Page 58 of He Knows When You're Awake

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. She also said something about how the fashion industry is basically organized crime anyway, so at least this would be being honest about it.”

“Oh my god.” I’m trying not to laugh. “She’s insane.”

“She’s perfect is what she is. Plus, she figures if things go south, she can always use it as inspiration for her next collection. ‘Confessions of a Mob Jeweler’ or something.”

I shake my head. “Can you ask her? Maybe you both could come by later if Cole’s security team approves it?”

“Of course. See? This is what happens when you actually call me back instead of ghosting me for days.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I smile despite everything. “I’ll talk to Cole about all of it—Hailey, Julian, everything.”

“Good. That’s what normal people do, you know. They talk about things.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Love you too. And Sloane? It’ll be okay.”

I end the call and stare at the cameras again. Talk to him. Simple advice. Impossible execution. How exactly does one start a conversation about potential murder connections over morning coffee?

Chapter Twenty-TwoSloane

Late into the night, I’m still at my workstation, thinking about Hailey. I’ve always hated the idea of collaborating—design is personal, intimate. But with this impossible deadline looming, I don’t have much choice, and getting it cleared with Cole hopefully won’t be an issue. And maybe having someone else here wouldn’t be the worst thing, especially someone whose work I’ve actually admired. The few pieces of Hailey’s I’ve seen in Chloe’s photos have that edge I’ve been trying to capture—that understanding that beauty doesn’t always have to be vanilla in nature. Fresh eyes might be exactly what this collection needs.

Through the studio windows, I watch snow starting to fall over the city’s Christmas lights. Perfect conditions for frost... and something a little more dangerous.

I pick up the centerpiece of what will be the signature necklace. The diamonds are arranged like icicles, but with an asymmetrical edge that makes them look almost like broken glass. Between them, black rhodium-plated thorns twist and curl. It’s winter, but not the soft, dreamy kind. This is the winter that kills.

A soft knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts.

“Sloane? May I come in?” Cole’s voice carries through the door.

“Yes, come in,” I call out.

The studio door opens, and I catch Cole’s reflection in my design mirror. He’s still in his suit from work.

“You’re here late,” he says, resting a hand on the back of my chair.

“Lost track of time.” I glance up at him in the mirror. “Board meeting run long?”

He picks up one of the sketches instead of answering, studying the way the thorns wrap around the diamonds. “The design’s evolved.”

“I’m getting there. I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel with this line.”

His fingers trail along the edge of my worktable, stopping near the intricate tangle of metal and stones. “Show me your latest.”

I reach for the centerpiece, aware of his warmth at my back, his breath stirring my hair. I hold up the necklace, letting the stones catch the light. The thorns cast strange shadows, making the diamonds look like they’re floating in darkness.

“It’s becoming something wilder,” I say, remembering our argument at dinner. “Not quite what you had in mind when you wanted me to prioritize the bracelet, is it?”

His lips quirk into a half-smile. “I was wrong. This is exactly where your focus needed to be.”

I can’t help the smug grin that spreads across my face. “I’m sorry, what was that? Cole Asher admitting he was wrong?”

“Don’t push it,” he warns, but there’s heat in his eyes that makes my stomach flip. His hand slides from my chair to my shoulder, fingers working at a knot there.

Just ask him.That’s what normal people do, right? Hey Cole, quick question—what really happened with Julian and Claire Voss?