Page 88 of No Longer Mine

“I thought you were going to Cabo?”

I shrugged. “Sick.”

His eyes narrowed as he leaned farther into the room. “How’s your wife holding up?”

I blinked. “She’s healing up good.”

I watched as his hand moved to his side, and my back straightened. “She disappointed yous missin’ the trip?”

“What can you do?” I dusted along the chair and some of the wall as I moved closer to the doors that led to the balcony. My heart was going 90 to nothing, and I could hardly breathe. I just needed him to go away.

“I didn’t think the Sinclair’s had a night service.”

“It’s new, they wanted their beds turned down for them.”

His jaw clenched. “Darla doesn’t come in if she’s sick. She is too afraid of getting the Cristof’s sick. She wouldn’t come do a turn in at night, especially.”

His fingers wrapped around his gun, and I didn’t care anymore. I threw the duster at him as I took off running.

“Hey!” he shouted, but I was already halfway to the balcony.

I didn’t have time to think. The moment I reached the railing, I vaulted over it, fingers scraping against the cold metal as I twisted my body midair. The other building was just close enough—I had to make it.

The wind whipped against my face as I stretched for the opposite ledge. My fingers grazed the edge of the balcony, and for a terrifying second, I thought I’d miscalculated. At the last second, my hands caught metal, the force jarred right through my body. I let out a grunt as I dangled there for a split second before swinging myself up and scrambling over the railing.

A gunshot cracked through the night, and pain laced through my body. I let out a gasp as I continued to run for my life. I pressed my hand to my side and swallowed back the cry I desperately wanted to let out.

I bolted across the balcony and ducked into the shadows. The curtains on the sliding door were drawn, but the lock was flimsy—one good shove and I was inside a darkened living room. Another gunshot let out, and glass shattered behind me. He wasn’t going to stop until I was dead.

Warm blood seeped through my fingers, sticky and hot even against the chill of the night air. I couldn’t stop. Couldn’t let the pain slow me down.

I stumbled forward, forcing my legs to keep moving. Even though the space was unfamiliar, I didn’t have time. He would be right behind me if he hadn’t already sent someone up. The pain was blinding but I didn’t have the luxury of stopping.

“Oliver?” I gasped out.

Silence met my ears. I reached up to find my ear empty. My comms must have fallen out when I jumped across the balcony. I yanked the front door open and raced across the hall. I couldn’t take the elevator, though I didn’t know if I could manage the stairs either. I was too far away from the safe house, and I didn’t have a phone to call an Uber.

Thankfully, the uniforms were of dark material. I tossed the wig into a garbage can in the stairwell and shook my hair out. As much as I wanted to shuck the uniform with it, I knew I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk them finding it covered in blood. Eleven flights of stairs later, and I thought I was going to die. I didn’t know how I didn’t leave a trail of blood behind me.

I could make it. I could do it.

With renewed energy and somehow some speed, I burst through the emergency exit at the bottom of the stairs into the cool night air. People were shouting nearby, and I knew I was running out of time.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Dimitri

“Why are you here?”Scarlett gasped out as blood dribbled between her fingers. My eyes zeroed in on the movement, and it was like the whole world stopped. I’d been at dinner with my mother, but when I saw her name flash across my screen, I knew she needed me more.

She’d gasped out, “My penthouse.”

I thought it was a sexual gasp, but now that I was here… I rushed toward her and dropped to my knees. I pressed my hands against hers before I pulled them away. I needed to see how bad it was.

“You called.” It was that simple. I’d been waiting for her call, but I had never expected this. Right now, nothing mattered except for stopping the bleeding.

“What happened?”

I didn’t need her to tell me. I knew what happened. She’d been shot leaving someone’s home. I closed my eyes briefly before I looked up into hers. “I told you not to steal anymore.”

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