The auction hadn’t started yet, which meant they still had time. Clara tightened her grip on Brown’s arm, subtly guiding him toward the bar. If they were going to get close to the liaison, they needed to be in his orbit.As they approached, the man’s eyes flickered toward them. Recognition flared in his gaze—but not at Brown.At her.Clara’s pulse spiked.The liaison’s lips curved into a knowing smirk. “Well, well. Didn’t expect to see you here.”Brown went rigid beside her.Clara forced a smile, her mind racing.She knew this man.And by the way Brown’s grip tightened ever so slightly on her waist, he knew it too.Clara’s fingers curled slightly against Brown’s arm, her nails pressing into the fabric of his suit. A silent warning. A silent question.The liaison’s smirk deepened. He lifted his glass, swirling the amber liquid inside before taking a slow sip.“It’s been a while, Nightingale.”The nickname sent a cold spike down Clara’s spine. She hadn’t heard it in years—not since the

Brown’s jaw tightened. “Then we’re done talking.”Clara nodded. Enough with the games. If the Venetian wanted them dead, they had no choice but to strike first.She turned back to the liaison, eyes cold. “You have two choices. You either give us the location of the Black Diamond, or we leave you here to explain to whoever sent those guys why you're still breathing.”The liaison exhaled a slow, amused chuckle. “You’re as ruthless as ever, Nightingale.”Brown stepped forward, closing the gap between them in an instant. “And she’s being generous.” His voice was low, dangerous. “I’m not.”The smirk on the liaison’s face wavered just a little. He straightened his jacket and glanced around. The bodies of his unconscious attackers littered the floor. The Venetian’s security would be here soon, and they wouldn’t ask nicely.He sighed. “Fine. There’s an exclusive suite upstairs. Room 707. That’s where the buyer is keeping it—for now.”Clara’s pulse quickened. “Who’s the buyer?”The liaison’s l

She felt the shift before it happened. Brown’s signal—three taps on his glass from across the room.Move now.Clara’s smile didn’t falter as she leaned toward Petrov, her hand grazing his wrist.Then she struck.Her blade slipped between his ribs, quick and precise. His eyes widened in shock, a choked gasp escaping his lips.The guards reacted too late.Brown was already there, taking them down with brutal efficiency.The club erupted into chaos.Clara grabbed Petrov’s collar, yanking him close as he bled out. “This is business,” she whispered.His body slumped forward.They were already moving before the rest of his men realized what had happened.The drive back to the Venetian was silent. Clara wiped blood from her hands, her mind already spinning with what came next.Orsini would know soon enough.The only question was—would he keep his word?Brown finally

Clara stood still in the middle of the room, her heart pounding even though her face remained expressionless. She had known from the start that returning to this family wouldn’t be easy, but she had no other choice.Dante sipped his drink casually, while Brown stood in the corner of the room, ever watchful. No one spoke for a few seconds, only the soft ticking of the clock filled the silence.Then, Dante finally broke it."You made a big mistake coming back, Clara," he said, setting his glass down on the table. "What were you thinking? That you could just walk in, ask for protection, and disappear again?"Clara met her brother’s gaze sharply. "I had no choice."Dante let out a short laugh. "Same excuse as always. No choice." He exhaled before continuing, "Orsini is dead, isn’t he?"Clara didn’t nod or shake her head, but Dante already knew the answer."You just started a war," Dante whispered.Clara clenched her teeth. "Orsini tried to kill me first. I only retaliated."Dante shook hi

Clara took a slow, steady breath. "You’ll have to be more specific," she said coolly.Ivan’s smirk didn’t reach his eyes. "Don’t play games with me, DeLuca. You stole information worth millions—evidence that could burn my entire operation to the ground."Dante sighed and took a casual sip of his whiskey. "Ivan, you’re making quite the mess on my property. If you’re going to throw around threats, at least bring a bottle of vodka as a peace offering."Ivan’s gaze flickered to Dante, unimpressed. "Stay out of this, DeLuca. This is between me and your sister."Dante set his glass down, leaning forward. "See, that’s where you’re wrong. Clara is family. And nobody threatens my family without consequences."Tension crackled between them.Brown, standing protectively beside Clara, subtly pressed a button on his comms device. His men were already in position, waiting for the signal.Clara crossed her arms. "You’re right, Ivan. I took something from Orsini—because I needed leverage to survive.