Page 37

It takes everything in me not to stare.

Or worse, touch.

Because my hand is already resting at the small of her back, the press of her warm skin beneath my fingertips serving as both an anchor and a problem.

Ava shifts beside me, her head tilting slightly as she surveys the crowd. "You're tense."

I force myself to smile politely. "And you're enjoying this way too much."

"Obviously." She turns, her green eyes flicking up to mine, teasing. "You're not nervous, are you?"

I scoff. "For what? The overpriced art or the overpriced cocktails?"

"Neither," she says, voice softer now. "Her."

I suppress a sigh and glance around the room, taking in the carefully curated luxury—the glittering chandeliers, the murmured conversations, the quiet clinking of champagne flutes. Every guest here looks like they walked straight out of aForbesspread, dripping in wealth and power. And Vanessa?

She's nowhere in sight. I exhale, leaning in just enough that my lips brush Ava's ear. "I told you. I can handle her."

Ava's breath catches for half a second. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but I do.

Before I can pull back, her fingers brush against mine. "Then let's get to work."

And just like that, she straightens, slides her hand through my arm, and steps further into the gala like she owns the place.

Unfortunately, it takes Vanessa exactly five minutes to find us.

She appears like she always does—seamless, effortless, as if she were waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Dressed in ivory silk, her blonde hair sleek and straight, she looks every bit the part of the woman I used to know.

The woman I should have known better than to trust.

A slow, knowing smile stretches across her lips as she glides toward us, her gaze locking onto mine before flicking to Ava.

"Well, well," Vanessa purrs, saccharine sweet. "This is a surprise."

Trouble.

Ava shifts beside me, posture perfectly poised, her expression unreadable. I maintain my hand on the small of her back, solid and steady, just in case Vanessa decides to dig her claws in right away.

"Vanessa," I say, my tone just neutral enough to be polite.

Her eyes move between us, lingering on where my hand rests against Ava's bare skin. "It's been a while, Liam."

Not long enough.

I don't say that, of course. I just tip my head slightly. "It has."

She lets out a quiet chuckle, amusement flickering in her eyes. Then her gaze lands fully on Ava, sharp and knowing, her lips curling into a slow, deliberate smile. "And you must be Ava Bennett."

Ava doesn't flinch or hesitate. She meets Vanessa's gaze with the kind of confidence that makes me hold my breath. "I am."

Vanessa looks at Ava like she's examining a poodle and shakes her head slightly. "Wow. You are young, aren't you?"

Ava's smile doesn't waver. "And you are… not."

My lips twitch, but I bite back the laugh.

Vanessa arches a brow, clearly caught off guard. "Hmm." She sips her champagne, then turns to me, voice dripping with condescension. "Slumming it with a Bennett now, Liam?"