Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Too late.
Viktor Bastian emerges from behind a weathered stone angel, his massive frame blocking our path. The security earpiece is gone, replaced by a sleek black baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, but the intimidating presence remains.
“Well, well,” he says, deceptively casual. “Small island.”
Every instinct screams at me to put myself between him and Briar, but that would only make us look guilty. Instead, I force my posture to relax, keeping my grip on Briar’s hand firm but not panicked.
“Viktor,” I acknowledge with a nod. “Cemetery visit? Wouldn’t have pegged you for the sentimental type.”
He studies the three of us, taking in our linked hands, the easy proximity, the intimate bubble we’ve created. Something flickers across his face—curiosity, suspicion, or maybe calculation.
“Visiting old friends,” he says vaguely, then gestures at us. “This is... cozy. Didn’t realize you three were so close.”
Briar’s hand tightens in mine, and I squeeze back, hoping it conveys the message: don’t panic.
“Island’s full of surprises.” Damiano’s tone is neutral but his body is angled slightly in front of Briar.
Viktor’s gaze lingers on Briar, assessing her with cold precision. “Ms. Waters. Recovered from all the excitement, I see.”
“Just enjoying the evening,” she says with remarkable steadiness. “Fresh air does wonders.”
“I’m sure it does.” He flicks his attention back to me. “Don’t forget we need extra security for Heathens tonight. The summer crowd’s getting rowdy.”
“Already handled,” I reply, keeping my tone casual. “Everything’s set for ten.”
He nods, then turns to Damiano. “You’ll be there tonight, right? Locke was asking.”
Damiano shifts his weight, a barely perceptible tension running through him. “Of course,” he answers, carefully neutral. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Briar glances between us, her expression unreadable.
“Good,” Viktor says, something knowing in his expression. “And Ms. Waters? You coming to check it out?”
Before Briar can answer, both Damiano and I speak at once.
“No.” “She won’t be there.”
Our synchronized response hangs awkwardly in the air. Viktor’s eyebrows rise slightly, his gaze sharpening as it moves between the three of us.
“Didn’t know you two were making her decisions now,” he says with a smirk. To Briar, he says, “Waters family’s never shown up for the fun stuff. Time to break tradition, maybe?”
Briar straightens, and I recognize the stubborn set of her jaw. Fuck.
“Maybe it is,” she says, her chin lifting slightly in that way I’m learning means trouble.
Viktor’s smile widens, clearly pleased with her response. “Perfect. Figured you’d be more interesting than your old man.” He slides his gaze to me. “Flint can show you the ropes. He’s been running this shit for years.”
“I’ll bet,” Briar says, something challenging in her response that makes my pulse spike.
Damiano is tensing beside her, and my own anxiety ratchets up another notch.
“Anyway,” Viktor says, checking his watch, “gotta bounce. Waters,” he says with a nod to Briar. “Looking forward to seeing you there. I’ll give you the VIP tour, show you what your daddy’s been keeping you from all these years.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Damiano cuts in, sounding cold.
Viktor’s laugh is short and sharp. “Still playing bodyguard, Ricci? Some shit never changes.” He tips his hat slightly. “Later.”
We watch him go to his Lexus, the tension between us building with each step he takes. Only when his taillights disappear down the winding road do I let out the breath I’ve been holding.
“Fuck,” I exhale. “That was—”
“I’m coming tonight,” Briar states.
“Absolutely not,” Damiano growls, closing his hand around her upper arm. His grip isn’t painful, but it’s firm enough to make his stance clear. “It’s not happening.”
I step closer, boxing her in between us. “For once, I agree with him. No fucking way you’re going anywhere near The Vault tonight.”
Briar narrows her eyes as she looks between us. “Excuse me? Did I miss the part where I signed away my autonomy to you two?”
“This isn’t about autonomy,” I snap, dropping to a harsh whisper. “This is about staying alive. Viktor is fishing, and you’re about to bite the hook like it’s covered in fucking candy.”
Damiano’s expression darkens further. “He’s right. Viktor wants you there for a reason, and it’s not to show you a good time.”
“Let go of my arm,” Briar says quietly, her gaze fixed on Damiano’s hand.
He releases her immediately but doesn’t step back. “Briar—”
“No, you listen to me.” She’s trembling slightly but gaining strength with each word. “I understand you’re trying to protect me. I even appreciate it. But treating me like I’m made of glass or too stupid to make my own decisions? That I don’t appreciate.”
I clench my jaw. “Nobody said you’re stupid—”
“You didn’t have to,” she shoots back. “You’re both standing there making choices for me like I’m a child. I’m the one who killed Liam. I’m the one who has the most to lose if Viktor figures it out.”
Something in her words hits home, and I exchange a glance with Damiano. His expression is still thunderous, but there’s a hint of uncertainty now.