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And Ryan? Ryan saw red.

Which brings me to what's unfolding in front of my eyes right now.

Ryan moves before I can stop him.

One second, we're standing near the entrance of Café Leclerc, the ridiculous chandeliers glinting overhead, casting everything in an ironic golden glow. The next, Ryan is storming across the room, fists clenched, his entire body radiating the kind of rage that has gotten him into more bar fights than I can count.

Liam, to his credit, notices immediately. His shoulders tense as his gaze flicks past Vanessa to land directly on us. On me.

His expression shifts. Concern. Frustration. Something unreadable.

And then Ryan reaches the table.

"What the hell is going on?"

His voice cuts through the elegant murmur of conversation like a thunderclap. A few patrons glance over, some more discreet than others. A waiter—poor thing, no more than nineteen and clearly terrified—stops mid-step, his tray wobbling precariously. He takes one look at Ryan's murder glare and nopes right back into the kitchen.

Vanessa, of course, is utterly unbothered. If anything, she looks amused. She lets out a soft, delighted sigh, as if we've just given her exactly what she wanted.

"Oh, this is precious," she purrs, taking a slow sip of her drink. "Darling, are they always this emotional?"

Ryan looks like he's about to flip the table.

I shoot forward before he can do something catastrophic, grabbing his wrist. "Ryan. Not here."

His glare doesn't waver from Liam. "Are you kidding me right now?" His voice is a sharp whisper, barely contained. "You disappear for days, won't tell us anything, and this is where I find you? Sitting across from the woman who's been threatening you?" He turns the glare on me. "And you. What in hell's name is this?"

Liam, miraculously, remains composed. "I'm handling it."

Ryan lets out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "Handling it? You're having drinks with the psycho who's been trying to destroy my sister."

Vanessa sighs dramatically, swirling the last of her espresso like this is all a mild inconvenience. "Boys, boys," she chides, setting her cup down. "Can't we all just get along?"

Ryan takes a step toward her. "Say one more word, and I swear to God?—"

I shove a hand against his chest. "Ryan!"

Vanessa chuckles. "Relax, darling. No need for threats. I have no personal quarrel with you." She tilts her head. "Well. Not yet."

Ryan's entire body locks up like a steel trap. I physically feel the way his muscles tighten beneath my palm. His fists curl like he's two seconds from putting them to use.

Liam must see it too because, for the first time, his tone turns sharp. "Ryan. Not here."

Something in his voice finally breaks through. A warning. A command. Ryan exhales through his nose, his jaw still clenched, but he doesn't take another step forward.

Barely.

But now his attention is fully on Liam. "So, what, you think you can just handle this on your own?" He gestures to Vanessa. "You think she's not playing you?"

Liam's expression is unreadable. "I know exactly what she's doing."

Ryan scoffs. "Then why are you here?"

And this. This is the moment where I know everything is about to come out.

Liam knows it too. He closes his eyes briefly, as if bracing himself, then exhales. "Because Vanessa has been threatening Ava since the beginning."

Ryan flinches, just slightly. But his face hardens. "She what?"