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And holy hell, it's good.

The first bite is everything I need. The crispy crust, the gooey cheese, the perfect heat of jalapeño mixed with salty pepperoni. I groan, closing my eyes as I chew, savoring it.

Liam watches me, amused. "That good?"

"Shut up," I mumble around my next bite.

We eat in silence for a while, letting the stress of the night melt away. The pizza is absurdly delicious, and between the warmth of Liam beside me and the sheer relief of food after everything, I finally start to feel human again.

Halfway through my second slice, Liam glances at me. "So, are we going to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

He gives me a knowing look. "The fact that you were two seconds away from starting an all-out war with Vanessa Chase in the middle of the most exclusive gala in the city."

I roll my eyes. "She started it."

He snorts. "Yeah, but you were ready to finish it."

I sigh, setting my plate down. "I don't know what I was thinking."

Liam leans back, stretching his arms along the couch. "You were thinking that Vanessa's a manipulative piece of?—"

I lift a hand. "We both know what she is. But she got in my head tonight, Liam. I let her get in my head."

He exhales slowly, like he wants to argue but knows I'm right. "She plays dirty."

"She wins dirty," I mutter. "And I let her make me doubt you."

His expression flickers.

I swallow, picking at the crust of my pizza. "She said I didn't really know you."

Liam doesn't respond immediately, and I force myself to keep talking before I lose my nerve.

"It just… it made me realize how impulsive I am," I admit. "I throw myself into things without thinking, and I want to believe I trust my instincts, but what if she's right? What if I don't know you the way I think I do?"

Liam is silent for a long time. Then, quietly, he says, "I don't want you to doubt me, Ava."

Something shifts in the space between us.

I look at him, at the man who has spent weeks protecting me, challenging me, teasing me, wanting me. And I realize I don't want to doubt him, either.

I take a breath. "Then don't give me a reason to."

Liam's lips press into a thin line, like he wants to say more, but instead, he just nods. It's not a promise, but it's something.

We fall back into easy conversation, talking about everything except the arrangement, except what happens after tonight. I tell him about Ryan almost setting the house on fire the first time he tried to grill steaks, and he tells me about the time Dean had to bail him out of trouble when they were nineteen. We laugh, we eat, we exist in this strange, comfortable bubble, and for a little while, it's enough.

But then…

My phone buzzes.

I almost ignore it, almost let it sit there on the table while I stay tucked up against Liam, warm and full and pretending that this whole thing is real.

But the second I glance at the screen, my blood turns to ice.

A text, and of course, its from an unknown number.