Chapter 33.
The jeweler’s was next- a private room in a hotel suite where a man laid out velvet trays of diamonds and gold. Kane ignored the flashy, multi-carat stones. He reached for a simple, vintage-style band: a thin circle of blackened gold set with a single, deep violet sapphire that matched the bruises on Harper’s skin and the color of the Vegas sky. "It's not a diamond," Kane noted, sliding the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. "It’s better," Harper replied, looking at the dark stone. "It looks like it’s survived something." Kane picked out a matching band for himself- heavy, brushed tungsten that felt like a piece of his GTO’s engine. As they walked back out into the neon-soaked night, the ivory satin of Harper’s dress fluttering in the warm desert breeze, she felt a stra
- Writer
