The private dining room of The Grand Meridian was bathed in the warm glow of candlelight, the heavy drapes drawn against the city’s neon pulse. Ava sat beside Liam at the polished mahogany table, her fingers tracing the rim of her water glass. The air was thick with anticipation, the weight of the coming confrontation pressing down on her like a physical force. Richard Carter had yet to arrive, but his presence loomed over them, a shadow neither could ignore.
Liam’s hand found hers beneath the table, his grip firm, his thumb tracing slow circles on her skin. “You don’t have to be here for this,” he murmured, his voice low.
Ava met his gaze, her voice steady. “Yes, I do.”
Liam’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He knew as well as she did that this was no longer just his battle. It was
