Page 95 of He Knows When You're Awake

The first Russian clamps my head in a viselike grip while the other produces a small spray bottle. “This make eyes open,” he warns, positioning it uncomfortably close to my face.

Great. Threats of chemical warfare. That’s totally going to make me cooperate.

“You won’t win,” Julian says calmly, watching my desperate attempts. “Everyone breaks eventually. Maya did. Even Claire did, in her way.”

He pulls out his phone, smile widening. “Besides, I think Cole should be here for this conversation. I’m sure he’s wondering where you are by now.” He smiles, all predator, as he pulls out his phone. “Why don’t we give him a call?”

Chapter Thirty-SevenCole

Something’s wrong.

I feel it the moment the elevator doors open. The penthouse is too quiet, too still. No Christmas music drifting from the kitchen where Sloane had insisted on attempting to cook. No sound of Havoc’s nails clicking across the hardwood as he races to greet me.

“Sloane?” My voice echoes in the silence.

A whine draws me to the living room. Havoc sits alone by the Christmas tree, tail thumping weakly against the floor. An ornament rolls beneath the couch, city lights from the window catching the silver ball.

The security panel by the elevator glows red instead of green.

I scan the room, cataloging details with growing dread. A half-empty wineglass on the coffee table. The faint scent of something burnt from the kitchen. A cold mug of coffee on the counter, a perfect red lipstick print on the rim.

My feet carry me to her workspace before my mind fully processes why. The display cases are empty. Not just one or two pieces—all of them. Every prototype, every finished design. Gone.

I reach for my phone just as Knox bursts through the stairwell door, tactical gear still on, face grim.

“They took her.” His words hit like bullets. “Didn’t even try to hide it. Left the cameras running. They wanted us to see.”

My phone starts vibrating. Julian’s name lights up the screen.

“Don’t.” Knox’s command is sharp. “That’s exactly what he wants. He’s expecting you to answer, to come charging in. He’s got a trap laid out, just waiting for you to spring it.”

The phone keeps buzzing. Each ring feels like a year of my life.

“Trust me on this, Cole.” Knox steps closer, his voice low and intense. “I’ve seen this playbook a hundred times in the field. The staged scene, the obvious breadcrumbs, the perfectly timed call. It’s Psychological Warfare 101. He’s counting on you to be emotional, to rush in without thinking.”

“To hell with that.” My voice is razor-sharp. “I’m not leaving her with that psychopath for one more second.”

“Listen to me.” Knox’s eyes lock onto mine. “The moment you answer that phone, he owns you. He’ll have his threat ready—his ‘do what I say or else.’ And then every minute she’s with him becomes another weapon he can use against you. The only way to keep her safe is to take that power away from him.”

I grip the phone so hard the case creaks. “If he hurts her—”

“He won’t. Not yet. This is about you. About making you suffer. Making you watch.” Knox’s voice drops lower. “So let’s make him suffer instead. Let’s make him wait.”

The phone stops ringing. Starts again immediately.

“You know what’s worse than fear?” Knox continues. “Anticipation. Uncertainty. Let them sit there all night, jumping at every sound, wondering if this is it. Let them stare at the monitors, at the doors, at their phones. Let them get tired. Sloppy.”

“You want me to wait until morning.” The words taste like ash.

“I want you to be the Cole Asher who built an empire by never doing what anyone expected. The one who wins because he thinksthree moves ahead.” Knox’s eyes are steady. “Julian’s got this whole night choreographed in his head. So let’s rewrite his script.”

The phone rings a third time.

“He took her on Christmas Eve for a reason,” Knox says. “Made it personal. So let’s return the favor. Let’s make him spend his whole night wondering why you’re not playing your part in his little drama.”

“Do we know where they took her?” My voice is barely controlled.

Knox nods grimly. “Working on it. Pulling surveillance from every street camera in a ten-mile radius. But...” He hesitates. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.”