23. Ava
23
AVA
L iam has always told me to stay put and leave the messy stuff to him.
And like an idiot, I actually tried this morning.
I paced the loft for twenty minutes, chewing my nails, jumping every time my phone buzzed. I made tea, then forgot about it. I turned on the TV but didn't register a single thing that played. And then I started imagining the worst.
Vanessa is ruthless. Liam knows that. She plays games with people's lives and smiles while doing it. And I might have put on a good show at the gallery, pretending to be vulnerable, but Vanessa? She's been doing this her whole life. She doesn't just manipulate people. She dismantles them.
And Liam, with his whole I can handle it attitude, was walking right into her trap.
That thought? That was my breaking point.
The last thing I needed was another tick tock message with a photo of Liam sprawled out somewhere, unconscious.
I was going.
And since charging in alone was an objectively terrible idea, I made the second stupidest decision of the day.
I called Ryan.
Of course, in retrospect, I should have started with Nate. The voice of reason. The calm one.
But I was in full-on panic mode, so I dialed the hothead first.
And now I'm paying for it.
Ryan answered on the second ring, his voice already wary. "Ava?"
"I need backup."
A beat of silence. Then, sharply, "Where are you?"
"Liam's loft."
His voice dropped into that lethal, protective tone—the one that meant someone was about to die. "Did something happen?"
"No, but Liam?—"
And that's where I lost him.
"Liam?" Ryan's tone turned acidic. "What did he do?"
I groaned. "Nothing! I mean—kind of—ugh. It's not about that. It's about Vanessa."
Silence. Then, with sharp understanding, "He's with her?"
I hesitated. "He went to meet her alone."
That was enough. Ryan didn't need more. I heard movement on the other end, keys jingling.
"Where?"
"Café Leclerc."
Ryan muttered something violent. "I'll be there in fifteen. Don't move."
I did, in fact, move.
And I made one more call.
Nate, who at least had the sense to ask, "Are you absolutely sure you want Ryan there for this?"
"No," I admitted, "but I also don't want Liam there alone."
Nate sighed. "Fine. I'm coming too."
Which is how I ended up speed-walking through downtown, heart hammering, dragging two very different but equally overprotective older brothers toward an extremely bad idea.
And as soon as we stepped into the café, I knew I'd messed up.
Because Liam was already mid-conversation with Vanessa.
And Ryan? Ryan saw red.
Which brings me to what's unfolding in front of my eyes right now.
Ryan moves before I can stop him.
One second, we're standing near the entrance of Café Leclerc, the ridiculous chandeliers glinting overhead, casting everything in an ironic golden glow. The next, Ryan is storming across the room, fists clenched, his entire body radiating the kind of rage that has gotten him into more bar fights than I can count.
Liam, to his credit, notices immediately. His shoulders tense as his gaze flicks past Vanessa to land directly on us. On me.
His expression shifts. Concern. Frustration. Something unreadable.
And then Ryan reaches the table.
"What the hell is going on?"
His voice cuts through the elegant murmur of conversation like a thunderclap. A few patrons glance over, some more discreet than others. A waiter—poor thing, no more than nineteen and clearly terrified—stops mid-step, his tray wobbling precariously. He takes one look at Ryan's murder glare and nopes right back into the kitchen.
Vanessa, of course, is utterly unbothered. If anything, she looks amused. She lets out a soft, delighted sigh, as if we've just given her exactly what she wanted.
"Oh, this is precious," she purrs, taking a slow sip of her drink. "Darling, are they always this emotional?"
Ryan looks like he's about to flip the table.
I shoot forward before he can do something catastrophic, grabbing his wrist. "Ryan. Not here."
His glare doesn't waver from Liam. "Are you kidding me right now?" His voice is a sharp whisper, barely contained. "You disappear for days, won't tell us anything, and this is where I find you? Sitting across from the woman who's been threatening you?" He turns the glare on me. "And you. What in hell's name is this?"
Liam, miraculously, remains composed. "I'm handling it."
Ryan lets out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "Handling it? You're having drinks with the psycho who's been trying to destroy my sister."
Vanessa sighs dramatically, swirling the last of her espresso like this is all a mild inconvenience. "Boys, boys," she chides, setting her cup down. "Can't we all just get along?"
Ryan takes a step toward her. "Say one more word, and I swear to God?—"
I shove a hand against his chest. "Ryan!"
Vanessa chuckles. "Relax, darling. No need for threats. I have no personal quarrel with you." She tilts her head. "Well. Not yet."
Ryan's entire body locks up like a steel trap. I physically feel the way his muscles tighten beneath my palm. His fists curl like he's two seconds from putting them to use.
Liam must see it too because, for the first time, his tone turns sharp. "Ryan. Not here."
Something in his voice finally breaks through. A warning. A command. Ryan exhales through his nose, his jaw still clenched, but he doesn't take another step forward.
Barely.
But now his attention is fully on Liam. "So, what, you think you can just handle this on your own?" He gestures to Vanessa. "You think she's not playing you?"
Liam's expression is unreadable. "I know exactly what she's doing."
Ryan scoffs. "Then why are you here?"
And this. This is the moment where I know everything is about to come out.
Liam knows it too. He closes his eyes briefly, as if bracing himself, then exhales. "Because Vanessa has been threatening Ava since the beginning."
Ryan flinches, just slightly. But his face hardens. "She what?"
Liam doesn't look away. "She's been sending photos. Messages. Messing with both of us, throwing our families into the mix. And?—"
Ryan turns to me, eyes dark with accusation. "And you didn't tell us?"
Guilt churns in my stomach, but I lift my chin. "I was handling it."
Ryan laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Handling it? Ava, you were lying to us."
I dig my nails into my palms. "To protect you."
"That's not your decision to make."
"Don't." Liam sighs. "I told her. It was all my idea. I told her to enter a fake relationship with me until we found out who was at the bottom of all this."
Ryan hisses. "You're not…" He looks between the both of us before scowling heavily at me. "What the hell, Ava?"
My throat tightens, but before I can respond, Nate—who has been eerily silent this entire time—finally steps forward.
"That's enough."
Nate looks between me and Liam. "We can fight about who should have told who later. Not the time or place."
Ryan glowers but falls silent.
Vanessa, of course, looks positively delighted by the dysfunction unfolding in front of her. She takes a slow sip of her drink, watching us like we're the most entertaining thing she's seen all week.
"Ah, the great Bennett family," she muses, setting her glass down with a soft clink. "Such a beautiful display of loyalty, trust, and—oh, what's the word?" She tilts her head. "Oh, right. Betrayal."
Ryan turns on her so fast, the chair next to him scrapes loudly against the polished marble floor. "I swear to?—"
"Ryan." Liam's voice is clipped.
Ryan stops, breathing hard, but he doesn't take a step closer.
Vanessa, undeterred, smiles sweetly. "Touchy, aren't we?"
Nate exhales like he's already over it. "Ignore her," he mutters. "She wants a reaction."
"Smart one, this one," Vanessa says lightly, flicking her gaze to Nate with vague amusement. "Always a pleasure to see someone in this family with a functioning brain."
Nate doesn't take the bait. He just watches her, calm, unreadable.
Vanessa sighs and stretches, rolling her shoulders. "Well, as much as I love family reunions, I have places to be." She pushes her chair back, standing gracefully, smoothing down her dress.
Liam moves immediately. "Sit down."
She arches a brow, unimpressed. "Or what, darling?"
His jaw tightens. "Or I make sure you never set foot in this town again."
She hums, tilting her head as if considering. "Oh, Liam." She exhales dramatically, like this is all such a hassle. "I told you, didn't I?"
She reaches into her clutch and pulls out a napkin—neatly folded, crisp. She places it on the table between us, her manicured fingers smoothing over the fabric.
"You should've stayed out of this, Carter." Her voice is light, almost playful. Then she lifts her gaze, her smirk as sharp as a knife. "Now it's going to cost you."
Liam's hand twitches, like he's seconds from snapping.
Vanessa's smile deepens. "Until next time, darlings."
And then… she's gone.
It happens so fast, so smoothly, that none of us react in time. By the time Liam pushes out of his chair and turns, Vanessa has already disappeared through the café's back exit, blending effortlessly into the early evening crowd.
I slam my hands on the table. "Damn it!"
Liam pulls out his phone immediately, dialing something, but I already know—she's covered her tracks. She won't be easy to find.
Ryan curses under his breath, rubbing his hands down his face. "I can't believe you dated this woman."
Liam ignores him, still scanning the restaurant, his jaw tight.
I snatch up the napkin she left behind, unfolding it with a sharp flick. My stomach twists at the sight of what's inside.
A single playing card.
The Queen of Spades.
I tighten my grip. "What the hell is this supposed to mean?"
Liam doesn't answer. His phone buzzes, and he glances down at the screen. His entire body tenses.
"What?" I demand.
He holds up the screen so I can see. A message from Tyler.
Andrew's been spotted heading toward Dean's construction site. You need to get there—now.
My stomach plummets.
Ryan and Nate both lean in, reading the text. Ryan's face darkens instantly.
"What the hell does Andrew have to do with this?" Ryan snaps.
Liam shoves his phone in his pocket and is already moving. "We're about to find out."