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I shake my head, but I smile despite myself.

The moment stretches, quieter now. Not heavy, just full.

Nate's expression softens. "You know, Ava… whatever happens tomorrow, you're not alone in this. Not with us, and sure as hell not with him."

A lump forms in my throat. I swallow past it. "I know."

"You scared?"

"Terrified."

He nods, like he expected that. "Good. It means you care what happens." He leans back, tipping his bottle in my direction. "Just don't let that fear make decisions for you."

I don't answer, but I don't have to. He knows.

Nate hops off the stool, stretching. "Alright, I'm going for a stroll and taking Dean and Ryan with me. I'll be back with burgers."

And just like that, he's gone.

I sit there for a moment, staring at the condensation sliding down the beer bottle, my thoughts swirling.

Fear is a funny thing. It makes the air feel thicker, makes the ground feel unsteady, makes the future feel impossible. But Nate's right. I can't let it make decisions for me.

Liam steps into the kitchen, his presence solid, grounding. He leans against the counter across from me, arms crossed, studying me like he's trying to read my mind.

"You okay?" His voice is quiet, but it cuts through the noise in my head.

I nod slowly. "Yeah."

He doesn't look convinced. "You sure?"

I exhale, looking down. "I just… what if something goes wrong tomorrow? What if Vanessa takes everything from us?"

Liam moves. He doesn't hesitate, just steps forward, closing the space between us, and pulls me into his arms.

It's not rushed. Not desperate. Just strong. Sure.

I bury my face in his chest, inhaling the scent of him—clean, warm, steady. His hand slides up my back, his fingers pressing into my spine like he's trying to anchor me, hold me together.

"I'm not letting her win," he murmurs against my hair. "Not this time."

I squeeze my eyes shut, gripping the fabric of his shirt.

"Promise?" I whisper.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his hand tilting my chin up. His gaze is dark, steady, unwavering.

"Promise."

I believe him. I do.

But believing and knowing are two different things.

The hours pass, and the unease begins to swell to an unbearable high. Tyler is still at his laptop, fingers flying over the keys as he pulls up security feeds and blueprints of the warehouse. My brothers come back with food. We eat, and then we get back to work.

Ryan paces like a frazzled hen, Dean broods, and Nate keeps tapping his knees.

I'm gripping my mother's bracelet so tight it might leave an imprint on my skin.