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)
“Where’s the rest of it?” I ask, keeping my voice level.
Julian takes a slow sip of his drink. “The designs? Already gone. Being authenticated as we speak. Claire’s final collection . . . it’s really quite poetic when you think about it.”
I check my watch. Time to stick to Knox’s plan.
“You know what’s funny, Julian?” I take a step deeper into the room. “You’ve spent years trying to destroy me. My company. My reputation. But you never quite managed it.”
“And now I have.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Everything you’ve built with her—the designs, the publicity, the perfect power couple—it all becomes part of Claire’s legacy instead. Fitting, don’t you think?”
Three minutes left.
“You still don’t get it.” I take another step. “You’re so focused on the past, on what you think you lost, that you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”
He swirls the drink in his glass. “And what exactly am I missing?”
“How pathetic this is.” I watch his fingers tighten on the glass. “You didn’t just lose Claire. You lost your talent for this game. Five years of trying to hurt me, and the best you can come up with is stealing some jewelry?”
Two minutes.
“Stealing?” His composure cracks, just slightly. “I’m reclaiming what should have been Claire’s. Your little protégée’s work will finally serve a purpose. A tribute to real talent.”
I catch Sloane’s slight head shake. She knows what I’m doing. Keeping him talking. Keeping him focused on me.
“Claire had real talent,” I agree, taking another step. “She didn’t need you to forge her legacy. To fake her designs. She would have hated this, Julian. But then, you never really knew her, did you?”
His glass shatters in the fireplace.
One minute.
“Don’t you dare tell me about my wife.” His polished veneer is gone now. “You have no right—”
“I have every right. I was there, remember? Watched you destroy her, piece by piece. Just like you tried to destroy me. Just like you’re trying to destroy Sloane.” I’m close enough now to see the tremor in his hands. “But here’s what you still don’t understand.”
Thirty seconds.
“What?” he snarls.
“That you’ve already lost.” I smile and watch his expression falter. “Again.”
The first flash-bang crashes through the study window behind him.
I’m moving before the blast, tackling Sloane’s chair backward as the room erupts in light and sound. Her head tucks against my chest as we hit the floor, my body covering hers from the spray of glass.
Knox’s team flows through the window and door like smoke—black tactical gear, precise movements. No hesitation. No warning. I hear Julian shout something, but it’s lost in the breach.
I focus on Sloane, working at the silk tie around her wrists. “You okay?”
She nods against my chest, then lifts her head. There’s a cut on her cheek from the glass, but her eyes are clear. Steady. “The designs—”
“Knox has another team at Julian’s headquarters.” I help her sit up as the tie finally comes loose. “They moved in the moment we breached here.”
“You let him take them.” Understanding dawns in her eyes. “You wanted him to split his men between locations.” She gives me a look. “You made me wait five hours with Boris and Vladimir for this plan to work, didn’t you?”
“I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice rough with emotion. “I should have been here sooner.”
“You should have.”
I wait for the fury. The rage. But none of that comes.
She touches my face, her fingers gentle against my cheek. “Hey. You came for me. That’s what matters now.”
But then her eyes narrow, searching mine. “Julian said something earlier. About Maya, my old assistant.”
I freeze. “What do you mean?”
“He didn’t come right out and say it, but . . .” She swallows. “The way he talked . . . it sounded like she’s gone. Like maybe he killed her. Chloe had mentioned that there’s no word of her and—”
“Anything’s possible with Julian,” I say, my voice tight. “But if there’s even a chance she’s alive, I’ll find out. And if she is”—I look her in the eye—“I’ll make sure she gets out.”
She nods once, but the silence that follows is heavy.
“I was terrified,” I admit, the words pouring out now. “When I realized he had you—” I break off, unable to finish the thought. “I’m sorry, Sloane. For all of this.”
“I know. I know this was never your plan.” She pauses and appears to shake off any darkness that passed through her eyes. “Are we in agreement that plans aren’t always the best path?” she teases, clearly trying to lighten the moment.
A crash from across the room draws our attention. Julian’s on his knees, Knox’s team surrounding him as he spits curses and threats. The perfect, polished mask is gone completely now. All that’s left is the raw, ugly truth underneath.
He’s not listening anymore, his eyes fixed on the fireplace, on the spot where Claire used to sit and sketch. Lost in whatever twisted version of the past he’s created for himself.