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“Got to be. Sinclair gets the big brands chasing her all the time. This girl doesn’t. The work she’s done recently, she’s been doing for free to try to build her portfolio. They didn’t even use any of her shots from the last shoot she was on with Sinclair.”

“Cutthroat industry,” Killian mutters.

“Yeah. She’s about to find out how much.”

Theodora’s stealing furtive glances over at me. She knows something’s wrong.

“Maybe it’s not Neil I should be warning you not to kill.”

“Maybe,” I murmur, staring at her as she starts to look really uncomfortable at my attention.

“All right. Give me an update once you have one.”

“Will do,” I reply, hanging up.

I walk over to where Sinclair’s now in a white bridal set comprising of a corset and stockings and suspender belt.

“Wanted a close up, huh?” She giggles as I stop beside her.

“I’m not looking at this one, Princess,” I whisper.

“Why not?” she asks playfully.

“Because the only time I want to admire something like this is when I’m taking it off my wife,” I rasp.

“Oh.” Her voice falters.

I lean a little closer until the back of my hand brushes hers. No one around us will notice; they’re all too busy rushing about, keeping the show running.

“You’ll look even better in it when my ring’s on your finger,” I say, flexing my ring finger against hers.

She shivers and my blood heats from the sound of her breath catching in her throat. I shouldn’t be saying it. I’m crossing every damn line there is. But I can’t stop myself. It spills out before I can hold it back.

It’s what I crave.

Her being mine. Forever.

No matter how wrong or unlikely that might be.

Sinclair’s swept toward the runway to line up behind another model who is about to walk out, and I feel the loss of her body next to mine like a limb has been torn off.

Theodora’s unsure eyes meet mine as I glare at her.

“You going to give it back nicely, or am I going to have to take it?” I hiss.

“What are you talking about?” Her eyes narrow like she thinks she can play dumb. But I’ll shout it out in front of everyone if that’s what she wants.

I’ll rip her to shreds with an audience.

“You know what.”

She glances to the side, checking where Sinclair is.

“She’ll know what you did soon. The minute you give it back, you’re going to walk out of here and get into the cop car that’s waiting outside for you, where they’re going to charge you with vandalism, malicious communications, and theft.”

“You can’t prove anything,” she snaps. She looks me up and down, pretending she’s unaffected, but her bottom lip is trembling as she blinks fast. “Don’t tell me… you’re another person who’s in love with her?” She snorts. “Why does everyone think Sin’s so special?”

“Because she is special,” I grit. “And that’s why roaches like you want to crawl all over her, spreading their poison.

But Theodora”—I lean close so my lips are at her ear—“you didn’t count on me.

I know exactly what kind of girl you are.

And soon everyone else will too. You’ll never work in fashion again. ”

She shudders before snapping her chin up to glare at me.

“You’re just some paid henchman for the Beauforts. How’s it feel knowing they could ditch you at any moment and you’d be on the outside? Then you’d be like the rest of us, living in their shadow,” she spits. “Her father owns half the fucking city. What chance does anyone else have?”

“Sinclair is where she is because she works hard. And because she doesn’t shit on other people to get to where she is. She’s liked. She’s respected. She isn’t trash .”

“You’re an idiot if you think she won’t turn on you once she’s fed up.

I get it, the whole protective bodyguard vibe is hot.

But you’re a plaything to her. Everyone in their world is disposable.

Rumor has it her father killed her mother because he’s always preferred younger women.

Just look at who he’s marrying now. She’s twenty years younger than him. ”

The venom in Theodora’s voice is ripped from her throat as she lets out a garbled gasp.

“What did you just say?”

She looks back at Sinclair and grabs her wrist, which is embedded in Theodora’s scalp, pinning her in place by her hair.

I catch Sinclair’s eye and the look she gives me is a warning.

But she doesn’t need to worry. She can have her minute with Theodora before the cops take her away. I’m not going to interfere.

I take a step back, cracking my neck as Sinclair yanks Theodora’s hair.

“Denver? Did she take it?”

She heard every word. She came closer the moment I had Theodora’s full attention on me. She knew something was wrong. The same way I knew I didn’t trust Theodora the first time I met her.

Instinct.

“She did.”

Sinclair’s eyes go wide as she looks back at Theodora, who’s flailing about pathetically, at the mercy of Sinclair’s iron grip on her.

“Where is it?” Sinclair asks her. “Where is it?!” she shouts when Theodora says nothing.

The entire backstage area has gone deathly silent. All eyes are on Sinclair as she marches Theodora over to her bag and thrusts her toward it, not loosening her grip on her hair.

“I’m not letting go until you give it back. So I hope for your sake it’s in that ugly thing.”

Theodora struggles some more. “You’re a bitch!”

“Yeah? Takes one to know one,” Sinclair replies calmly, shoving her toward her bag again. “Now give it back.”

Theodora scrabbles to open her bag. She shoves her hand inside and then screeches as she flings something out of it.

The necklace hits the floor and skids across it, stopping near my feet. Sinclair gasps and lets go of Theodora as if she’s about to race after it.

“Sinclair?”

Her glassy eyes lift to meet mine and the unshed tears in them gut me. But my girl’s a fighter. And she’s going to win this one.

“I don’t think that’s the way to hand someone something precious, do you?” I tip my head toward Theodora who’s rubbing at the matted tuft of hair on the back of her hair.

Sinclair turns to her, hatred oozing from her. “Pick it up,” she spits.

“No.”

“Sinclair. Come here,” I say.

She looks at me, her eyes full of fire. But she does as I say, keeping her head high as she walks over to me.

“Don’t touch it,” I say in a soft voice as she comes to stand beside me.

Her necklace is at our feet, and a tiny whimper shakes her shoulders as she glances at it. She’s been through enough. She doesn’t deserve this. And bullies like Theodora only learn their lesson when someone has the balls to stand up to them.

“Theodora,” I instruct. “Pick it up.”

Theodora’s eyes dart around the room at the captive audience we’ve attracted. Even the show seems to have ground to a halt, and an announcement rings out over the speaker system apologizing for a brief ‘technical issue’. It’s because Sinclair should be on the runway right now.

Theodora’s lip curls in disgust in understanding as she listens to it.

The whole show has stopped because they won’t do it without Sinclair.

“Fine.” Theodora takes a step.

“Stop.”

She falters at my command and stares at me.

“On the floor.”

Sinclair sucks in a small breath next to me as Theodora’s eyes widen.

“You can’t be?—”

“Serious?” I arch a brow. “If there’s one thing I definitely can be, it’s serious. Would you agree, Sinclair?”

Her eyes glint as she meets my gaze. “Oh yeah, Denver’s always serious. He doesn’t make jokes. Ever.”

“That’s right. I don’t. She never laughs, so it must be true.”

A couple of seconds pass as we look at one another. Then there’s a collective murmur as Theodora drops to her knees.

“Better,” I grunt, looking at her sniveling on the ground. I don’t take pleasure in humiliating her. But I know it’s the only thing that will make her understand the effect of her actions. “Now… crawl.”

“What?” she snaps.

“Didn’t you hear him?” Sinclair says. “I did.”

“So did I,” another model pipes up.

“Yeah, me too,” calls out another.

“The fine man said crawl , dear,” the makeup artist who covered up Sinclair’s scratches drawls.

Everyone watches as she slowly shuffles along the floor on her hands and knees. She stops in front of me and Sinclair and reaches out for the necklace.

I place my shoe over a tiny piece of the chain before she can pick it up.

“I think you’re missing something.”

She lifts her head, looking at me through smudged mascara.

“An apology?” I add, moving my foot back.

“I’m sorry,” she spits, swallowing hard as she picks the necklace up. She puts it into Sinclair’s waiting, outstretched hand.

The shaky exhale of Sinclair’s held breath almost makes me miss Theodora’s uttered words.

“What?” I snarl.

“I said…” She looks at Sinclair with a cruel smile. “Such a big fuss over something worthless.”

I wrap a hand around Sinclair’s hipbone, squeezing it gently to stop her taking Theodora out in front of all the camera phones that are now recording us.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Sinclair says, looking at her in pity. “I bet you’ve never known anyone as brilliant as my brother in your life.” She gazes at her necklace like she can’t believe she has it back. “ It’s priceless .”

“Maybe…” Theodora sneers. “If it were actually him in that diamond. But it’s not.”

“What?” Sinclair jolts. “Of course it is. Sullivan made it himself.”

“The ashes used to make that diamond were of someone with African descent,” Theodora says, smiling like she’s enjoying the wavering that’s creeping into Sinclair’s voice.

“How would you know?”

“I got it tested. It’s why I took it. You’re always playing the victim, Sin.

Rubbing that thing, getting all the pity.

I thought it was a clever touch. Increase your public support while bringing more awareness to your family’s business.

I expected it to be fake, just a normal diamond, not one made of human ashes.

But it’s real. You’ve been carrying a dead person around your neck like a weird shrine, only it’s some nobody, not Sl?—”

“Don’t you dare say his name!” Sinclair cries. “Don’t you dare!”

“Get up!” I hiss at Theodora. “And get out of here. Your ride’s waiting outside.”

She takes her time getting up and pulling her clothes on, a smug smirk on her face as Sinclair turns the necklace over and over in her palm, studying it.

“Denver,” she chokes.

“Don’t think about it now. We’ll get it checked.”

But even as I say it, I’m sure that Theodora’s telling the truth.

And my biggest fear is what it’ll do to Sinclair when she knows it too.