Chelle
The next day, I head out of my building to wait for my Russian chauffeur/bodyguard. Nikolai wanted me to call in sick to work, but I refused. There was way too much work to be done, and Janette’s not the type of boss who lets you work from home. She likes to do things in person.
I did promise not to go out to lunch, and I texted him an hour before I was ready to be picked up in the evening.
Traffic seems to be stalled in front of our building with construction. I scan the cars for his red Tesla.
My phone beeps with an incoming text. I reach for it in my purse at the same time something hard presses in my back.
“Scream and you’re dead.” The rough male voice behind me is unfamiliar.
My fingers close around my phone, and I hold it tight, my mind racing to formulate a plan.
“I’ll
