The Architect Nikki Sloane Novels & Stories

She opened a fresh notebook and began sketching her cover: Name: Sloane March Occupation: Behavioral consultant for high-performance executives Background: Stanford MBA, boutique firm in Tribeca Personality: Confident, curious, emotionally intelligent Hook: She’d “accidentally” cross paths with Julian at a private tech roundtable in SoHo—an event she’d already arranged to be invited to. She’d need to study his work, his language, his rhythms. She’d need to become someone he couldn’t resist—not because she was beautiful, but because she was a mirror. Someone who understood him. Reflected him. Challenged him.

Chapter 38 Kashton tried to maintain his calmness as he was led into the large office where he was supposed to meet the renowned architect. He was an alpha, and although he was in awe of the building and everything he had seen so far, Kashton tried his best not to let it show. He had been able to find out that the name of the architect was Nora Vance. Kashton was shocked to find out about this, since he always assumed the designer was a man.

Sloane was last, in the yard, standing beside the truck with the dawn still an hour off. "Marlowe's man arrives Friday," she said. "His name's Petra. He'll sit at my table and read our books and report everything to a man who has already decided we're a county." She said it without heat. "I've got until then to make this pack look like something worth annexing carefully rather than quickly." "Sloane, I'm sorry." "Don't." Sloane's pale eyes came round. "Don't apologise to me. You'll do it wrong and I'll have to be gracious about it and I'm not any good at that."

she said without turning around. "With the doorway?" "She said the building needs a way in." I looked at the twelve-block structure with its deliberate entrance. A building needs a way in. Fourteen months old, and she'd identified the first principle. "She gets that from you," Nadia said. "She gets the principle from both of us," I said. Nadia turned around. We looked at each other across the kitchen with our daughter between us, examining her first architectural achievement. "The Ford Foundation introduction," she said. "Monday. He's sending the contact details tomorrow." "And the profile journalist. She wants to include the Red Hook project."

Elaine looked at her with the specific expression of someone who was confirming something they had believed about a person and finding the confirmation exactly as good as they had hoped. "The architect is coming tomorrow," Elaine said. "Can you be here?" "I can be here," Ayesha said. "Good," Elaine said. "Because the architect has strong opinions and I've been told that you do too and the interaction between those two sets of opinions is probably how the right answer gets found." Ayesha said, "Who is the architect?" Elaine said, "Her name is Danielle Osei. She's worked on three gallery conversions in New York in the last five years and she has a specific view about how the space should funct

“We need a task. A mission. A distraction before I end up dragging him into the back seat of his truck in broad daylight.” Sloane grins wide. “Perfect. Let’s find you a place.” I blink. “Today?” “There’s no time like the present, sweetheart.” She links our arms again, wine-drunk determination in her eyes. “You need a kitchen you can get railed in without parental interruptions. I need a distraction from falling in love with my emotionally stunted boss. Let’s go harass a realtor.” “You’re insane.” She beams. “So are you. Let’s be insane together.”

"It's why we're here. We need a hacker. Trevor told us Sloane has the best tech people," "What about the mortals?" "We need someone with animal speed. They didn't make it past the third wall. I think they were using a vampire to setup their shit," "You would be correct, Alpha Jaykob," Sloane comes down in a black satin dress that compliments her body perfectly. Her chestnut brown hair is down for the first time since I've met her and it makes her lime green eyes that much prettier. I press my lips together trying so hard not to laugh. She has my brother's undivided attention.

The sixty-eighth floor of Vance Industries felt empty after midnight, Sloane’s heels echoing on the concrete as she walked back from the kitchenette with cold coffee in her hand while her desk glowed alone in the darkness, covered in plans for the Tokyo flagship that she stayed late to perfect after Nathaniel casually said he liked the idea of blended aesthetics. The building was so quiet she could hear the servers humming three rooms away.

"Isabella Moretti isn't just a financier. She’s a predator who thinks she’s already won the game. We don't just break her bank; we break her fucking spirit." "She won't know what’s hit her," Franco murmured. His dark eyes scanned the perimeter with the practised ease of the Architect. "Sloane and Jessica are in position?" "They’re shadows in the garden," I confirmed, feeling the comforting, lethal weight of my vanguard surrounding us in the dark.

During the reception in the evening, he even called me out by name in his speech. "The Norwell Project's lead, Winona Sutton, is one of the most talented and decisive young designers I've encountered. In her, I see the future of architecture in Caelon." His glowing praise sparked thunderous applause and earned me an incredible amount of publicity overnight. Just when everything seemed to be moving forward, trouble found me again. Zachary began appearing outside my office building. He'd grown thin. His beard was unkempt, his eyes bloodshot, and the effortless confidence he once carried was nowhere to be found.