He swipes to answer the call faster than I’ve ever seen anyone move.
“Sir?”
My lashes flutter.
He’s clearly listening to someone speaking, face etched in nervous fear.
That’s him…
Dom’s forehead lines and he peeks at me. “Oh…kay. Sure… Uh, will do. Right away.”
The call ends, and he tucks his phone away, letting out a breath. “Change of plans.”
And now he’s dragging me in the opposite direction.
I’m relieved. But also not.
Because if thatwasThe Ivory…What did he tell him to do with me?
“Where are we going?” I ask, but Dom doesn’t answer. Not until we’re in an elevator, going up.
“You have been requested to join someone in his private suite.” He eyes me, suspicious, but even more curious.
An ardent sense of fear is causing tremors in my extremities that I’m working very hard to disguise as simple anxious fidgets.
If The Ivory wanted to kill me, confront me or take me hostage, why wouldn’t he have done it before?
I suppose he couldn’t reveal himself in front of Jonah. Even so, the nature of this little meeting could go a hundred different ways. I have to be prepared for anything. And I have to get my shit together, because this could very well be my last shot.
He’s seen my face. He knows my alias, and he knows that I know he’s here. I won’t get another opportunity like this. I have to make it count.
The knife hidden in my sock burns against my flesh as I visualize dozens of different scenarios, preparing potential reactions.
The elevator stops at the highest floor, and Dom nods for me to go, so I do. I step out into a dark corridor, expecting him to be following me. But when I turn over my shoulder, the elevator doors are closing with him still inside.
Okay… guess I’m on my own.
Perfecto.
I gulp, wandering cautiously, assessing my surroundings. The place is quiet, only the faded thumping bass of the music coming from downstairs. And dark, a dim glow lighting my way in only one direction—straight ahead, to a large room.
I can see before I even get inside that it’s a suite, vastly spacious and spread-out, like maybe it was supposed to be offices. But instead, it’s designed like a lavish penthouse, various pieces of elegant furniture scattered about, a bar across the room, a pool table. A few doors that I’m guessing lead to an en suite and some other smaller rooms.
Stepping into the suite, I’m bathed in rich, colored light that melts between magenta, violet, and blue. I should be looking for him, but my gaze is momentarily captured by a spectacular view.
Floor to ceiling windows reveal the buildings and lights of Hell’s Kitchen. I would assume they’re mirrored on the outside, being that this place screams bad things you don’t want people in the adjacent buildings seeing you do.
“Quite the view… isn’t it?”
The voice startles me, but I don’t show it. Spine stiff, I turn my face slowly, placing him at last, standing by the bar. Or rather, leaning against it, a glass of brown liquor in hand.
Devil mask still in place.
He takes a sip while I stand still, in the middle of the giant room, contemplating.
We’re… alone?
He brought me in here alone?
