The Nixon name wasn't just a legacy. It was a leash.
Beautiful. Polished. But unforgiving.
And tonight, Raven had torn it clean off.
The Nixon Estate, Late Evening
The rain lashed against the windows like it wanted in, like the sky itself couldn't stand the quiet rage boiling inside the estate walls.
Mr. Nixon stood by the fire, his back stiff, one hand wrapped around a glass that caught the light like a weapon. Across from him, Raven stood tall - but inside, everything was cracking.
She had faced him countless times in silence. But never like this.
Never with the weight of what she now knew.
Never while mourning a love the world said should never have existed.
His stare cut across the room like a blade.
Mr. Nixon (coldly): "How long have you been lying to me?"
Raven's voice didn't shake. Not yet.
Raven (steady): "I didn't lie. I just… didn't want you to win."
He scoffed, the sound sharp and metallic.
Mr. Nixon: "Win? You think this is a game?"
Raven: "Isn't it? Isn't that what all this has always been? Rules I didn't write. Moves I didn't choose. And the moment I play a hand you didn't deal me, I'm the traitor."
Her father's jaw tightened.
Mr. Nixon: "You fell in love with your blood. That wasn't your hand. It was your weakness."
She flinched. Not because she didn't know. But because hearing it aloud made it undeniable.
Still, she stood her ground.
Raven: "It was love. That was all I knew. And yes, I had doubts - whispers in the dark, truths that never lined up. But I believed in what we had anyway. I let myself believe."
Her father stepped forward, voice low and venomous.
Mr. Nixon: "You let yourself destroy everything your family built. Do you even hear yourself?"
She blinked hard against the sting in her eyes.
Raven: "I hear myself clearly for the first time."
He moved to pour another drink, but the glass trembled in his hand. He didn't look at her when he said:
Mr. Nixon: "Do you love him?"
Silence.
And then:
Raven: "Yes."
He turned back to her, eyes cold.
Mr. Nixon: "Then you are a bigger fool than I thought."
At that moment, the study door creaked open.
Ryle.
Soaking from the rain, eyes hollow, but spine straight.
The instant her father saw him, something in the room snapped - like glass beneath weight it could no longer carry.
Mr. Nixon (low, lethal): "You dare come here?"
Ryle: "I didn't come for you."
His voice was steady, but Raven could hear the weight behind it.
Mr. Nixon: "You think you can protect her now?"
Ryle: "No. I think she can protect herself."
That silenced the room.
Raven stepped toward Ryle, heart pounding like a war drum. She didn't look at her father when she said:
Raven: "I'm not staying."
Mr. Nixon: "You'd leave everything behind for him?"
She turned to face him one last time.
Raven: "No. I'm leaving because of you. Because of every chain you placed around my life and called protection. I'm not your legacy. I'm not your pawn. I'm me."
A storm brewed in her father's eyes, but she didn't give it room to grow.
She reached for Ryle's hand and found it waiting. Together, they walked toward the door.
Mr. Nixon (sharply): "You walk out that door, Raven, and you're no longer my daughter."
She paused. Exhaled.
Raven (softly): "Then maybe you never really knew who I was."
The door closed behind them.
And the silence left in their wake was louder than any storm.