My blood ran cold, like freezing.
“Marcus broke into the penthouse?” The security guard nodded too quickly. Alexander’s face went dark right away, pure fury.
“When?” he demanded.
“About forty minutes ago, sir,” Alexander muttered under his breath. Next to me, Damian’s expression went hard, like stone.
“Okay, but how the hell did he slip past security?”
“We’re still checking it.”
Yeah, that answer was not good enough. Alexander was already moving. “Take me there.”
The ride back toward Manhattan felt endless, seriously. Nobody talked, nobody had to because one question kept looping inside my head, over and over, again.
Why?
Why would Marcus risk literally everything to get into Alexander’s penthouse?. It didn’t fit, it didn’t click, unless… he wasn’t chasing money.
