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Gilbert steered the sedan to the front of the massive iron gates. Clusters of vampire aristocrats lined the way. The crumbled remains of Vivian’s former mansion stood behind a twelve-foot fence. And now that he knew the truth, Liam suspected Alistair had erected that fence to keep Vivian in as much as to keep unwanted guests out.

He eyed the property beyond the rusted barrier. Thick woods concealed a number of threats. Outside of Liam taking a bullet for her, there was no other way to protect her in this situation.

It was possible that’s what she wanted, to put him in the line of fire. After his recent near-death experience, he was far from eager to play the role ofshield. “Last chance to call this thing off, Viv. Armond can tell the crowd you were overcome by emotion and had to cry off.”

When she remained silent, he turned to find her staring out the window, eyes fixed on the pile of rubble that was once her prison, fingers gripping the armrest, porcelain skin gone panic-attack white. She breathed in a slow, deliberate way. Big breath in, big breath out. Like she was about to spew.

He took her hand. “Hey, you okay?” Shit. Maybe he’d been too hard on her. After all, it had to be difficult, her coming here. He doubted he could have done the same.

When she didn’t answer, he grasped her fingers and squeezed. “Viv, look at me.”

Torn between using her moment of weakness to drag her back home and helping her, he cupped her chin. When her eyes swung to his, wide and haunted, he knew what he needed to do.

He softened his tone. “Big iron gates are a hard limit for you, huh? Didn’t think the Black Widow had any weaknesses,” he taunted, and some of the steel inched back into her spine.

Good. Time to feed her some of her own medicine. “Tell me again why you’re here,” he ordered.

“To… To break ground on my women’s sanctuary.”

“That all?” He cocked a brow. “Seems to me you could have done that anywhere. Why here?”

Her jaw firmed against his hand. Fire sparked in her eyes. “Because I’m going to level this monstrosity once and for all. Scrape Alistair’s stain from the face of the earth and erect a haven in its place. Build a refuge that represents love, empowerment, and safety. All the thingsHecouldn’t hope to comprehend.”

“There she is,” he whispered, foreign emotions swelling his chest. “Thinking maybe you could use a safe word. You say Pumpernickel, and I’ll pull the plug on this whole deal. Toss you into the car and get you the hell out of here.”

Her lips curled. “Pumpernickel, huh? Be still, my kinky heart.”

Armond opened her door, eyed the death grip she had on Liam’s hand, and frowned. “Are you okay?”

Vivian jerked her hand from Liam’s as though she’d just realized she even held it. “Yes. Of course.” She smoothed her hair, sliding into her game face with the same ease she used to slide into a new pair of stilettos. The change in her was bitter-sweet. For a handful of minutes, he’d had a glimpse of the old Vivian. The one who had the freedom to show a bit of vulnerability.

It was the Black Widow who exited the car.

As Gilbert drove away,Liam positioned himself slightly behind Vivian. The tension he radiated had her own muscles knotting. He scanned the landscape as though he expected someone to jump them at any minute. She worried it wasn’t a false concern.

Dove was quick to join them, Armond following at a more sedate pace. Dove beamed, bouncing on her toes. “This is so exciting. What do you think of the banners I designed? Aren’t they glorious?”

Armond stood at her side. “I do believe our Dove has outdone herself this time.”

It was then Vivian took a moment to scan the gathering. She’d been so preoccupied when they arrived, she’d hardly paid attention.

Glowing torches illuminated the space. Attached to the front gates, red-and-black banners fluttered in the wind. Beside them was a small podium. Dramatic flower arrangements wrapped in sparkling lights sat on either side. Several large tents lined the sides of the driveway. Paper lanterns cast a warm glow over tables loaded with hors d’oeuvre and bottles of wine.

Vivian took Dove in a quick one-arm hug. “It’s perfect. You both did a wonderful job. It’s beyond my expectations.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Armond said, then got down to business. “Now, as far as the ceremony goes, I’ll first extend a welcome to our guests, then acknowledge our supporters. Next, I’ll share some of the construction plans. Then you will speak, sharing words of gratitude and optimism for the future.”

“After which, I’ll perform the ceremonial shoveling of dirt,” Vivian said with no small amount of disdain.

“Heavens no!” Her progeny clutched his imaginary pearls. “Vivian Laurent does not do manual labor. Instead, I’ve envisioned something with more flair. At the end of your speech, you will open the gates to the mansion. At that moment, a flock of ravens will soar into the sky.”

“Is that what that infernal noise is?” She glared at a bank of cages covered by a black cloth. Cackling sounds chattered within. The birds seemed restless. Perhaps stressed by their travels. Or was it something more?

“And the bulldozer?” Vivian asked, eyeing the massive machine sitting in the grass next to the driveway. Red-and-black bunting circled its hulking frame.

Behind her, Liam muttered, “Satan’s balls. They even decorated the bulldozer. Just when you think you’ve seen everything.”

She didn’t point out that he, too, had been dressed to coordinate with the dozer in his dark gray suit, black shirt, and—Goddess bless him—he’d even worn a red tie. The sight of that tie did terrible things to her libido.