I stood. ‘Brief me on the way. Dom, call the pilot. Prep the plane. File the flight plan. Let me know the moment it’s approved.’Dominic was already on his phone. ‘Got it, boss. Destination?’‘Paris.’‘You’re going to Paris?’ Lea asked.I nodded. ‘Franklin Vance was Mira’s father. The news of his death will be a shock. I need to be there.’‘I’ll walk you down.’ She matched my stride as I headed for the executive lift. ‘What did he do to end up in prison?’‘Embezzlement, fraud, forgery, tax evasion, the works. When I asked him to make a will leaving everything to Mira, he tried to forge one to shift his assets abroad.’‘Huh. So you had him locked up?’‘He did that to himself. I just sped up the process.’‘Huh,’ she said again.‘What?’ I glanced at her. The lift was already descending.‘Does your wife know?’‘Of course. I told her.’‘So she knows you’re the reason her father went to prison.’‘There was no love lost between them, if that’s what you’re getting at.’‘Like my parents and yo
‘Penny for your thoughts.’I turned from the floor-to-ceiling window. ‘Nothing. Just thinking about work.’Lea didn’t buy it. ‘Work doesn’t make you look like that.’‘Not my work. Mira’s.’I glanced at the phone clenched in my hand. Mira had just texted to say she was extending her stay in Paris. She didn’t say how long. Just that work was piling up, they were short-staffed, and she needed to pull her weight. As if to prove the point, when I called, she barely got two sentences out before cutting the call.Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling there was something she wasn’t saying.It wasn’t what she said—it was how. Something in her tone. A kind of evasiveness.‘Ah, yes, the famous jewellery designer.’ Lea tilted her chin towards the safe in the corner of the office. ‘May I?’I keyed in the code and unlocked it.She removed the top box, opened a velvet case, and lifted out a necklace. ‘What’s this one called again?’‘Veyra.’‘Pretty name. Eliza Black wore it, didn’t she? I remember the
Inspector Silva clearly wasn’t the chatty type.He skipped straight to business once he realised I wasn’t in the mood for niceties.He handed me a file. ‘I must ask you to keep everything you’re about to read strictly confidential. Especially from Monsieur Marchetti—’‘Yeah, yeah, I get it,’ I said, waving a hand. ‘Not a word from me.’The file was in French. With my sad excuse for French skills, I had to use a translation app to even start understanding it. Silva didn’t offer to help. He just sat there watching me wrestle with it like it was some kind of sadistic test.The more I read, the worse it got. For a second, I hoped the app was malfunctioning and spitting out nonsense.But I wasn’t that lucky.I flagged down a waiter and asked for the strongest coffee they had. I needed something industrial-strength.‘If you’ve got this much evidence,’ I said eventually, my voice sounding oddly detached, ‘why haven’t you just arrested him?’If the file was accurate—and it certainly looked it
I rubbed my ear, sank into the nearest chair, and braced myself for a long, punishing lecture.Yvaine didn’t disappoint.‘You ran off to Paris days after getting engaged. You’ve barely lifted a finger for the wedding. Then you spotted some mystery woman in a red dress and immediately decided Ashton must be in love with her and the whole thing’s off. You didn’t even ask him. It’s like you’ve been waiting for something to go wrong, and she just gave you the perfect excuse. Whether anything’s going on or not, you don’t care. You just want out, and now you’ve got a reason.’I made a few non-committal noises to prove I was still on the line. If I didn’t, she might actually book an air taxi and fly to Paris to deliver her bollocking in person.But really, she wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t already clocked—just buried under a few layers of self-delusion.She’d lose her mind if I told her the full plan. That I was thinking of relocating Mira Joie to Paris, which would only prove her theory t
‘If you cut any deeper, you’ll lose a finger.’‘What?’ I looked up.Fabrizio gently took the precision blade from my gloved hand. ‘You’re distracted. Not a great headspace for working with sharp objects.’‘Sorry.’ I stripped off the gloves and stood. ‘Think I need some air.’‘Come to Café Loufoque with me. I’m dying for a noisette, and you could use a caffeine hit too.’‘Sure.’We stepped out of the workshop. Even with my mind elsewhere, something felt off.‘Where is everyone?’ The open-plan office was quieter than usual, half the desks empty.‘On leave,’ Fabrizio said. ‘April is always slow. Most people use up their annual holiday now.’‘Oh.’ I followed him into the lift. ‘I’ve never seen you take a day off.’‘I’m the boss. Can&r
‘Her name’s Lea Marchand—Lea Lopez, once she’s divorced. Her husband’s a drunk, violent arsehole. He turned up at her hotel and wouldn’t leave her alone. I had to get her out. She’s coming back to Skyline with me. He can’t touch her there. His family’s powerful and old-school. The divorce makes them look bad, so they’ll try everything to make her back down…’Ashton’s voice was calm, unemotional. Like he was reading out a weather report.I caught some of the words, but most of it blurred into a low, distant hum.I was preoccupied with the feeling settling heavily in my chest.What I felt was panic.But not the usual kind.I was terrified by how calm I was. And how… relieved.I liked Ashton. That much was still true.But for the first time, I was certain—I didn’t love him.Or maybe I just didn’t deserve to.He was