Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
The calm I’ve been clinging to starts to crack. These designs aren’t just pieces of metal and stone—they’re pieces of me. My vision. My soul. Each one represents countless hours of work, of failing and trying again, of finally getting it exactly right. And he’s going to erase all of that with a stack of forged papers.
A loud thud from somewhere in the mansion makes everyone freeze. Julian’s head snaps toward the door.
“Go check,” he orders one of the Russians, who immediately draws his weapon and slips out.
The second Russian looks nervous now, his hand hovering near his holster. “Boss, maybe we should—”
“Keep loading,” Julian snaps. “We’re not leaving without those designs.”
The remaining Russian returns to packing my work, but his movements are hurried now, careless. Another piece clatters against the side of the case.
“If that’s Cole,” I say quietly, “you should know he won’t come alone.”
Julian’s smile is cold as he turns back to me. “I’m counting on it.” He draws the knife again, moving behind me. “In fact, I think it’s time we prepared a proper welcome.”
His fingers twist into my hair, yanking my head back as the knife comes to rest against my throat. My pulse throbs against the cold metal.
“This is the oldest story in the world, Sloane,” he whispers against my ear. “The hero comes to rescue the damsel, only to walk right into the trap.”
Another crash echoes from deeper in the house, followed by what sounds unmistakably like a gunshot.
“Tick tock,” Julian murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “Your knight approaches.”
One of the Russians drops another case with a clang. Julian doesn’t even flinch at the sound this time, too busy staring at his phone. Seven calls now. All ignored.
“Load them in the van,” he snaps suddenly. “All of them. And carefully this time, you idiots. These are priceless pieces of art now.” He barks out a laugh. “Worth far more with Claire’s name on them than they ever would have been with yours.”
I bite my tongue until I taste blood, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me react. But inside, my mind is racing. There has to be something, some detail that would prove these are mine. My signature elements, my techniques . . .
“What about the girl?” one of the Russians asks, his accent thick.
Julian’s eyes sweep over me, cold and calculating. “Leave her with me. Mr. Asher and I have some unfinished business to discuss.” His lip curls. “When he finally decides to show up.”
Something in his tone makes my skin prickle. As the Russians begin hauling out the cases, I watch the last traces of Julian’s polished veneer crack away. The man underneath is something else entirely. Something darker.
And suddenly I’m not so sure about Cole’s plan anymore.
Chapter Thirty-Nine Cole
No.” Knox’s voice is granite. “You’re not going in.”
“Like hell I’m not.” I check my watch again. Five hours. She’s been with him for five hours.
“Cole.” Knox steps between me and the SUV. “I’ve got two teams in position. Thermal imaging shows three heat signatures on the main floor. We know the layout. My people can handle this.”
“Your people didn’t get her into this mess. I did.” My voice breaks slightly. “This is my fault. I should have told her everything from the beginning, should have known Julian would come after her.”
“Exactly.” His jaw tightens. “You’re too close. Too emotional. In operations like this—”
“This isn’t one of your operations.” I step closer, forcing him to meet my eyes. “This is Sloane. And I need to be the one to get her out of there. I need to look her in the eye and tell her how sorry I am.”
“And that’s why you’ll get her killed,” Knox retorts. “We just got the alert from your case security system. Multiple failed biometric attempts before a lockdown. What does that tell you?”
“That Julian’s getting desperate,” I say, a cold satisfaction spreading through me. “And that Sloane is fighting back.”
Knox’s expression softens slightly. “She’s resourceful, I’ll give her that. But Julian’s unpredictable when he’s cornered.”
“I’ve been waiting five years for this,” I say, checking my weapon one more time. “Five years of watching my back, of building something Julian couldn’t touch, of making sure I was ready when he finally made his move.”
“And now he has,” Knox reminds me. “With her. The one variable you can’t control.”
I hate that he’s right. Julian knew exactly where to hit me. The one vulnerability I couldn’t eliminate.
“Which is precisely why you need to stay back. Julian’s expecting you to come charging in. He’s planned for it. What he’s not expecting is a four-man tactical team that knows every inch of that house.”
I look past him to where his team is gearing up, efficient and silent in the predawn darkness. Professional. Skilled. Probably the best chance Sloane has.