The tension in Roman's office was thick enough to choke the sunlight. The mahogany desk felt like a battlefield between them as Violet leaned over it, her eyes flashing with a mix of defiance and desperate logic.
The hangover from the night before was a dull throb behind her temples, but the arrival of the Prince had sharpened her focus into a razor's edge.
"How is the lawsuit going, Roman? Truly," Violet asked, her voice steady.
Roman didn't look up from a stack of legal briefs. "My lawyers are circling the wagons. Silas Vane is being a coward. He's officially refused to release the security footage from the alleyway to anyone. He claims it's about 'brand integrity' and avoiding a scandal, but I suspect he's being squeezed by Ryder's father. Without that tape, the Vanes are painting me as the aggressor. It's a distraction I don't have time for."
"He's not being squeezed by the Vanes," Violet countered, crossing her arms. "He's being squeezed by his overhead. Silas loves that club more than his own reputation. He's scared, Roman. I know him. I'll go talk to him."
Roman's head snapped up, his blue eyes turning to flint. "Absolutely not. You aren't leaving this estate. Not while Frankie is in the city."
"Roman, be reasonable," she snapped back, her sass returning with a vengeance. "You're fighting a two-front war. You're trying to dismantle a royal marriage contract and fend off a multi-million dollar assault suit at the same time. If I get you that footage, the lawsuit dies. You can focus all your resources on the Prince. Silas trusts me. He doesn't trust men in five-thousand-dollar suits with subpoenas."
"It's too dangerous," Roman growled, standing up. He rounded the desk, his presence looming over her, a physical manifestation of his protective jealousy. "Frankie has men everywhere. You are a walking target."
"And you are a sitting duck if you keep letting the Vanes drain your time!" Violet stepped into his space, poking a finger against his firm chest. "I'm not asking for permission to go on a shopping spree. I'm telling you I can fix this. Now, are you going to let me help you, or are you going to keep playing the overbearing dragon until we both burn down?"
They stared each other down for a long, vibrating minute. Roman's jaw worked, his nostrils flaring as he fought the urge to simply lock her in the master suite until the world was safe. But he saw the fire in her eyes- the same fire that had led her to run across a country to escape a Prince.
"Fine," he spat, the word sounding like it cost him a fortune. "But you don't go alone. You take Tyson, and four of my best men. They stay inside the club, and they don't let you out of their sight for a single second. If I see so much as a shadow move near you on the GPS, I'm coming in with a helicopter. Am I clear?"
Violet offered him a small, triumphant smirk. "Crystal. Try not to have a heart attack while I'm gone."
The Gilded Lily looked different in the afternoon light. Without the haze of cigarette smoke and the glamour of the spotlights, it looked tired, its velvet curtains dusty and its stage lonely. Violet felt a pang of grief as she walked through the familiar scent of old gin and floor wax. Tyson and three other men in dark suits stood like statues at the entrance, their presence a silent, looming reminder of the Thorne empire.
She found Silas in his office, hunched over a ledger, a glass of amber liquid sitting untouched by his elbow. He looked up as she entered, and for a moment, his face brightened with a flash of the old Silas.
"Violet," he sighed, leaning back. "I heard you were under the 'protection' of the big man now. Seeing those suits at my door, I half-expected a raid."
"They're just for show, Silas," she lied gently, sitting across from him. "I came to talk to you. About the alleyway footage."
Silas's expression soured instantly. "Violet, don't. The Thorne lawyers have been hounding me. I can't do it. The press is already calling this place a 'gladiator pit.' If that video gets out, it's over."
Violet leaned forward, her voice dropping into a low, urgent tone. "Silas, look at me. This isn't just about a billionaire's legal fees. This is about my freedom. Roman Thorne is the only thing standing between me and a past that wants to swallow me whole. He needs that footage to end this lawsuit so he can focus on... something much bigger. Something much more dangerous."
She didn't mention Frankie. She didn't mention the Forest Kingdom or the auction. But the weight in her voice- the raw, naked honesty of her fear, made Silas pause.
"Is it that bad, kid?" he asked softly.
"It's worse," Violet whispered. "Roman is trying to protect me, but the Vanes are tying his hands behind his back with this suit. If you give up that tape, the lawsuit evaporates. He can win the real fight."
Silas looked at his ledger, then out toward the empty bar. "You want the truth, Violet? Since I had to let you go, the regulars haven't come back. They didn't come for the jazz; they came for the Songbird. I've lost more business in the last three days because you aren't on that stage than I ever did from that alleyway fight. This place is dying without you."
Violet felt a lump in her throat. "I want to come back, Silas. I love this stage. But I can't come back if I'm looking over my shoulder every five minutes. If Roman wins this, I can be here. Truly here."
Silas ran a hand over his tired face. He looked at the woman who had brought life to his club and then at the door where Thorne's giants stood guard. He realized then that he wasn't just holding onto a tape; he was holding onto a anchor that was dragging them both down.
"If it gets you back here faster," Silas muttered, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out an encrypted flash drive, "then to hell with the Vanes. I'll send this to the Thorne legal team within the hour. Tell that brute of yours that he owes me one- and that I expect my star performer back as soon as the coast is clear."
Violet stood, a rush of relief flooding through her that made her knees feel weak. "Thank you, Silas. You have no idea what this means."
"I think I do," he said with a sad smile. "Now get out of here before those bodyguards of yours start charging me for the air they're breathing."
As Violet walked back to the SUV, she felt a flicker of hope. She had done it. She had cleared the path for the dragon. Now, it was just a matter of whether Roman could finish what he started before the Prince decided he was tired of waiting.
She climbed into the back seat, Tyson closing the door behind her. "Take me home," she said. "I have a name-guessing game to win."