Page 21 of Sinfully Yours

I can't speak. I can't move. I can only stare at the screen, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Liam doesn't wait for me to answer. He reaches past me, plucking the phone from my frozen grip. The silence that follows is thick and electric, stretching until he exhales slowly.

His entire posture shifts. The teasing, the smirks, the easy arrogance—all of it vanishes in an instant.

He pockets my phone and turns me gently by the shoulders until I'm facing him. "Look at me."

I do. Because I don't think I know how not to.

His blue eyes are steady, cutting through the panic curling in my chest. "Breathe."

I suck in a sharp breath, but it's not enough. The words on my screen keep flashing in my mind like a warning, like a noose tightening around my ribs.

My family. Someone is watching my family.

Liam must see the realization hit because he curses under his breath before cupping my face with both hands, grounding me. "No one is going to touch you. Or them. You hear me?"

I nod, throat tight.

He watches me for a long moment, as if assessing whether I actually believe him. Then he exhales sharply and reaches for his phone.

"I'm calling Tyler."

I frown up at him. "And who is that?"

Liam's lips twitch, but there's no humor behind it. "Tyler's my security guy. My fixer. The one who could probably track a man through a blizzard with nothing but a blurry security cam screenshot."

I blink. "That's… oddly specific."

"He's oddly talented," Liam says, already dialing. "And right now, he's our best shot at figuring out who's screwing with you."

Liam steps away as he dials, giving me a second to try and pull myself together. I brace my hands against the counter, dragging in slow breaths, but the text sits heavily on my chest.

It's different now. The other message was about me—about the kiss, about exposure, about rumors.

This is something else entirely because it involves my brothers. And while they get on my nerves just about always, they're family. I love them.

Which makes this threat all the more meaningful. Whoever sent it knew me well enough to understand my priorities.

I hear Liam's voice behind me, hurried and strained. "Yeah. Another text. More specific this time." A pause. "She's fine, but I need to know how fast you can trace it."

I squeeze my eyes shut, pressing my palms against the counter. I should be grateful he's handling this. I should be grateful for the way he's already moving, already planning, already fixing.

But I hate feeling so powerless, hate that I'm panicking.

Liam hangs up a moment later and turns back to me. "Tyler's on it. He'll call when he has something."

I nod, still feeling off-balance, still trying to ground myself.

Liam watches me for a second longer, then scrubs a hand over his jaw. "I'm not leaving."

It takes me a moment to process what he's just said. "What?"

He leans against the counter like it's already decided. Like he's already settled in. "You heard me. I'm staying."

I stare at him, caught between frustration and something a lot more dangerous. "Liam?—"

"Not up for discussion." He sets his shoulders, which I take to mean as any further argument from me will be a waste of my breath. "Not when there's a chance that someone is watching you."

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