Page 67 of Sinfully Yours

Another buzz.

He sighs, rolling over just enough to grab the phone, squinting at the screen. The second he sees who it is, his expression sharpens.

Tyler.

I prop myself up on my elbow as he answers. "Yeah?"

A pause.

Liam swings his legs off the bed, rubbing his jaw as he listens. His entire posture shifts, his easy, sleep-heavy energy replaced by something tense, something sharp.

"Are you sure?" he asks, voice low.

I sit up fully, watching him. "What's going on?"

Liam's gaze flickers to mine, something unreadable in his expression. Then he nods once and ends the call.

"Tyler thinks the trap could work," he says, tossing the phone onto the nightstand. "But there's something we need to do for it to work."

Of course there is.

I raise an eyebrow. "What's that?"

He exhales. "We have to go to a gala."

I blink. "Excuse me?"

"Charity event. North Hill." He runs a hand through his hair. "One of the most exclusive events in the city."

I stare at him. "And how, exactly, is this supposed to help us?"

Liam frowns at me. "Because our mystery texter won't be able to resist."

I shake my head. "I don't?—"

He leans in, his voice dropping. "If they're watching us, they'll want to know what we're up to. A high-profile event? That's their best chance to see us in action. To overhear something. To get close." His eyes darken. "And that's when we catch them."

I exhale, my brain already running through the logistics. I don't love it. I don't trust it. But… he's not wrong.

This could be our best shot.

"Fine," I say slowly. "But I swear, if I have to spend another night in stilettos, I'm blaming you."

Liam smirks. "I'll make it worth your while, Bennett."

Before I can respond—before I can even begin to process the heat in his voice—he turns, walks to the dresser, and pulls something small from his jacket pocket.

Then he hands it to me.

I look down—and my breath catches.

My bracelet.

My mother's bracelet. The one that was stolen weeks ago.

I swallow, my throat suddenly tight. "How did you…?"

Liam shrugs, but there's something softer in his expression. "Tracked it down. Some pawnshop across town." He rubs the back of his neck. "Figured you might want it back."

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