Chapter 5 - Forty-Second Floor

I shut the laptop and killed the screen.

"Behind the desk," I whispered.

Vanessa stared at me. "Are you serious?"

The handle turned.

"Now."

For once, she listened.

Adrian pulled Eleanor toward the inner conference room. I moved beside the door.

A man entered wearing a hotel maintenance jacket.

He carried no toolbox.

He carried a suppressed pistol.

I grabbed his wrist before he cleared the doorway and drove it into the frame. The gun fell. Adrian kicked it under the desk.

The man hit me with his shoulder.

Hard.

I went into the wall, saw white, then came back swinging. One short strike to his throat. One to the ribs. He folded enough for me to hook his arm and put him on the carpet.

No spinning. No movie nonsense.

Just leverage and panic.

"Who sent you?"

He answered by reaching inside his jacket.

Adrian stepped on his wrist.

"Bad idea."

The second weapon was a folding knife.

Vanessa was staring at the man.

Not frightened.

She knew him.

"You," she whispered.

Eleanor heard it. "You know this person?"

Vanessa backed away. "No."

The man laughed through clenched teeth. "Still lying, V?"

Every face turned toward her.

"Shut up," Vanessa said.

"Who is he?" Adrian demanded.

She looked at the floor.

"His name is Caleb Morse. He used to work for my father."

"Your father died twelve years ago."

"Caleb didn't."

The man on the floor smiled at me. "Neither did everyone else."

I tightened my grip. "Where is Martin?"

"Running out of time."

"Where?"

"Ask your dead partner."

My body went completely still.

"Lena is not dead."

"Depends when you ask."

Then an alarm finally began screaming through the building.

Adrian's phone lit up with a security alert.

FIRE - LEVEL 38.

Eleanor swore under her breath.

I looked at the man I was holding.

He wasn't trying to escape anymore.

He was smiling.

The fire wasn't a distraction to get him in.

It was a distraction to get someone else out.

I opened Adrian's office door and looked toward the stairwell.

May you like

Billionaire’s Wife Kicked a Waitress in Front of 300 Elites—One Slap Exp...

The billionaire’s wife tried to kick a waitress in the face in front of 300 wealthy guests. But seconds later, she whispered three...

My Mother Grabbed My Wife by the Hair Over Cold Soup—But What My Father...

My mother grabbed my wife by the hair over a bowl of cold soup. And the most shameful part? For one terrible second, I almost defe...

My Parents Kicked My 6-Year-Old Daughter and Me Out on Christmas—Then I...

My mother kicked my six-year-old daughter out of Christmas dinner, never realizing I was the only reason she still had a house to...

Smoke was already climbing up from below.

And on the security monitor across the hall, I saw Martin Shaw entering the thirty-eighth-floor records room with a red gasoline can.