Page 62 of All The Darkest Truths (Second Sons Duet #2)

“Yes, Miss Rossi," Talon adds, already on his feet. His expression is all business as he follows me toward the rear of the aircraft.

Sergei's lips thin slightly, but he steps aside. “As you wish.”

I feel Z and Oz watching us as we move toward the private suite at the back of the plane. The door closes behind us with a soft click, and Talon immediately begins a methodical sweep of the space, checking under furniture, running his fingers along moldings, and examining light fixtures.

The suite is opulent even by Petrov standards. queen-sized bed dominates the space, with burgundy silk sheets and pillows embroidered with gold thread. A small sitting area occupies one corner, complete with a private bar and entertainment system.

“Clear?” I ask quietly as Talon finishes his sweep.

He nods, holding up a finger to his lips before pulling a small device from his pocket. He activates it, waiting for the green light to blink before relaxing slightly.

“Signal jammer, courtesy of Alex,” he explains in a hushed tone. “It'll buy us maybe ten minutes before it raises flags with the flight systems. They'll think it's interference, but we shouldn't push our luck.”

I sink onto the edge of the bed, the silk sheets cool beneath my fingertips. “Did you see Sergei's face when I asked for the suite? Victor must use this room for more than just sleeping.”

“I don't want to think about what's happened on these sheets,” Talon grimaces, remaining standing with his back to the door. “Did your message get through to your grandfather?”

“Yes. He thinks I'm headed straight into Victor's lair to assassinate him.” I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming. “I invited him to join me there.”

A soft knock interrupts my spiral of worry. Talon immediately pockets the jammer

“Enter,” I call, slipping into the poised demeanor I’ve been rehearsing.

Z slips into the suite, his movements fluid as he closes the door behind him. “Sergei's watching,” he offers, crossing to sit beside me on the bed. “Figured I'd give him something to report back to my uncle.”

“How thoughtful,” I reply, loud enough to be heard through any listening devices. “Joining me for a private conversation about our future alliance?”

Z's lips quirk as he leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Something like that.”

The door opens again, and Oz slips in with the same fluid grace as his twin. He locks it behind him.

“Sergei is practically vibrating with curiosity,” he chuckles, moving to join us.

“Let him wonder,” Z remarks, shifting to make room for his brother on the bed. “It gives Victor something to think about besides our motives.”

Oz settles beside me, his thigh pressing against mine in the limited space. The three of us huddle together on Victor's bed.

“I swept for bugs,” Talon says, nodding toward his pocket where the jammer rests. “We've got a few minutes of privacy before the interference becomes too obvious.”

“We need to talk about what happens when we land,” I say, keeping my voice low despite Talon's assurance of temporary privacy. “Victor's not going to let us stick together once we're on his territory.”

Z's jaw tightens. “He'll separate us immediately. Standard protocol for anyone entering his compound, even family.”

“Especially family,” Oz corrects, his analytical mind already mapping scenarios. “He'll want you alone, Vesper. As soon as you hand over the evidence about your son and Bianca's deception.”

My stomach twists with anxiety. “How long do you think we'll have before he isolates me?”

“Minutes,” Z answers bluntly. “The moment we step off this plane, we'll be escorted to separate vehicles. He'll want to question each of us individually, look for inconsistencies in our stories. With Talon posing as your security, and considering his injury, he may let him stay with you.”

Talon leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “And once he confirms the evidence is real, you'll become his most valuable asset. The mother of his true heir, the key to his dynasty's future.”

“And his revenge against my grandfather,” I add. “He'll want to keep me close, use me as bait.”

Oz nods, his expression grim. “We’ll be cut off from each other.”

‘Which is why we need a fail-safe. A way to communicate when we're separated.” Z pulls out a box from his suit jacket, depositing on my lap. I open it to find a gold watch. Diamonds encircling the watch face.

“Let me,” Z offers, lifting the timepiece from its box and securing it to my wrist. The diamonds sparkle under the fluorescent lighting of the jet cabin.

“I mean it’s pretty, but how does a watch help me?” I peer up at Talon, who taps his watch meaningfully.

“These aren't just for telling time. They're encrypted and connected to each other through a private network Alex designed. Short text messages only, but they'll bypass Victor's security systems.”

“Assuming he doesn't confiscate them the moment we land,” I point out, my mind racing through contingencies. “Victor isn't stupid.”

“He'll search us,” Oz agrees. “Strip us down, take anything that could be used to communicate or as a weapon.”

Z's hand finds mine, his fingers interlacing with mine in a gesture that feels more possessive than comforting.

“We've prepared for this. The watches look like standard luxury timepieces, Patek Philippe, nothing suspicious.

A digital watch might raise his suspicions, but this will hopefully fly under his radar.

Even if he has them examined, the communication function is buried deep enough that a standard security sweep won't find it.”

“And if that fails?” I press. “What then?”

Oz's lips curve into a cold smile. “We're his nephews, Vesper. Blood. He may hate us, but family means something to Victor. He won't kill us outright, not without cause. Not when he could use us against you.”

“That's not as reassuring as you think it is,” I mutter, anxiety churning in my stomach.

Talon checks his own watch. “Time to turn off the jammer.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the device. The green light disappears as he puts it back into his pocket. “So what do we do with the eight hours and change until we get to Russia?”

“I have some ideas,” I smile.

The way Talon's eyebrows shoot upward makes me laugh despite the tension coiling in my chest. “What exactly do you have in mind, princess?”

I lean back against the silk pillows, spreading my arms across Victor's bed with deliberate provocation. “When are we going to get this much time without someone interrupting us? I mean, you said we should give him a show.” I trail my fingers suggestively along the bedspread. “I say we do.”

"You want to give Sergei something to report back to my uncle?"

“Why not?” I challenge, reaching up to slowly unbutton the top of my blouse. “Victor already thinks I'm trying to seduce my way into his family. Might as well lean into the role.”

Oz watches me, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “She has a point,” he shrugs.

Talon moves first, a wolfish grin spreading across his face as he locks the door with deliberate finality. The click echoes in the suite like a promise.

“Always the pragmatist,” Talon says as he shrugs out of his jacket with fluid grace. The motion pulls at his injured shoulder, but the flicker of pain is quickly buried beneath the calm composure he wears like a second skin. “Though I’m not sure Victor will appreciate us desecrating his bed.”

“That’s half the appeal,” I say, slowly working open my blouse, one button at a time.

With each release, more skin is revealed, a quiet, deliberate invitation.

I don’t rush. I want them to feel the weight of every second, to ache for what comes next.

Three pairs of eyes track my movements, hungry, waiting.

“We’re heading straight into chaos,” I continue. “And I don’t know what’s waiting on the other side. What I do know is I want this. Tonight. With the men I love. Might as well join the mile high club while we wait.”

Zaire moves first, of course. Always the one who loses control for me. He grips my hand, halting the motion of the next button as he steps in close, his mouth inches from mine.

“You really think I’m going to let you say something like that and walk away untouched?”

I arch a brow. “Wasn’t planning on walking anywhere. We’re on a plane, remember?”

He crashes his mouth to mine, hot, hungry, claiming. His hand slides into my hair, the other locking tight at my waist as he drags me flush to him. The kiss turns hard and messy. It takes everything I have to pull away from him.

“Then let’s make sure you remember it,” he rasps.

“I want to feel it tomorrow,” I shoot back, already reaching for the next button. “Every bruise. Every ache. I want Victor to see your marks on my skin like the badges they are. I want him to know that I may be coming to him to sell myself, but he can’t take away what we have together.”

Oz moves with a calm, dangerous precision that makes my pulse skip every time. He slips in behind me on the bed, rough palms sliding beneath the hem of my blouse to stroke bare skin, claiming territory inch by inch.

“If we’re giving Victor’s little spy a show,” he murmurs against my neck, breath hot and full of promise, “we might as well make it unforgettable.”

His mouth finds the spot just below my ear, tongue flicking, teeth sinking in. I gasp, hips twitching. At the same moment, Zaire’s mouth crashes into mine, devouring me. I’m caught between them—one branding my skin, the other stealing breath like it belongs to him.

My body lights up like dry tinder, nerve endings sparking, blood roaring.

Talon watches, still as a blade. Then he moves, silent and sure, sinking to his knees at the edge of the bed. His touch traces a path up my calves, deliberate, spreading me open as he pushes my skirt higher with maddening control.