She’s gone white as her coat.
“Sloane?” I whisper, my stomach dropping. “You okay?”
She doesn’t answer.
She doesn’t even blink.
Onstage, Joe grabs the mic.
“Hello, Elm Hollow! We’re here to prove that true love conquers all!” he announces, in a voice so sugary it should come with a dental warning.
Then he does something that flips a switch inside me.
He turns.
Looks straight at Sloane.
And winks.
A slimy, familiar, too-comfortable wink.
Sarah giggles beside him and clings tighter, shooting Sloane a look that’s all venom wrapped in faux sweetness.
I hear Sloane’s breath hitch—sharp, painful.
My body moves before my brain does.
I shift, putting my shoulder squarely between her and that asshole.
I grip her hand tighter, trying to warm her icy fingers.
“Who the hell is that?” I growl so low only she can hear.
Sloane swallows.
Her throat works once.
“No one,” she says. But her voice is glass cracking. “Just… Couple Eight. Competition.”
She’s lying.
Obviously lying.
Why the hell is she lying?
I look at Joe again—now kissing Sarah’s hand to wild applause.
I don’t know who he is.
I don’t know what he did.
But I know one thing: I hate him.
Because the strongest woman I’ve ever met just shattered—for a split second—at the sight of him.
And that alone is enough to put him at the top of my hit list.
“And finally!” Nino booms, hitting the peak of his theatrics, voice cracking with excitement. “Our Captains! The couple who set fire to the tabloids, the lingerie shops, and the Town Assembly! Sloane and Cohen!”
