Chapter Twenty-Four Sloane
I ’m at my worktable early, still buzzing from last night.
God, I should be exhausted, but I can’t stop designing.
My fingers keep touching the spots where the wheel traced over my skin—still sensitive, still tingling.
It’s like Cole rewired something in me. The chains and metal pieces I’ve been using in my collection suddenly feel different.
Before, they were just cool design elements.
Now? They remind me of how it felt to be under his control, to surrender.
I’m seeing my own work through new eyes.
I can’t explain it, but I’m working faster, everything flowing out of me like I’ve tapped into something I didn’t know was there. Like last night unlocked some creative door I didn’t even realize was closed.
Knox’s voice startles me out of my focus. “Ms. Whitmore, your guests, Chloe Hallman and Hailey Parker, have arrived.”
I hear Chloe’s laugh before I see her. When I turn, Knox is already handing out security badges with his usual efficiency.
“Temporary access cards,” he explains. “The elevator won’t operate without them. Studio and bathroom access only.” He gives Chloe a pointed look. “These need to be returned at the end of the day.”
“So serious,” Chloe says, dangling her badge. “What, afraid I’ll throw a wild party up here?”
I hide my smile as Knox ignores her, tapping something on his iPad. “Basic security protocols. Wear these where they’re visible. Sign in, sign out. Don’t wander.” He pauses. “That means you, Ms. Hallman.”
“You’re no fun at all,” Chloe sighs dramatically. “Not even a tiny tour?”
“In case of emergency, follow the exit signs. Fire escape is through there, stairs are that way.” He points to each location, deliberately moving past Chloe’s request. “Any questions?”
“Actually,” I say, catching Knox’s eye, “Hailey might be around a lot more. I’m hoping she’ll consider taking a position as my assistant for the collection.
” I glance at Hailey. “If you’re interested, that is.
Cole gave me the green light earlier. The timeline’s tight, but with your expertise. ..”
Knox’s posture shifts slightly—barely noticeable, but I’ve learned to read his subtle changes. He studies Hailey with new attention, probably already mentally updating security protocols.
Hailey is nothing like I expected. I’d pictured all-black clothing and heavy gothic makeup, but she walks in wearing a crisp white shirt and tailored pants like she just stepped out of a business meeting.
It’s her jewelry that gives her away—an oxidized silver choker with black diamonds, multiple rings climbing up her fingers, and these wicked silver earrings that curve up her ears into points.
The contrast shouldn’t work, but it does.
Her whole look is a master class in making edge look expensive.
She takes one look at my latest designs and gets it immediately. “You’re not making jewelry,” she says, picking up one of the sharp-edged pieces. “You’re making armor.”
Something clicks in my mind. That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do.
“Finally!” Chloe claps her hands together.
“Two of my favorite people in the same room. Sloane, this is Hailey Parker. She did that incredible black diamond collection I showed you last month. Hailey, this is Sloane Whitmore, who’s about to shake up the entire jewelry world if I have anything to say about it. ”
“And there’s the Chloe Hallman hype machine,” Hailey laughs, already moving closer to examine one of my pieces.
“For once, Chloe’s not exaggerating,” she says. “You understand that beauty doesn’t have to play nice.”
I grab my sketchbook, then pointedly look at each security camera in the corners of the room. “So, before we get started... full disclosure: We have an audience.”
Hailey follows my gaze, her smile faltering slightly. “Ah. Right. The cameras.”
“Don’t worry,” I assure her quickly. “He only watches when—” I stop. “Actually, I have no idea when he watches.”
“All the time,” Chloe says with unholy glee. “He’s probably watching right now. Hi, Cole!” She waves at the nearest camera.
“That’s... comforting?” Hailey shifts in her chair. “I think?”
“You get used to it,” I say, then realize that probably doesn’t help. “I mean, not in a creepy way. Just in a... security thing. Though maybe we keep certain topics off-limits?”
The morning passes in a blur of creative energy and girl talk. While we work, Chloe demands details about living with Cole. “So does he like... watch you sleep through the cameras?” she asks.
“Of course not,” I say quickly. “No cameras in private spaces. Bedrooms and bathrooms are completely off-limits.”
“And here I was hoping to give Cole’s security team a show,” Chloe says, examining her reflection in one of the display mirrors.
Hailey glances toward the door where Knox had disappeared. “Speaking of the security team... is he always so—”
“Intense?” I smile. “He’s actually pretty nice once you get past the whole military-precision thing. Just very... dedicated to protocols.”
“Super dedicated.” Chloe wiggles her eyebrows at Hailey. “Did you see how he kept looking at you during that security briefing?”
The morning settles into a rhythm after that.
Hailey proves to have an incredible eye for detail, while Chloe moves around the workspace with her phone, documenting everything.
She has a gift for finding the perfect angle, the way light catches each stone.
“This is going to break Instagram,” she says, zooming in on a particularly intricate piece.
“We should do a whole series of teaser posts leading up to the show.” She’s already wearing one of the tiaras—at completely the wrong angle, but somehow she makes it work for the photos.
“This design is amazing,” Hailey says, examining one of the new pieces. “Did it come to you last night? The metalwork looks fresh.”
Chloe keeps eyeing the cameras while we work, practically vibrating with unasked questions. Finally, she cracks. “Okay, this is torture. We need a camera-free zone.” She looks at me meaningfully. “Like, say, your bedroom?”
I know exactly what she’s after, but honestly, I need to talk about it too. “Break time?” I suggest, and Chloe’s already heading for the door.
The moment my bedroom door closes behind us, Chloe whirls around. “Spill it! Is he with the mafia or not? Serial killer? What deep dark secrets did you learn last night?”
I sink onto my bed, Hailey perching beside me while Chloe paces excitedly. “I...” I twist my hands in my lap. “I didn’t ask.”
“What?” Chloe stops pacing. “You were alone with him all night and you didn’t ask about Julian?”
“I meant to!” I protest. “But last night he was... very convincing about other topics.” I feel my cheeks flush at the memory.
“And then this morning he’s just... This morning he already had coffee waiting—that expensive stuff I love.
And breakfast from Le Petit, which I swear I only mentioned once last week.
Then he sat there asking about every piece in the collection like he actually cares about the creative process.
How am I supposed to bring up potential criminal activities when he’s being so. ..”
“Suspiciously perfect?” Chloe supplies with a grin.
“I’m going with genuinely thoughtful,” Hailey says, but she’s watching me carefully. “Though it might be good to get some answers about the other stuff. Eventually.”
“I mean, there has to be something wrong with him, right?” I glance between them. “Nobody’s this perfect.”
“Tell us everything,” Chloe demands, settling cross-legged on the floor. “Start with the date. Hailey hasn’t heard about the rooftop yet.”
I can’t help smiling at the memory, as I tell them every detail.
“Wait,” Chloe interrupts as we discuss the rooftop date, “he has heating lamps AND fur blankets? That’s not surveillance, that’s romance novel hero territory.”
We’re so caught up in our increasingly inappropriate discussion of Cole’s... assets... that we don’t hear him enter. It’s only when Chloe asks, “But seriously, what’s he like in—” that I notice him leaning in the doorway, eyebrow raised.
The silence is deafening. Then Cole, perfectly deadpan: “Please, don’t let me interrupt what I’m sure is a fascinating technical discussion about jewelry design.”
I want to die. Chloe, naturally, just grins wider.
“We were just taking a break,” I manage, standing up quickly. “Getting back to work now.” I clear my throat. “Cole, this is Chloe Hallman—I’d like her to handle all the marketing for the collection if possible. And Hailey Parker, who might be joining us as my assistant.”
“A pleasure to meet you both,” Cole says with that smile that makes my stomach flip. “I’ll have lunch sent up later. Don’t work too hard.”
The moment he’s out of earshot, Chloe fans herself dramatically.
“Oh my god,” she mouths. I catch Hailey’s eyes roll, but even she’s smiling.
I can’t blame them—in that perfectly tailored suit, with his dark hair slightly messy like he’s been running his hands through it, Cole looks like he just stepped out of a magazine. The kind you hide under your mattress.
Back in the studio, the afternoon is intensely productive. With Hailey’s guidance, I refine three pieces that had been giving me trouble. The collection is taking shape—no longer just pretty winter-inspired jewelry but statements of power and protection. Each piece tells a story of transformation.
As they’re packing up for the day, Hailey helps me organize the pieces into a cohesive collection story. “These aren’t just accessories,” she explains, laying them out in sequence. “They’re weapons disguised as beauty. Every woman who wears them will feel invincible. Like an Ice Queen.”
Hailey pauses, then turns to me. “Listen, about the assistant position... I’d love to take it. After today, I can see exactly where you’re going with this collection, and I’d be honored to help bring it to life. If you think we’d work well together?”
“Are you kidding?” I grin. “You’ve already helped solve three design problems I’ve been stuck on for days. When can you start?”
Plans are made for Hailey to return tomorrow. Knox arrives to escort them out, and I don’t miss how Hailey lingers a bit, or how he stands just a fraction closer to her than strictly necessary in the elevator.
After they leave, I settle back at my worktable, taking out fresh materials for one final piece.
The design has been forming in my mind all day—a choker that reflects these new sensations of yielding and taking control.
I work methodically, positioning each crystal with precision, creating clean lines that follow the natural curve of the throat.
The metalwork is delicate but sturdy, the crystals arranged to refract light in sharp, controlled patterns.
As I work, I think about last night, about the way Cole’s firm touch made me feel both protected and dangerous.
This piece needs to do the same thing—to make the wearer feel secure while serving as a subtle reminder of their own power.
Hours pass as I perfect every detail. When I finally set down my tools, my hands are steady but my neck and shoulders ache from hunching over the workbench.
The choker sits complete on my work surface, exactly as I’d envisioned it.
Each crystal catches the late afternoon light streaming through the windows, creating small points of brightness on the table.
It’s more than just a piece of jewelry—it’s a statement about choice and control, about finding strength in surrender.
My phone buzzes just as I’m stretching out the knots in my shoulders. A text from Cole: Wear it to dinner.