"Penthouse. Your handprint will work. You've got six hours," Kirill states and hangs up.
Six hours for what?
Vito opens my door. He reaches for my hand to help me out. "Ma'am."
I harden my gaze, take his hand, and get out of the SUV. I push through the gust of wind coming off Lake Michigan.
A young bellman opens the front door. "Ma'am." He nods and stares at me like he knows who I am.
Of course he does. I'm sure he's in the Underworld.
I don't give him another thought, ignore the security at the desk, and head toward the elevator. I push the button.
The doors open, I step inside, and press my palm against the screen. The sound of the metal shutting hits my ears, and the box smoothly rises.
The elevator opens, and I step into a large foyer, then past the front door. A beautiful great room boasts the Chicago skyline, black leather furniture, red accents, and freshly baked cookie scents.
Roaring flames fill the fireplace. I glance around, but no one is in the room. "Hello?" I call out, stepping toward the wall. I turn the button, but the fire doesn't get smaller.
Great.
"Hello? Anyone here?" I try again, strolling down the hallway and looking in rooms. It takes a while to get through the luxury penthouse, but I finally decide no one is here.
I return to the main room and take the bottle of champagne out of the ice bucket. It's melted into mostly water, due to the blazing fire. I pick up a flute and fill it. I drink most of it, trying to cool off, but it only makes me hotter. Still, I top it off and stand next to the glass, staring at the glow of the buildings, wishing I could open a window, but it's one solid piece of thick glass.
What am I doing here?
Six hours.
No answers come. I pace the family room, replaying the evening's events, getting angry all over again.
I studied everything the Omni gave me about Sean Jr. I memorized it until I could recite any fact in my sleep. It was over 100 pages, including supporting photos and other assets, and they only gave me 10 hours to review it. Still, I memorized it all.
Did I miss something?
I do a quick run-through in my head.
No, I didn't. I would have remembered.
A bead of sweat trickles down my face. I realize I'm still wearing my mask.
I pull it over my head, toss it on the table, and lean back, tousling my hair and trying to get the sweaty pieces not to stick to my neck.
A low whistle startles me.
I jump and spin.
The stranger from the fight stands in the doorway, his arms crossed, biceps straining against his T-shirt. An arrogant gaze wrapped inobsenity and promise slips down my body, turning the already-hot room into an uncomfortable inferno.
My heart beats wildly, beads of sweat trickle on my thighs, and every second he spends taking me in intensifies all of it.
He finally pins his dark eyes on me, taunting, "So the mask comes off."
I hold my breath.
His mouth curves, and one eyebrow arches.
Snap out of it,I scold myself.
