Before she could take another breath, Bianca’s voice rang through the morning air. "Lewis!"
Vivienne turned just as Bianca glided toward them, a vision of cascading curls and a plunging neckline that defied gravity.
"I was afraid I’d miss you," Bianca cooed, looping her arms around Lewis’ neck in a tight embrace.
Vivienne watched as she pressed a small parcel into his palm, whispering something that made him nod before tucking it away. Then came the kiss. It was long, slow, and intense enough that Vivienne averted her gaze.That doesn’t look like an ‘Ionlywalked her home’ kind of kiss.
"Well, hello there," A voice like splinters and rust rumbled behind her.
Vivienne turned, her stomach tightening.
"Miss Banner," Enyo drawled, his crooked smile tugging at his scarred cheek. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Captain Enyo," she said, forcing her shoulders square.
He leaned in, his breath a rancid mix of liquor and decay. "Just so we’re clear, you’re standing in the way of my very comfortable retirement. I’ve already been screwed over by the Banner family once, and I don’t intend for it to happen again. I won’t lose to alibrary bratwho is completely out of her depth.”
Vivienne didn’t flinch, despite the way her stomach churned. "If I’m so out of my depth, why bother with threats?"
Enyo chuckled, low and oily. "Oh, I’ll enjoy this." His fingers drummed against his belt, where a curved dagger gleamed. "Out on the open sea or on one of the isles, there won’t be so many witnesses. No one will be around to hear your screams."
Her blood ran ice cold. She clenched her fists, hoping Enyo wouldn’t see her shaking hands.
Satisfied, Enyo swaggered off, heading for his ship. The Thanatos looked more pirate than crown-sanctioned. His crew of mercenaries and cutthroats lounged along the railing, watching like wolves waiting for the kill.
"Shit." Lewis appeared at her side, his voice sharp. "Was Enyo talking to you just now?"
Vivienne forced a casual shrug though her pulse pounded. "Mind games. That’s all."
Lewis frowned. "Are you sure?—"
"You have lipstick on your face," she cut in, nudging his sleeve. "You might want to clean up before we meet a bunch of Royal Navy sailors."
His ears burned red as he wiped at his cheek. "Oh. Thanks. Where do we even go?"
Before she could answer, a crisp baritone cut through the dockside din.
"Miss Banner. Mr. Blume?"
They turned toward the voice.
"That’s us," Lewis confirmed.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a pristine navy uniform approached, dark eyes scanning them with cool indifference. His very presence commanded attention. Polished brass buttons gleamed against the deep navy doublet, and a sword hung from his belt, its hilt gleaming in the sunlight.
"Commander Thorne," he introduced, giving a curt nod that did nothing to stir his coif of black, wavy hair. "I’m here to escort you to the ship."
Vivienne swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how small she felt under his sharp gaze.
Thorne gestured to their luggage. "These are yours?"
"Yes," Vivienne managed, her voice drier than the sunbaked pier.
At his firm blink, the dockworkers hoisted their trunks and carried them toward the ships.
"Three trunks?" Thorne arched a thick brow. "Trouble packing light, Miss Banner?"
"Oh, two of those are mine," Lewis chimed in, "but one of them is all books."
