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“Minutes,” Z answers bluntly. “The moment we step off this plane, we'll be escorted to separate vehicles. He'll want to question each of us individually, look for inconsistencies in our stories. With Talon posing as your security, and considering his injury, he may let him stay with you.”

Talon leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “And once he confirms the evidence is real, you'll become his most valuable asset. The mother of his true heir, the key to his dynasty's future.”

“And his revenge against my grandfather,” I add. “He'll want to keep me close, use me as bait.”

Oz nods, his expression grim. “We’ll be cut off from each other.”

‘Which is why we need a fail-safe. A way to communicate when we're separated.” Z pulls out a box from his suit jacket, depositing on my lap. I open it to find a gold watch. Diamonds encircling the watch face.

“Let me,” Z offers, lifting the timepiece from its box and securing it to my wrist. The diamonds sparkle under the fluorescent lighting of the jet cabin.

“I mean it’s pretty, but how does a watch help me?” I peer up at Talon, who taps his watch meaningfully.

“These aren't just for telling time. They're encrypted and connected to each other through a private network Alex designed. Short text messages only, but they'll bypass Victor's security systems.”

“Assuming he doesn't confiscate them the moment we land,” I point out, my mind racing through contingencies. “Victor isn't stupid.”

“He'll search us,” Oz agrees. “Strip us down, take anything that could be used to communicate or as a weapon.”

Z's hand finds mine, his fingers interlacing with mine in a gesture that feels more possessive than comforting. “We've prepared for this. The watches look like standard luxury timepieces, Patek Philippe, nothing suspicious. A digital watch might raise his suspicions, but this will hopefully fly under his radar. Even if he has them examined, the communication function is buried deep enough that a standard security sweep won't find it.”

“And if that fails?” I press. “What then?”

Oz's lips curve into a cold smile. “We're his nephews, Vesper. Blood. He may hate us, but family means something to Victor. He won't kill us outright, not without cause. Not when he could use us against you.”

“That's not as reassuring as you think it is,” I mutter, anxiety churning in my stomach.

Talon checks his own watch. “Time to turn off the jammer.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the device. The green light disappears as he puts it back into his pocket. “So what do we do with the eight hours and change until we get to Russia?”

“I have some ideas,” I smile.

The way Talon's eyebrows shoot upward makes me laugh despite the tension coiling in my chest. “What exactly do you have in mind, princess?”

I lean back against the silk pillows, spreading my arms across Victor's bed with deliberate provocation. “When are we going to get this much time without someone interrupting us? I mean, you said we should give him a show.” I trail my fingers suggestively along the bedspread. “I say we do.”

"You want to give Sergei something to report back to my uncle?"

“Why not?” I challenge, reaching up to slowly unbutton the top of my blouse. “Victor already thinks I'm trying to seduce my way into his family. Might as well lean into the role.”

Oz watches me, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “She has a point,” he shrugs.

Talon moves first, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he locks the door with deliberate finality. The click echoes in the suite like a promise.

“Always the pragmatist,” Talon says as he shrugs out of his jacket with fluid grace. The motion pulls at his injured shoulder, but the flicker of pain is quickly buried beneath the calm composure he wears like a second skin. “Though I’m not sure Victor will appreciate us desecrating his bed.”

“That’s half the appeal,” I say, slowly working open my blouse, one button at a time. With each release, more skin is revealed, a quiet, deliberate invitation. I don’t rush. I want them to feel the weight of every second, to ache for what comes next. Three pairs of eyes track my movements, hungry, waiting.

“We’re heading straight into chaos,” I continue. “And I don’t know what’s waiting on the other side. What Idoknow is I want this. Tonight. With the men I love. Might as well join the mile high club while we wait.”

Zaire moves first, of course. Always the one who loses control for me. He grips my hand, halting the motion of the next button as he steps in close, his mouth inches from mine.

“You really think I’m going to let you say something like that and walk away untouched?”

I arch a brow. “Wasn’t planning on walking anywhere. We’re on a plane, remember?”

He crashes his mouth to mine, hot, hungry, claiming. His hand slides into my hair, the other locking tight at my waist as he drags me flush to him. The kiss turns hard and messy. It takes everything I have to pull away from him.

“Then let’s make sure you remember it,” he rasps.