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I struggle to remember the bits and pieces of information that everyone slammed into me today. All that sticks is how long Griffin and his brothers knew where I was. Or rather, where Brandon was.

We got to that broken-down apartment building in the middle of the night nearly a month ago, after moving around. His cash was running out, so someone found the abandoned building and next, I was tied up against a pipe in that basement while they built a cage.

But I won’t bemoan any of that and look weak to Ares. “Griffin doesn’t want to marry me any more than I want to marry him.”

“That is why it’s an arranged marriage. I agreed. He agreed.” Ares stands over me. “As soon as Troi died, and Griffin stepped in as head of that family, with word of a marriage deal, tensions calmed. And your abduction by Troi’s bastard finally ignited sympathy in their cold blue eyes.”

“Leave it to you to take advantage of that situation and milk it.”

“Leave it to me?” He fingers my crunchy, air-dried hair. “We have the same blood running in our veins.We’remore alike than you and Alexander ever were.”

I’m so tempted to ask him if he would have done what Alexander did, sent me away. Or hand me over. Oh yeah, he’s handing me over right now! “Whatever.”

“Battle lines are clearer than ever before. Those who openly mourn Brandon’s death will be taken out.”

“Can I—”

“No.”

“You don’t know what I’m going to ask.” Every second that I’m safe, warm, and in clean clothes, my strength comes back.

Ares steps back. “I’ll take the marriage deal off the table right now if you tell meto my facethat you weren’t going to ask ifyoucould take them out.”

I could lie, but he knows me. “Damn right, I want to take them out. They’re the reason I stayed abducted. All those loyalists.”

Ares smiles. “You belong to Griffin. If he says you can ride along and swing a bat, shoot a few rounds, blow a few heads off, be my guest.”

I scoff and look out the window at the pretty yard, doubting any of that will happen, no matter how cool Griffin is. My life is going to be planting daffodils to make table arrangements so I can serve my husband dinner wearing pearls.

Kill. Me. Now.

“I’ll talk to myfiancé,” I say, owning Griffin because I think it will anger Ares.

And... Yeah, that ticks my brother’s jaw. “I’m not sure if you’re playing with me, Ava. Let me remind you of that billion-dollar land deal.”

There’s a price tag on this peace. And I’m the collateral.

“How’s that going?” I figure I’d ask.

“It’s going, and we’ll leave it at that.”

“Because I’m a woman?”

“Because you’re an assassin and you don’t give a fuck about paperwork.”

“Finally.” I throw my hands up. “Take me home. Get me out of this. No one’s going to fall for the lovey-doveyWe Are Familyanthem.”

“That is where you’re wrong. The Irish aren’t bankers with Crypto accounts, taking selfies for their Instagram. These are salt-of-the-earth people who believe in loyalty, family, and promises. Ava, I stopped a war your brother died fighting.”

“Mybrother...” I shake my head.

“Blood isn’t running in the streets every morning from the gang violence overnight,” he keeps going. “It’s quiet. And I’m fucking tired. You will marry Griffin and—”

“Am I really safe?”

“From the Irish?” He looks around. “You’ve been here for an hour and you’re still alive.”

I’m ready to argue more, but Atlas and Ambrose walk into the solarium.