DEADLY DECEPTION

CHAPTER 33

(AVERY'S POV)

Dinner was tense.

I hadn't seen the guys all day, and now that they were here, I wasn't about to waste the opportunity. My eyes flickered to Rick, sitting at the head of the table like a fucking king, unreadable as ever. The dim lighting cast sharp shadows over his face, emphasizing the cold set of his jaw, the steel in his gaze.

I took a breath. Just get him to agree. Don't back down.

"So," I started, setting my fork down. "I've been thinking—"

"No."

I barely got the words out before Rick shut it down, his voice as sharp as a blade.

I clenched my jaw. "You didn't even let me finish."

Rick didn't even look at me. "Didn't need to."

I glanced at Bryce first. He was the easiest to crack. "Talk to him."

Bryce hesitated, looking between me and Rick like he was debating whether he wanted to live tonight. "Uh—"

"Do it." I wasn't in the mood for excuses.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Rick, man, c'mon. Just let her go. She's not a damn kid—"

"No." Rick didn't even look up from his plate.

George tried next. "You can't just lock her away like a fucking prisoner—"

"I can do whatever the fuck I want." Rick's voice was razor-sharp, slicing through the room like a death sentence.

Fred exhaled through his nose. "She deserves to be involved. This is about Sergei—"

Rick finally looked up, his cold grey eyes cutting through the conversation like a fucking executioner's blade.

"You mean the way you deserved to be involved last time?"

Silence.

Of course. The attack.

When we went to the beach, when those fuckers came out of nowhere, when Rick lost his goddamn mind—

Rick's grip tightened around his glass. "I let you go once. Look what happened."

Bryce shifted uncomfortably. Fred looked away. Even George—always the logical one—had nothing to say.

But I did.

I leaned forward, my voice sharp. "This isn't just about me. I lost my parents to Sergei. Maria too. Your enemy is my enemy, Rick. You think you can just lock me away while you hunt him down?"

His jaw twitched, the only sign that my words hit something raw.

"You wanna be involved?"

His voice was deceptively soft, the kind of quiet that came before a storm.

"Fine. How about I put a bullet in your head myself and save Sergei the trouble?"

Bryce flinched. Fred sucked in a breath.

I didn't. I held his gaze, fire licking through my veins.

"Fuck you, Rick."

His smirk was lethal.

"Already begging? Save it, sweetheart."

My blood boiled. "I'm going to that fucking gala whether you like it or not."

The air went deathly still.

Then—

CRASH.

Rick was on his feet in an instant, his palm slamming down on the table so hard the entire dining table shook. Plates rattled, forks clattered, and my pulse spiked as every single person in that room jolted at the sheer violence in his movement.