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)
“Good.” I turn back to the window, watching clouds roll beneath us like waves. “What’s Sloane doing now?”
Knox checks the feed. “Still in the lounge, but she’s sketching now. That portfolio hasn’t left her hands since she arrived.”
I think of that portfolio, how she’d started to reach for it at Tonic before her friend interrupted. Soon I’ll see every design, every idea she’s poured onto those pages. But more than that, I’ll give her the means to transform them from paper into reality.
“Sir?” The pilot’s voice comes through the cabin speaker. “We’re beginning our approach to Zurich. Weather at Gstaad is clear for the helicopter transfer.”
I check my watch. Perfect timing. Sloane’s flight won’t leave for another hour. By the time she lands in Zurich, I’ll have everything in place at the Alpina.
“Knox,” I say, my thoughts turning back to business, “what’s our latest intel on Julian’s suppliers?”
“We’ve identified three key factories he’s contracted for the Claire collection. Two in Italy, one in Belgium. My contacts tell me he’s been meeting with high-end department store buyers, promising exclusivity.”
I nod slowly, pieces falling into place. “And Bergdorf’s? Are they still interested in our New Year’s reveal?”
“More than interested. Salivating is more like it.” Knox scrolls through his notes. “Their luxury division director called twice this morning asking for preview details. I stalled, as instructed.”
“Good. The less anyone knows about Sloane’s collection, the better. If Julian gets wind that I’m backing her—”
“He’ll try to destroy both of you,” Knox finishes grimly. “Which is why I’ve tripled security for this operation. No one—and I mean no one—sees those designs until the reveal.”
If everything goes according to plan, Julian’s “Claire” collection will be exposed for the fraud it is, and Sloane Whitmore will be the new star of the luxury jewelry world.
And Julian Voss will finally begin paying for what he did to Claire. Well . . . it will never be enough, but at least it’s something.
I check my watch, anxious for what’s to come. “Let’s focus on the penthouse renovations and how they’re progressing.”
Knox pulls up new blueprints. “They’re ahead of schedule. Top-of-the-line security system. Though I still think the surveillance coverage is excessive. Do you really need four different angles of her workspace?”
“Eight,” I correct, marking additional camera positions. “I want to see everything.”
“This is either going to be brilliant or disastrous.” Knox shakes his head, but he’s already noting the new locations. “Though I guess those are the same thing with you.”
“I need to understand her process. How she creates. What inspires her.”
“You know this is insane, right?” But he’s already pulling up the jet’s manifest, checking security protocols. “The whole thing—the surveillance, the manipulations, bringing her into your world when Julian’s circling . . .”
“Since when has ‘insane’ ever stopped me?”
The plane touches down in Zurich with characteristic precision. On the tarmac, a helicopter waits to take us to Gstaad. I check my phone one last time before we transfer. Sloane’s still in the JFK lounge, but she’s moved to the window now, watching planes take off into the winter sky.
“Final preparations at the Alpina?” I ask as we board the helicopter.
“Your suite has been prepared according to specifications. Security confirms the east wing is clear of other guests.”
“The dinner menu?”
“Chef Maurice is preparing a seven-course tasting menu. Wine pairings have been selected from the cellar.” Knox’s expression turns knowing. “Though I notice you’ve requested peppermint tea be available as well.”
I ignore his implied question. “And the weather?”
“Snow forecast for the evening. The kind that makes everything look like a fairy tale.” He pauses. “Or a trap, depending on your perspective.”
“It’s not a trap if she wants to be caught.” The helicopter lifts off, banking toward the mountains.
I watch the Alps grow larger, their snow-covered peaks piercing the clouds like nature’s own version of Manhattan’s skyline. “Most acquisitions don’t have Sloane’s potential, Knox. Speaking of . . . has her severance package been processed?”
“Along with some interesting adjustments to her final paycheck. Seems several unauthorized deductions were made.”
“Document everything. Add it to the file on Walsh’s creative accounting.”
The helicopter begins its descent into Gstaad, the Alpina’s elegant silhouette emerging through lightly falling snow. In a few hours, Sloane will land in Zurich, still uncertain what she’s walking into. By the time she reaches the Alpina, everything will be perfect—a stage set for the next act in our carefully choreographed dance.
“One last thing,” Knox says as we touch down. “The background check on her friend Chloe came back. She’s clean, but chatty. High risk for asking uncomfortable questions. She’s in a relationship with a firefighter who also checks out.”
“Leave Chloe alone,” I instruct. “Sloane needs at least one person in her life who isn’t part of this. Besides,” I add, “she makes Sloane happy.”
The helicopter’s rotors slow as we step onto the Alpina’s private landing pad. Snow swirls around us, transforming the world into something out of a winter’s tale. Soon, Sloane will see this same view, not knowing that every snowflake, every crystal of ice, has been arranged just for her.