It was already past midnight when the deep silence of the penthouse was broken by the mechanical hum of the main lift. Mindy shot upright from the couch in the study. Sleep vanished from her body at once. She turned toward the wide window, hoping to see the red Jaguar below.
It was not there.
The truth hit her hard. Whoever was coming up in that lift was not Ken. And they were not coming to help her.
Panic rushed through her chest. Mindy looked around wildly. There was no time to pack, no time to think clearly. On a chair near the desk lay Ken’s black hoodie. She snatched it up and pulled it over her head. It hung loose on her small frame.
His cologne still clung to the fabric. Clean. Expensive. Sharp. For one strange second, the scent made her feel safer. Then the lift hummed louder.
