Page 54 of Claimed By the Ruthless King

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Salvatore clenches his jaw, looking side-to-side, before pulling me away from the lobby. “Here,” he says, guiding me down a dark corridor, stopping me when we reach the elevators. He presses the call button. “We’ll talk in private.”

“We did enough of that yesterday morning.”

Salvatore ignores my comment, sliding into the elevator when it arrives. He ushers me in, selecting the button for the highest level.

After an awkward ride up, the elevator spits us out at the very top of the building

“Where are we going?” I ask, since he’s leading me away from our office.

“You’ll see.” Salvatore unlocks the door at the other end of the corridor, one I have never walked through.

I keep my distance, my pulse spiking as I wonder what could be on the other side of this door.

Salvatore cracks the door open, holding it open for me.

I flash him a glare, crossing the threshold. A strong gust of wind slaps me right across the face unexpectedly.

“Keep walking,” instructs Mr. Moretti, his voice deep and commanding.

Fuck. This cannot be good.

I shuffle closer toward the edge of the observatory. The floor is made entirely out of glass. One look down has my heart leaping right out of my chest as I realize how close I am to meeting my death. I would die from the fall alone.

Lights twinkle in the distance as traffic moves between buildings. From this height, everything looks insignificant. Forget about the type of car you drive, the clothes on your back. Everything loses value when a hundred stories up in the air, ready to meet your death.

Now I see why Wilson died because of a heart attack…

“You told me you weren't going to hurt me.”

“This won’t hurt,” says Salvatore, pulling me forward. He guides me to the edge, where a single pane of glass separates us from the night.

“Take a look at the city,” says Mr. Moretti. He stands behind me, not really giving me much option to turn around and leave.

Skyscrapers shoot into the sky in all directions, flashing red at the top to make pilots aware of their presence. Distant horns echo through the wind, sirens drifting away into the distance.

“Look down,” says Salvatore, lowering my head. “See how far the drop is.”

Fear grabs me with both hands, shaking me around. My pulse spikes, my head all over the place as I stare into darkness, measuring the distance of the fall.

“Falling is easy, sweetheart,” he says. “The hardest part is climbing.”

“What are you saying?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level.

Salvatore snakes his arms around my waist, keeping me locked in position. “Living on top of the world can be a very beautiful thing, until you realize how far you have to fall. Nothing is certain. Not even this glass under our feet.”

Great thing to say to a person who is terrified of heights.

I shuffle back, ready to get the fuck back inside, but Salvatore keeps a firm grip on my hips, keeping me in place.

“I didn’t want to make a fuss about Wilson,” he explains. “The dead don’t deserve a ceremony, but Robert insisted.”

“Robert?” I spin around, surprised. “He’s in on the murdering too?”

“Yes. He says I need to show people I care.”

“And do you?”