Chapter 24 #3
“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Victor agrees. “Not when it comes to threats against people I care about.”
The gravity of it all hits me in the chest. The tangled web of my past intersecting with my present. Old wounds being opened up, new dangers threatening people I love. I feel exposed, vulnerable in a way that has nothing to do with physical safety.
A life I thought I’d left behind for good has not only followed me to Las Vegas, but it has infected my new life, threatening the happiness I’ve found with Victor and Lili.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “I never meant to bring this to your door.”
Victor shifts and uses his free hand to grip my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You have nothing to apologize for, Grace. Nothing.”
“But if I hadn’t…”
“No.” His voice is firm. That tone he uses when I’m not supposed to argue unless I want to be in trouble.
“You didn’t create this situation. You are not responsible for Sampson’s choices, or Kara’s for that matter.
And you are certainly not to blame for whatever connection may exist with Griffin Price.
The only people to blame are the ones making threats.
Period. This is another reason I didn’t want to share partial information.
I knew you would blame yourself. But this isn’t your fault, Mariposa.
Do you understand? I forbid you to blame yourself. ”
I want to believe him so I can shed the weight of the guilt that’s settled on my shoulders. But it’s not that simple. Not for me.
“We’ll figure this out,” Victor says, his tone full of promise. “Together. No more secrets. No more half-truths. Just you and me and Lili, facing whatever comes.”
“And Owen and Matteo and Luke and Tobias,” I add, the ghost of a smile finding me.
“The whole damn cavalry,” Victor agrees, his own lips quirking up slightly.
I look up at him, this complicated man who’s become the center of my world. “Anything else I should know? Any other bombshells waiting to drop?”
His face sobers. “No. That’s everything. I swear.”
I take a deep breath and step toward him.
His shoulders tense slightly, but he doesn’t move away.
I reach up and place my palm against his cheek, feeling the rough stubble beneath my fingers.
“Next time,” I say quietly, “I need you to choose trust before your protective streak kicks in. Not after. Not when you have all the answers or when someone forces your hand. From the beginning.”
His hand covers mine, pressing it more firmly against his face. “Grace…”
“I’m not finished.” My voice is gentle but firm. “You can keep me safe and tell me the truth at the same time. They’re not mutually exclusive, Victor. I need you to understand that.”
He turns his face slightly and presses his lips to my palm. “I do understand. Now.” His other arm wraps around my waist, drawing me closer. “I was wrong,” he says, his voice low. “About how to handle this. About what you needed.” His forehead comes to rest against mine. “I’m sorry.”
The simple words, spoken without qualification or defense, dissolve the last of my anger. Not because the hurt isn’t real, but because I recognize the genuine remorse behind them. The willingness to learn and change.
“I believe you.”
We stand like that, foreheads touching, for what seems like a long time. The silence between us isn’t tense, or heavy with unsaid words. It’s calming. It’s us finding our way back to solid ground together.
His arms tighten around me, pulling me fully against his chest. I go willingly, wrapping my arms around his middle, the steady beat of his heart keeping time against my cheek. His chin rests on top of my head, his breath stirring my hair.
In this moment, the club around us ceases to exist. The threats waiting outside these walls fade to background noise. It’s just Victor and me, finding our way.
“I was afraid,” he says after a while, his voice rumbling in his chest beneath my ear. “Not just of how you’d react to the news about Sampson. But of what it meant that someone from your past could hurt you so deeply. Someone I couldn’t protect you from because I wasn’t there.”
I understand his secrecy a little better now, and that eases any tension left in my chest. “You can’t protect me from my past, Victor.” I lift my head to look at him. “No one can. All we can do is face whatever comes next. Together.”
His hands come up to frame my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. “Together,” he agrees.
I pull back slightly. “We’re going to be fine,” I tell him. “But don’t ever hide things from me again.”
It’s not a request or a plea. It’s a boundary, clearly drawn.
Victor nods once. “I won’t.”
Two simple words, but I hear the weight of promise behind them.
“This doesn’t change how I feel about you,” I say, needing him to understand. “I’m not any less yours because I demand honesty.”
“I know.” His hands drop to my shoulders, then slide down my arms to capture my hands. “If anything, it makes you more so. Your strength. Your clarity. They’re part of why I…” He stops, swallows. “They’re part of why I love you.”
The words are still new between us, still feel vulnerable to say. I squeeze his hands anchoring us both, then stand up on my tiptoes to kiss him gently.
“We need to tell Lili everything,” I say. “About Sampson, Kara, the Griffin connection. All of it.”
“We will.” Victor lifts our joined hands, kisses my knuckles. “Together.”
I nod, grateful for that acknowledgment.
“We’re learning, Mariposa,” he murmurs as he tugs me toward the door so we can find Lili.
And that, I think, is all anyone can really ask for. Not perfection. Not infallibility. Just the willingness to learn, to grow, and to try again when we get it wrong. That willingness is enough.
With what’s coming for us, it has to be.