I need to move.
I need to go, because this place is dangerous.
I tiptoe to the nightstand where I left my purse and freeze.
It’s gone.
No. No, no, no.
I whip around, scanning every surface in the room. The floor. Under the bed. In the bathroom. Nothing.
My purse is gone, and with it, my phone, wallet, ID, and credit card. Also, the forty-seven bucks in cash I was counting on to at least get me to the airport.
“Shit.” I drag both hands through my hair. “Shit, shit, shit.”
Okay, okay. Deep breaths.
It has to be here.
Unless he took it.
I glance toward the door as that realization hits like a ton of bricks.
Benedikt probably snatched it the second he realized I might make a run for it.
My stomach sinks, and I press a palm to it, trying to keep the panic from boiling over, but I’m shaking. I feel cold and hot at the same time.
I just need a plan.
I look out the window. There’s a fire escape out there, but I’d have to break the lock on the window to get out and climb down from the penthouse suite.
Spinning on my heels, I stand in the middle of the room, breathing hard and staring at the empty room. I need to move.
I look around until I see my shoes. Black, strappy, uncomfortable, they sit tucked beneath the tipped-over chair near the minibar. I snatch them up and shove my feet into them, wincing at how tight they are after I’ve been barefoot for so long.
No time to care.
I smooth down the hem of my dress and walk toward the door like I belong here and am not seconds away from falling apart and escaping a kidnapping.
The hallway is quiet. No signs or voices of Benedikt, Artem, or any guards.
Keeping my head down, I move quickly toward the elevator. Each step echoes off the walls, but I don’t dare turn around.
If I do, I might start to cry.
Slamming the elevator button with more force than necessary, I pray that it doesn’t ding loud enough to alert the whole floor.
The doors open, and it’s empty inside.
Perfect.
I step inside, press the button for the lobby, and wrap my arms around myself. My throat tightens as I take deep breaths to calm myself as the carriage moves slowly toward the ground.
I just want to get out of here.
Son, the elevator dings and opens into the lobby. Music from the lounge hums low. A few late-night guests linger near the reception desk, laughing and tipsy from the bar.
No one even looks at me.
