PART 2
The security guards moved so quickly that the heavy glass doors slammed shut before the echo of Nathaniel Graves’s command had faded from the marble lobby.
Metal locks clicked into place.
Employees froze beside the elevators. Visitors turned toward one another in confusion. The receptionist who had threatened to call security only moments earlier stood behind her desk with both hands pressed flat against the polished surface, her face suddenly pale.
And I remained in the middle of it all, clutching Nathaniel Graves’s wallet against my chest.
For one terrifying second, I was certain I had made the biggest mistake of my life.
“I didn’t take anything,” I whispered.
Nathaniel’s eyes snapped away from the eviction notice sticking out of my backpack and returned to my face.
His expression changed instantly.
The fear was still there, but it was no longer directed at me.
“I know,” he said quietly.
He stepped closer and lowered himself until we were almost eye level. Up close, he looked older than he did on television. There were deep lines beside his mouth, and exhaustion shadowed his silver-gray eyes.
“What is your name?”
“Ruby Hart.”
The moment I said it, his breath caught.
It was barely noticeable, but I saw it.
His gaze moved over my face as if searching for something hidden beneath my skin.
“Ruby,” he repeated.
“Yes, sir.”
He looked at the eviction notice again.
“Who is Elena Hart?”
“My mom.”
Nathaniel closed his eyes.
The entire lobby seemed to disappear around him.
When he opened them again, his voice was colder.
“Bring the girl upstairs.”
