Page 111 of Sinfully Yours

And then… she's gone.

It happens so fast, so smoothly, that none of us react in time. By the time Liam pushes out of his chair and turns, Vanessa has already disappeared through the café's back exit, blending effortlessly into the early evening crowd.

I slam my hands on the table. "Damn it!"

Liam pulls out his phone immediately, dialing something, but I already know—she's covered her tracks. She won't be easy to find.

Ryan curses under his breath, rubbing his hands down his face. "I can't believe you dated this woman."

Liam ignores him, still scanning the restaurant, his jaw tight.

I snatch up the napkin she left behind, unfolding it with a sharp flick. My stomach twists at the sight of what's inside.

A single playing card.

The Queen of Spades.

I tighten my grip. "What the hell is this supposed to mean?"

Liam doesn't answer. His phone buzzes, and he glances down at the screen. His entire body tenses.

"What?" I demand.

He holds up the screen so I can see. A message from Tyler.

Andrew's been spotted heading toward Dean's construction site. You need to get there—now.

My stomach plummets.

Ryan and Nate both lean in, reading the text. Ryan's face darkens instantly.

"What the hell does Andrew have to do with this?" Ryan snaps.

Liam shoves his phone in his pocket and is already moving. "We're about to find out."

24

AVA

The words are barely out of Liam's mouth before we're running to his car, headed toward the construction site where my brothers have been collaboratively working on their latest architecture venture.

Liam pulls the car onto the main road, the city lights streaking past in a blur of gold and blue. The streets are quieter now, the late hour thinning the usual congestion, but every red light feels like an eternity. His grip on the wheel is tight, jaw clenched, eyes flicking between the GPS and the road like sheer focus will make the car go faster.

I sit beside him, my heart slamming against my ribs, my stomach twisted into knots so tight I can barely breathe. Ryan and Nate are in the backseat, both tense, both simmering with barely restrained frustration.

No one speaks.

Because what the hell is there to say?

Andrew is heading to the construction site. Dean's construction site.

Out of the three Bennett brothers, Dean is the one who never left the family trade. While Ryan carved out a niche in tech startups and Nate jumped into finance, Dean stayed in the world of blueprints and steel beams, of callused hands and long hours. He took over Bennett & Sons, our father's old construction company, and built it into one of the most respected firms in the city. He's the kind of guy who wakes up at dawn, puts in fourteen-hour shifts, and still finds time to check in on his siblings—whether we ask for it or not.

And now, because of me, his name is tangled up in this mess.

My hands tighten into fists in my lap.

I glance at Liam. His profile is sharp under the glow of passing streetlights, his expression unreadable, but I know him well enough to see the tension in his posture, the way his fingers flex against the wheel like he's barely keeping himself from losing it.

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