But before I can do anything reckless—before I can even decide what I'm about to do—the PI glances behind me and frowns.
"Uh, you might want to keep an eye on your girl."
My head whips around just in time to see Ava slipping through the ballroom doors.
Following Vanessa.
She's obviously had one too many glasses of champagne, and when Ava's over-served, she risks hurting herself most of all. I swear under my breath and immediately move.
By the time I push through the exit, Ava is already halfway across the parking lot, her emerald dress catching in the night breeze like a warning flare. Vanessa is ahead of her, walking toward a sleek black car idling near the curb, a driver waiting patiently. But Ava isn't letting her go that easily.
I know that look.
It's the same one she had when she walked into Vanessa's gallery without backup. The same one she had when she confronted me about the past I didn't want to talk about. The same one that says she's made up her mind and absolutely nothing is going to stop her.
I move fast, keeping to the shadows along the edge of the building, close enough to intervene but not close enough for Ava to catch me yet. Not before I know exactly what Vanessa is about to pull.
She pauses just before reaching the car, turning slightly, as if she knew Ava would follow.
The quiet surrounding me means I get to hear everything.
"You just don't know when to quit, do you?" Vanessa muses, amusement curling at the edges of her lips.
Ava crosses her arms, heels clicking sharply against the pavement. "Funny. I was about to say the same thing about you."
Vanessa exhales, slow and measured, then tilts her head, appraising Ava like she's something interesting beneath glass. "You really think this is your fight?"
Ava doesn't flinch. "I don't think. I know."
There it is. That fire, that stubborn recklessness that has driven me half-mad since the day I met her. And for the first time tonight, Vanessa actually seems intrigued.
She takes a step closer, just enough to drop her voice to something silkier, something that isn't meant for anyone but Ava.
"I'll give you credit," Vanessa murmurs. "You're more of a problem than I expected."
Ava doesn't so much as blink. "Good."
Vanessa laughs softly. "Oh, darling, you don't want to be a problem. Because problems get solved. And you won't like how I handle solutions."
Something inside me snaps.
I move forward, ready to put myself between them, to make it clear that Vanessa doesn't get to threaten Ava—not with her words, not with her games, not with a single breath.
But then, before I can reach them, Vanessa smiles.
Not in victory. Not in warning.
No, this smile is different. This one is sharpened into something cold.
"Tell me, Ava…" Her voice dips, casual but lethal. "Do you actually believe he'll choose you in the end?"
I freeze mid-step.
Ava stiffens, but I can't see her face from this angle.
Vanessa tilts her head, eyes glittering. "You think I'm the villain here. And maybe I am. But the difference between us? I know who Liam Carter really is." She exhales, as if savoring the moment before delivering the killing blow.
"You don't even know the whole story, Ava. When he's done with you, he'll go back to the life he knows."