Chapter 7

"Yes," Nicholas replied.

"Come in," Harry said, stepping aside but leaving the door open, probably so he could toss them out at a moment's notice.

I poked my head out of the studio and saw Nicholas and his assistant sitting on my couch, stiff as statues.

Nicholas's gaze swept over the tiny apartment, a 300-square-foot studio with the living room and bedroom all in one.

The walls were plastered with jewelry design sketches, and on the coffee table sat a half-eaten bowl of spaghetti, the scent of bolognese sauce hanging in the air.

His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.

I knew…