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Vesper leans forward. “Each of you gives me something different, something I need,” she continues, her fingers squeezing mine gently. “With Oz, it's understanding. With Talon, it's laughter. With Alex, it's...space to breathe. And with you, Z, it's safety. Protection. I need all of that. All of you.”

I swallow hard, fighting against the possessive instinct that's been my default for so long. “And that's enough for you? This...arrangement?”

She shakes her head. “It's about what makes me happy. And right now, having all of you in my life, in different ways, is what I want. The only thing I want, besides finding Luca.”

Something shifts inside me as I look at her—this fierce, beautiful woman who's somehow become the center of our fractured world. She's not asking for my permission or my blessing.

“Okay,” I say finally, the word feeling insufficient, but it's all I can manage. “Okay.”

Vesper's smile is like watching the sun erupt through clouds after a storm.

Oscar shifts beside her. I see the same understanding on his face that I've always counted on—my twin, my other half, knowing exactly what this costs me without a word being spoken.

“So, now that we've established this very modern arrangement, can we get back on track and focus on finding Luca?”

Alex drains the rest of his coffee and sets the mug down with a decisive click. “Sounds good to me. Let me grab my laptop.” Alex pushes himself off the couch and heads toward his room, his movements still showing traces of the exhaustion he's fighting.

I watch him go. This new understanding we've reached feels fragile, like a freshly formed truce that could shatter with one wrong move. She settles into Oz's side, her head resting against his shoulder as we wait.

Talon gives me a small nod of approval. Maybe he's right. Maybe this arrangement isn't as impossible as it seems.

The floorboards creak as Alex returns, but the moment I see his face, everything else fades. He’s clutching his laptop like a lifeline, fingers locked so tightly around the metal it looks as if he might crush it.

“They sent them,” he says. “The pickup instructions. They just came through.”

Vesper bolts upright, suddenly rigid with tension. “When? Where?”

“Tomorrow. 8 PM. Martha’s Vineyard. They've sent coordinates for a dock on the north side of the island.”

"That's not good," Oscar mutters, already on his feet. "The island is only accessible by boat or plane.”

“It’s not, but that’s not the biggest issue we have right now.”

Vesper stands, her body vibrating with a barely contained energy that mirrors my own. "Show me," she demands, moving to Alex's side to peer at his screen. Alex turns the laptop toward her, the screen illuminating her face in a harsh blue glow.

Congratulations on your acquisition. Sample LR-0723 will be available for pickup tomorrow at 20:00 EST. Coordinates attached. Buyer must be present to complete the transaction. Authentication protocols will be in place. Any deviation will result in immediate termination of the agreement. Storage container will be provided. Payment has been processed. This concludes our business.

“Buyer must be present," Talon repeats slowly. "Meaning Charles Blackwood. Me.”

“This feels like a trap,” I say, moving closer to examine the details.

“We don't know that,” Alex counters, setting his laptop on the coffee table so we can all see the message. “Think about it. At Vesper’s auction, all potential buyers appeared in person. It may just be their business model. You can’t dispute a transaction if the buyer picks it up personally instead of by courier.”

“But it's not just verification they're after," Oscar says, leaning forward to study the message more closely. "They're adding authentication protocols. They want to make sure Charles Blackwood is who he claims to be.”

“Which he's not,” I point out, the reality of our situation becoming clearer by the second. “He's a digital ghost we created.”

Vesper’s fingers curl around the edge of the laptop. “Can we fake it? Create some kind of physical documentation for Talon to present?”

“Possibly. But we'd need to know what kind of authentication they're planning to use. If it's just basic ID verification, we can handle that. If they're cross-referencing with other databases or contacts...”

“Then we're screwed,” Talon finishes bluntly.

“Not necessarily. Remember, Charles Blackwood has already shown up in person for a high-value purchase. This may just be a formality,” Alex continues, fingers already flying across the keyboard. “Sixteen million is a drop in the bucket compared to what they think we spent on Vesper. They'll be expecting the same face."

“But even if that's the case,” I interject, already seeing the next problem, “how the hell do we get there? Martha's Vineyard is an island. We don't own a boat or a plane.”.

“We could charter something,” Talon suggests.