Page 68 of High Reward

His words are carefully chosen, I realize. Vague enough to be reassuring without providing actual information. Grace accepts them at face value, leaning into his touch with visible relief.

But I’ve spent enough time around powerful men to recognize evasion when I hear it. Victor’s tone is too measured, his answers too polished. He’s hiding something. Has been for days.

I study his face as he continues speaking to Grace, offering gentle reassurances and empty platitudes about security measures and precautions. His eyes never quite meet mine, and when they do, there’s something there. Guilt, maybe. Or calculation.

“The important thing is that everyone stays together,” Victor continues. “No one goes anywhere alone. No one takes unnecessary risks.”

Grace nods eagerly, grateful for direction, for someone taking charge of her safety. But the protective instincts that have kept me alive through years living with Phineas are screaming warnings.

Victor catches me staring. For just a moment, his composure slips. I see the flicker of something in his expression before he rebuilds his walls.

“Lili,” he says. “You should probably get some more rest. The doctor said—”

“I’m fine.” My voice is colder than I intended. “Actually, I’d like to speak with you. Privately.”

Grace looks between us, sensing the shift in temperature. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Victor says quickly. “Lili probably just wants an update on the warehouse situation.”

The lie comes so smoothly that I almost admire it. Almost.

“Something like that,” I agree. “Grace, why don’t you get something to eat? You look like you haven’t had a proper meal today.”

She glances at Victor, who nods encouragingly. “Good idea, butterfly. Get something for all three of us.”

Grace hesitates, clearly sensing undercurrents of something between us. But Victor’s authority and my gentle pushing win out. She heads toward the bar area where Tyson and Sabrina are sharing a plate of food.

I wait until she’s out of earshot, then gesture toward the quieter seating area near the edge of the dungeon. Away from prying eyes and sensitive ears.

Victor follows, but his posture is stiff. He’s smart enough to know what I have to say.

We settle onto a couch, sitting at an angle to face each other, the leather creaking under our weight.

“What aren’t you telling her?” I ask once we’re settled.

Victor’s jaw tightens. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Victor. I’ve lived with a man who built his career on lies and misdirection. You’re hiding something from Grace, and you need to tell her.”

He leans back, arms crossing over his chest. “Even if I were keeping something from her, which I’m not saying I am, why would that be your concern?”

“Because I care about her.” My voice drops lower, more intense. “Because she trusts you completely, and if you’re lying to her, she deserves to hear the truth. And because if the three of us are building something together, I won’t be party to lies.”

We stare at each other. Victor’s brown eyes are hard, calculating. But there’s conflict there too. He’s wrestling with something.

“Sometimes protecting someone means not telling them everything,” he says finally.

“Protecting her? Or protecting yourself from her reaction?”

The hit lands. I see it in the way his fingers tighten against his arms, the slight tension in his jaw.

“You don’t understand the situation,” he says.

“Then explain it to me.”

Another long moment of silence. Around us, the club continues its subdued conversations, but we might as well be alone in the world.

“We think we might know who’s been stalking Grace,” Victor says finally. “But we’re not certain yet. I don’t want to tell her until we have more concrete evidence.”