Page 36 of As the World Falls

“Shit, that was forever ago. That was a nice night.”

“It was. Does your family still mourn him?”

He shrugs, waving his hand. “They got over it quickly.” He pauses, shuffling through a deep drawer. “Wait, I think I’ve got something,” he calls out. I go to his side and observe the manilla folder with my name on the label in his hand. “In an unlocked drawer,” Stef scoffs, glancing at the last bottom drawer.

“Rookie mistake,” I mumble, taking the folder from him and opening it. Several pictures fall out, pictures of Labyrinth headquarters. My warehouses. Underground. Even my apartment in the city. Every news article there is pertaining to my involvement with Stef’s trial last year. I glance over at him as he sighs.

There are several copies of police reports and background checks, but the last pages in the back of the folder caught my eye. “What the hell?” I murmur, pulling it out and reading what looked like a contract.

“Shit,” Stef grouses. “It’s a nondisclosure agreement.”

I flip over another page, and a familiar signature comes into view. “Fucking Hodge Wiseman.”

“He’s in on it too,” Stef remarks as I pull my phone out, snapping pictures of everything inside the folder.

“He has to be the one making the calls. Chuck wouldn’t do it himself. If he’s teamed up with Hodge, it’s not just a ploy for the police force anymore. This is war against my company.”

“Men like him don’t handle loss of control well. Now he’s out for total domination.”

I chuckle, a dark thrill mixed with rage lighting me up from the inside out. If domination is what he’s after, I was more than happy to show it to him.

Chapter Twelve

Cecilia

“That, ladies and gentlemen, is number eleven,” I chime in my head as I count how many times James clenches his jaw. He did it quite a bit when he was frustrated, like right now.

We were meeting with the design team to see what ideas they were recently coming up with that could help the marketing team, but so far, all of the ideas had already been done or were flat-out atrocious. Personally, I didn’t care for jewelry much anyway, but these were just god-awful, and I could tell James thought so, too.

“Is there anyone that has anything worthwhile to show me?” he bites out to the room. I watch as everyone shrinks in their seats, holding their portfolios close to their chests. “Perfect,” he grumbles under his breath, snaking an irritated hand through his hair.

I observed some ideas already thrown out onto the table, feeling absolutely nothing. Jewelry was supposed to make you feel something, right? It was supposed to be romantic and reflect thoughtfulness. I wasn’t getting any of that from these designs. Everything was overly large, harsh, and chunky.

“I want everyone to scrap their ideas and start over. I seem to have hired no one of competence because not a single one of you has gotten the integrity of Labyrinth Crystals through to your sketches.” I gasped quietly at his rudeness, but apparently, it wasn’t quiet enough because his eyes snapped to mine, and he glared at me, like daring to make a sound in his presence was sinful. “Was there something you wanted to add, Cecilia?”

I try to keep from grinding my teeth together as I match his glare. “Nope.”

“Because it sounded like you had an opinion.”

“Well…” I begin shakily. “I think if you were a touch nicer, then maybe people could do their jobs better.”

“I’m nice when it’s warranted. What I was shown today didn’t warrant nicety.”

“Which reflects in their ideas, in my opinion.”

He tilts his head, his new attention feeling like knives pressing into my skin. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Well… you say that Labyrinth as a whole isn’t being reflected in their ideas, but from what I have seen so far, it has. These sketches are rough and unemotional. This place,” I say, looking around me, “feels that way. No wonder it’s bled through their artwork.”

He ticks a brow, his finger tapping slowly against his chin. “So, what are you proposing?”

“I guess some warmth,” I say honestly. “Jewelry should reflect all the warm emotions of the person gifting or buying it, whether it be love, adoration, thoughtfulness or remembrance. It needs to be soft and meaningful. I don’t think I’ve seen anything in your collections that has represented that.”

The room is quiet, and my face heats because I feel like I just rambled off a bunch of nonsense. I look back down to my notebook, which I was doodling in to try and lessen the blow of everyone’s judgment.

“Cecilia,” James’s stark voice calls out. I slowly raise my head to meet his piercing eyes. He stares silently at me for a moment before speaking again, and when he does, it nearly knocks me out of my chair. “You’re right,” he admits. He looks at the people in the room around us. “Let’s take things in a different direction. Everything Cecilia said, I want you to take into consideration when you start your new designs.” Everyone in the room nodded, and I could see people already scribbling down ideas in their notebooks. It gave me a sense of accomplishment, and I felt a little more confident.

I follow James out of the meeting, unable to keep a smile off my face as we head back to his office. “Quit making that face,” he says without turning to look back at me.

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