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I don’t even have to look. Something in my gut already knows this is about to go sideways. Two figures step out, and the second I clock them, my eyes snap back to Hunter.

“Oh, hell to the fuck no.”

“DK,” he says, quieter now, like lowering his voice is somehow going to make this less fucking insane, “it’s our best bet.”

My head is already shaking. “Nope. Nope, nope, fucking nope. I’m not placing ‘bets’ on the Baroness, especially when the person in question speaks in riddles and actively loathes all of us.”

He exhales and glances past me as they start walking over, greeting them like I didn’t just say no to this entire fucking plan. “Hey, thanks for coming down.”

“For the record,” I say, loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear, “I didn’t agree to this.”

“For the record,” Remy replies as he approaches the two of us, looking about as happy as I feel, “neither did I.” He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, both smeared and splattered with paint like he just survived a paint-can explosion. He jerks his thumb toward Lavinia. “This is on her.”

“Legally,” Hunter says in that annoying, know-it-all tone he uses when he’s trying to prove how smart he is, “Remy is his next of kin.”

“Is there a paper I can sign to get out of that? Because I renounced his ass a long time ago.” He grabs Lavinia’s hand. “Come on, Vinny, this was a bad idea.”

“I agree,” then cast a look back at Hunt. “You should go with him, so you’re not late to the courthouse.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Lavinia says, shaking her hand free from Remy’s grip and shooting me a warning look. I’ll give it to her. Lucia has balls. Her blue hair is twisted up, messy but controlled, just like her. “I need everyone to just calm the fuck down.”

Remy doesn’t look calm. Not even close.

Neither am I.

I adjust without thinking, putting myself between them and the door. Between them and her. There is no fucking way I’m letting him anywhere near my girl.

Lavinia seems satisfied that no one is about to throw the first punch, because she finally shifts gears. “First of all, how is she?”

There’s no mistaking that Lavinia didn’t ask about Timothy. She hates him more than Remy. Her eyes are trained on the window where Arianette is still curled up in that shitty excuse for a chair, small and folded in on herself, picking at one of the candy bars I grabbed earlier. No one but me—and maybe Hunter—can tell we just had sex, but there’s something different about her now, some edge worn down by everything she’s been through. I helped her, and I’m not walking out now.

My chest does that tight thing again. I ignore it.

“Physically, she’s fine,” Hunter answers. “Everything else? Not great.”

“They tried to kidnap her again, right under everyone’s noses,” I add, my voice going rough. “This time to kill her.”

“They?” Remy lets out a sharp, disbelieving sound. “You mean my father’s men?”

“Traitors,” I snap, stepping forward before I even realize I’m moving. “One of them stabbed your father, which is why he’s downstairs in surgery. There’s no loyalty—they proved that night they weren’t his men.”

He doesn’t flinch. “You can’t tell me he didn’t do something to provoke it.”

That does it.

Blood floods my system, hot and fast, and I lunge. Unfortunately, Hunter is already on alert, his arms locking around me before I can get my hands on Remy. He hauls me back hard enough that my boots scrape against the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here,” I snarl, fighting against his grip.

“Look,” Lavinia cuts in, planting a hand against Remy’s chest like she’s physically holding him in place, too. “This isn’t about that asshole who raised you. It’s about Forsyth.” Her gaze flicks to me, steady and unflinching. “Sy sent us down here to make sure that you show up for court. The ramifications otherwise are too fucking big for all of us.” Her tone softens, just slightly. “But it’s also about Arianette and making sure she’s safe. We have no ill will toward the Baroness.”

“Yeah,” Remy says, frowning as he crosses his arms. “Other than the fact that my stepmother is younger than me.”

I bare my teeth, but he keeps going because apparently he has a death wish.

“And not just because of the age thing. I mean, that’s fucking weird, but he’s not even divorced from my mother. He’s a fucking bigamist.”

Hunter clears his throat, still holding me like he doesn’t trust me not to go for Remy’s throat. Smart.