned sharply. "Why?"
Ingrid stepped forward, her expression composed, but her eyes… her eyes held something deeper. Something unreadable.
"He's no longer a child," she said coolly. "He's Eighteen years old"
For a moment, no one spoke.
Ryan's heart pounded.
This wasn't right.
She hated him.
So why now?
Zavian exhaled slowly, as though weighing something far beyond the request itself.
"Fine," he said at last.
Ryan's breath caught.
"You can go… but be careful." His voice hardened slightly. "There are dangerous people out there. Street gangsters. Fighters. Not everyone you meet will be kind."
"I will, Uncle," Ryan replied quickly. "Thank you… thank you so much."
But even as the words left his mouth, unease settled deep in his chest.
Because this victory…
Felt wrong.
As he turned to leave, his gaze flickered back to Ingrid.
She was watching him.
Not with anger.
Not with hatred.
But with something far more terrifying—
A quiet, knowing look.
Ryan's stomach tightened.
For the first time, the trip didn't feel like freedom.
It felt like the beginning of something he wouldn't be able to escape.