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My assistant went home hours ago. Most of the building is gone. Apart from security and the cleaning crew, I’m the only one still working.
I take a few more tentative steps before I finally recognize the chemical odor: kerosene.
Just then, the fire alarms go off. I cover my ears against the blaring siren and continue down the hall. With every step, heat envelops me.
The fire is close.
I rush through the thick smog towards the elevators, but they’re dark and lifeless, caught between floors in a way that strikes me as unsettling.
My heartbeat picks up speed.
I whip around and run towards the main lobby on this floor. Luka is on security duty on this floor tonight. He ought to be stationed just around the corner.
“Luka!” I call, but he doesn’t answer.
Then I round the corner and see why. Luka is sprawled across the floor, face down. When I turn him over, I see his throat has been slit from ear to ear. A permanent bloody grin etched into his neck.
“Fuck.” Twenty years of loyal service and this is how it ends for him.
I press a hand to his chest, saying a silent goodbye. Then I rip off the bottom of his shirt and turn it into a bandana for my face. I tie the shredded ends at the back of my head and stay low as I move towards the fire escape.
But the moment I pull the door open, plumes of smoke and heat billow into my face and force me to retreat.
I run back to my office and grab my phone. It’s buzzing on my desk, and when I pick it up, Konstantin’s voice crackles through.
“Jesus Christ. Don’t tell me you’re still in there.”
“Sorry to disappoint.” I cough. “Where are you?”
“Standing outside. The fire department just arrived. The fire is—shit, brother, it looks really bad from out here. Where are you?”
I can hear people talking and officers yelling commands. I ignore his question. I have another one that matters more.
“Where’s Paige?”
“She’s at the mansion. She’s safe,” Konstantin assures me.
“Make sure she doesn’t know a thing.”
It’s getting hotter and hotter with each passing second. I cough into my elbow and drop to the floor, trying to escape the foul smoke. “How did the motherfucker even manage this?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Konstantin admits. His voice is drenched with panic. “It’s like he’s got a fucking ghost on his side.”
That strikes a nerve. A puzzle piece clicking into place.
Konstantin might be onto something.
“The fire chief just got here,” he tells me. “They estimate that the fire should be out in an hour.”
Neither one of us says anything for a second. We don’t need to. We both know I’ll be burned to a crisp long before then.
“Brother—”
“Listen to me,” I interrupt. “You know what I’d want. My will is in the safe in the cellar. Half the combination is with Niki, and the other half is with my mother.”
“You’re going to—”
“If I don’t make it out, finish that motherfucker,” I growl furiously. Glass panes shatter just outside my office. The heat is claiming its victims, one by one.
