Corrupt(13)

A pounding echoed above me, and I spared a quick glance upward, seeing a hand sliding down the railings as whoever it was jumped flights of stairs.

Oh, my God. I raced down, one flight after the other, a drop of sweat gliding down my neck. The pounding was getting closer and closer, my legs about to give out as my exhausted muscles worked as fast as they could. I gasped, seeing the door labeled LOBBY. I yanked it open and burst through, looking behind me once again to see if he—or she—was behind me.

But then I slammed into a wall, and I let out a small cry as hands gripped my upper arms.

I looked up and exhaled a breath, seeing Michael Crist towering over me, his eyes narrowed.

“Michael?” I breathed out, frozen in confusion.

“What the hell are you doing?” He arched a brow and set me back, away from him, and let go of my arm. “It’s after one a.m.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Why was he here?

He stood in front of an elevator, a different one than I had taken this morning, dressed in a black suit, looking like he’d just been at a club or something. A young brunette stood next to him, beautiful in a tight, navy-blue cocktail dress that fell mid-thigh.

I suddenly felt exposed, dressed in my silk sleep shorts and black tank top, my hair hanging about, probably in tangles.

“I…” I looked over my shoulder again, noticing that whoever had followed me down the stairs hadn’t come out the door yet.

I twisted my head back, looking up at Michael. “I heard something up on my floor,” I told him.

And then I shook my head, still confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he shot back, and I immediately recognized that ever-present intolerant tone that he always used with me.

“Live here?” I questioned. “I thought you lived in your family’s building.”

He slid a hand into his pocket and cocked his head, looking at me point-blank like I was stupid.

I closed my eyes, expelling a sigh. “Of course,” I breathed out, realization hitting. “Of course. You’re the one who lives on the twenty-second floor.”

I started connected all the pieces: the separate elevator he and the girl stood by, the lone gentleman living above me, Mrs. Crist sending me the link for Delcour as a suggestion and not telling me their family owned the building…

And the luxury apartment all to myself, ready to go and just waiting for me.

Mrs. Crist—and most likely her husband as well—made sure I ended up here. Keeping me close and under their thumb.

“And who’s this?”

I glanced over, seeing the young woman with chocolate hair and piercing eyes, polished like a movie star on premiere night.

Michael looked ahead, his lips twisting slightly. “My little brother’s girlfriend.”

“Aw…” she responded.

I averted my eyes, aggravated.

His little brother’s girlfriend. He couldn’t even say my name.

And I wasn’t Trevor’s girlfriend anymore. I wasn’t sure if he knew that, but it had been months. It had to have come up in conversation in his house.

“What did you hear?” he demanded, and I looked up to see him staring down at me.

I hesitated, not sure if I should I tell him about the noises or the woman’s cries. I didn’t feel safe up there now, and I wanted a manager, but Michael barely gave me the time of day. He probably wouldn’t hear anything I had to say.

“Nothing,” I finally said, letting out a sigh. “Forget it.”

He studied me for a moment and then reached out and swiped a white card in front of a sensor on the wall, his private elevator doors immediately opening. He turned to the girl. “Don’t get too comfortable. I’ll be up in a minute.”

She nodded, a slight smile playing on her lips as she walked into the elevator and pushed the button, the doors quickly closing before her.

Michael ignored me and walked over to the front desk, talking to the person on security. The man nodded and handed him what appeared to be keys, and then Michael sauntered back over to me, his height and athletic frame making my mouth go dry again.

God, he was beautiful.

After all these years, my entire life following him with my eyes, my body still warmed whenever he was close.

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to dull the thud of my thrilled heart. I shouldn’t want to be close to him. Not after how he’d pushed me away nearly my entire life and treated me all those years ago.

I brought my hand up to my neck, absently running a finger over the jagged line.

“Simon is going to do a walk-through of the stairwell and your floor,” he told me. “Come on. I’ll take you up.”

“I said forget it,” I insisted, not budging. “I don’t need help.”

But he walked to the other elevator anyway, and I spotted the security guard opening the door to the stairwell and disappearing.

Reluctantly, I followed Michael, stepping into the elevator in my bare feet and watching him push twenty-one.

“You know what floor I live on?” I asked.

But he didn’t answer.

The elevator began ascending, and I stood there next to him, trying to remain still. I didn’t want to breathe too hard or fidget too much. I’d always been hyper-aware of Michael, and I was afraid he could tell. Maybe if I thought he saw me as anything other than trivial, I wouldn’t worry what he thought so much.