Impossible to forget with its majestic city views.
“Wow. I thought they would’ve sold this one right away.”
“Still hasn’t gone on the market,” Holden explains as he pulls into the private parking lot. “In the meantime, it’s been used as a makeshift rental when it’s not accommodating Ethan’s out-of-state clients, an Airbnb. Better than a hotel for our purposes, security-wise.”
“Whoa,” I breathe as we pull into the underground parking lot.
It’s certainly sleeker than I remember. There are cameras everywhere, and everything looks squeaky clean.
Holden backs into a reserved space in one smooth motion and climbs out.
“I’ve got the bags,” he says, but I reach into the trunk for mine the instant it’s open.
I packed my bag so I know I can roll it in an elevator.
Besides, he has that jeweled bomb in the briefcase to look after.
“Relax,” I say. “You’re here for security, not to manhandle all my stuff.”
He scowls but pushes my bag in front of me.
Soon, we’ll be off to see Jasper Fairfax. That dull ache in the pit of my stomach deepens.
The long elevator ride up to the condo takes forever.
I try not to notice Holden’s reflection—or mine—in the mirrored gold walls of the elevator. When we finally reach the private floor and the main door opens, I inhale the smell of fresh renovation and old money in the city that never sleeps.
Seriously. You could’ve measured PopPop’s wealth just by the brutally overpriced square footage he owned behind glass.
A second later, I step into a huge, open plan living and dining area tucked behind ginormous windows looking out over the labyrinth of streets. A brick wall hung with what could be a few more expensive paintings. More auctions to come for a collection so massive.
The kitchen could host a gala all by itself.
Actually, you could probably host the whole thing in the living room. I could dance ballet here. Not that I’ve done ballet for years.
“Somuch space,” I say, prancing into the room and doing a spin. “That view is peak. Do you have any idea how much this place costs?”
“At least thirty lifetimes worth for me.” Holden grunts.
I giggle.
And I realize this is a sign that I’m an adult now. My first question is about multimillion-dollar real estate.
Runs in the Blackthorn blood, I guess.
I sweep through the gorgeous penthouse to my bedroom, the guest room I’d take on the rare visits here. It’s a touch smaller than the other two suites, but it has that cozy familiarity I need.
Only—
“Oh no. Holy crap.” I go numb. My eyes feel like glass.
Holden charges in behind me and stops dead in his tracks.
“Holy fuck,” he echoes.
The old room looks the same. Nice oak desk against the wall, exorbitantly expensive painting over the bed, blinds drawn on a window with a view people would literally kill for.
Nothing out of place except the bed. It’s missing a mattress.
