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“No.” “She won’t be there.”

Our synchronized response hangs awkwardly in the air. Viktor’s eyebrows rise slightly, his gaze sharpening as it moves between the three of us.

“Didn’t know you two were making her decisions now,” he says with a smirk. To Briar, he says, “Waters family’s never shown up for the fun stuff. Time to break tradition, maybe?”

Briar straightens, and I recognize the stubborn set of her jaw. Fuck.

“Maybe it is,” she says, her chin lifting slightly in that way I’m learning means trouble.

Viktor’s smile widens, clearly pleased with her response. “Perfect. Figured you’d be more interesting than your old man.” He slides his gaze to me. “Flint can show you the ropes. He’s been running this shit for years.”

“I’ll bet,” Briar says, something challenging in her response that makes my pulse spike.

Damiano is tensing beside her, and my own anxiety ratchets up another notch.

“Anyway,” Viktor says, checking his watch, “gotta bounce. Waters,” he says with a nod to Briar. “Looking forward to seeing you there. I’ll give you the VIP tour, show you what your daddy’s been keeping you from all these years.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Damiano cuts in, sounding cold.

Viktor’s laugh is short and sharp. “Still playing bodyguard, Ricci? Some shit never changes.” He tips his hat slightly. “Later.”

We watch him go to his Lexus, the tension between us building with each step he takes. Only when his taillights disappear down the winding road do I let out the breath I’ve been holding.

“Fuck,” I exhale. “That was?—”

“I’m coming tonight,” Briar states.

“Absolutely not,” Damiano growls, closing his hand around her upper arm. His grip isn’t painful, but it’s firm enough to make his stance clear. “It’s not happening.”

I step closer, boxing her in between us. “For once, I agree with him. No fucking way you’re going anywhere near The Vault tonight.”

Briar narrows her eyes as she looks between us. “Excuse me? Did I miss the part where I signed away my autonomy to you two?”

“This isn’t about autonomy,” I snap, dropping to a harsh whisper. “This is about staying alive. Viktor is fishing, and you’re about to bite the hook like it’s covered in fucking candy.”

Damiano’s expression darkens further. “He’sright. Viktor wants you there for a reason, and it’s not to show you a good time.”

“Let go of my arm,” Briar says quietly, her gaze fixed on Damiano’s hand.

He releases her immediately but doesn’t step back. “Briar?—”

“No, you listen to me.” She’s trembling slightly but gaining strength with each word. “I understand you’re trying to protect me. I even appreciate it. But treating me like I’m made of glass or too stupid to make my own decisions? That I don’t appreciate.”

I clench my jaw. “Nobody said you’re stupid?—”

“You didn’t have to,” she shoots back. “You’re both standing there making choices for me like I’m a child. I’m the one who killed Liam. I’m the one who has the most to lose if Viktor figures it out.”

Something in her words hits home, and I exchange a glance with Damiano. His expression is still thunderous, but there’s a hint of uncertainty now.

“It’s not up for debate.” She crosses her arms. “Viktor’s already seen us together. He’s already suspicious. And given how fast gossip spreads on this island, people probably already know the three of us are... whatever we are.”

“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t go,” I counter. “He’s looking for connections, and we’ve just handed him one on a silver fucking platter.”

“He’ll be doing that anyway,” she points out. “Atleast at The Vault I can see what we’re up against. Know thy enemy and all that.”

“This isn’t a fucking war strategy game.” Damiano rakes a hand through his hair. “These people are dangerous. Viktor is dangerous.”

“I know that,” Briar says, softening slightly as she places a hand on his chest. “But hiding makes me look guilty. Going makes me look curious.”