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For a split second, I consider running. If my father sent someonehere…
But then, she already knows who I am.
“That’s me.”
“Mr. Chambers left instructions in case you felt the need to visit. Right this way, please.”
There’s a private elevator to the penthouse, just like Charlotte and Mason’s building.
I storm out into the hall, ready for a scene. An attack. I don’t know what.
Instead, I come face-to-face with Jacob Chambers, who’s leaning against the frame of the big double doors at the entrance to his apartment.This could have been Gabriel’s apartment,says a small voice in the back of my mind. It’s the same one I heard after I visited that lawyer who screwed me over.Everything could have been different, if it wasn’t for you.
It’s not Gabriel’s apartment, because he loves me, which brings on an entirely separate grief that takes me by surprise. I haven’t lost him yet. I haven’t decided what, exactly, I’m going to do about my father yet.
That’s not even the first priority right now.
“Where is my sister?”
The corner of Jacob’s mouth turns him. He’s sandy blond and handsome, and his eyes actually twinkle with his amusement. “Good morning, Elise.”
I tried. I really tried to convince myself to trust Gabriel on this one, but Jacob stayed rich. All this time, he’s been working for his father. There are too manywhat-ifsto feel good about this.
“Good morning.” It’s an effort not to grit my teeth. “Show me where you’re keeping my sister.”
“Ah.” He straightens up, extending an arm to usher me into his penthouse. I go in, ignoring the peaceful hush of the space and the clean scent of the air and the way it feels warm and calm, even in the entryway. “As you suspected, I have her chained up in the basement, so I can torture her with my historically accurate rack and thumb screws.”
“You’re not funny.”
“The joke is that I don’thavea basement. This is a penthouse.” Jacob winks at me.
“I don’t care if it’s a palace. I’m taking her with me.”
“About that…” Jacob’s eyebrows rise, an elegant reluctance on his face.
My heart races. He’s so…at ease. He would be, in his own home, but there’s nothingoffin here. Nothing wrong. It’s tasteful luxury, from the Monet in the alcove just before the living room to every piece of furniture I can see. If my father is any indication, rich men are dangerous. Especially rich men in the consortium.
This apartment calls for nice manners. I ignore that call and glare at him. “About that?”
“You can’t. For non-nefarious reasons.”
“Jacob, if you’ve hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
He arches a single eyebrow. “Have you even asked Catherine if shewantsto leave with you?”
“Catherine,” I yell into the penthouse.
Jacob sighs. “I doubt she’ll be able to hear you, despite your impressive set of lungs. Let me see you upstairs.”
He walks me up to the second floor of the penthouse and into the main bedroom, which looks out on a balcony with an infinity pool and a fireplace. Then Jacob raps gently on a closed door with his knuckles.
“Catherine? Your sister’s here to see you.”
Her answer is just soft enough that I can’t hear the words, but Jacob does. He answers the door with a little flourish to reveal the largest, nicest bathroom I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen some nice bathrooms.
Silky, humid air moves against me on the way in, Jacob following at a polite distance.
Catherine’s in a huge, gilt-edged spa tub underneath actual mountains of bubbles. Her auburn hair is piled on top of her head in a bun that looks purposefully disheveled, unlike mine, which just looks like I air-dried my hair. A mimosa sparkles in one hand, and she uses the other to choose a cut strawberry from a plate balanced on a polished wood tray made for the tub. Soft music plays. I think it’s Lana Del Rey.
