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He said nothing, dragging me toward his study by my curls. Did I mention how big his apartment was? Like a whole floor monstrosity. It was one of the reasons I’d hung around. The shower was like a car wash with jets and nozzles and— “Ow. Ow. Ow.”
Good Lord, this man had an iron grip. I bent forward in an attempt to ease the tension on my scalp. That did no good. It was a wonder a clump of my hair wasn’t in his fist.
The hardwood floors turned to plush navy carpet I recognized. I focused on the pattern in hopes I could forget the pain radiating from my scalp.
We stopped.
He yanked.
I was face to face with the open safe door. Stuffed inside were stacks of cash, papers, jewels, and . . . a gun.
“Tell me where it is, and all will be forgiven.” Strangely enough, he sounded sincere. But his hold on my hair tightened, and I was no fool.
“Have you checked through everything?” I reached up to look under some of the documents in the safe, but he batted my hand away.
“Twice,” he hissed.
I twisted like some sort of contortionist so I could make eye contact. “I saw Esmerelda in here earlier.” I lifted a finger. “Come to think of it, the safe was open.”
His jaw clenched. That crimson shade turned up another degree.
“She has been with me for twelve years. Nothing has ever been stolen,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Maybe she’s patient.”
Whap.
Stars formed behind my eyes as pain exploded in my head. Automatically, I lifted my hand to my face. Did he just . . .punchme?
“I am not.”
He reared back, and I ducked, narrowly missing his swing. I’d broken free at the expense of some of my hair. The sting on my scalp temporarily made me forget about the pain around my eye.
I shed my Louboutin’s from my feet and chucked them at the bastard. My dress was too tight around the legs for me to jet, so I lifted it above my hips and sprinted for the front door.
Serge, Tamas’s bodyguard, froze in position in the living room at the sight of the white lace lingerie I wore, which left nothing to the imagination. Or maybe it was my ass hanging out. I didn’t stop to find out.
I flung open the front door and made for the stairwell. Taking the steps two at a time, I went up a few floors.
“Find her,” Tamas yelled as heavy boot-steps thundered.
Farther and farther away they went. Dumbasses. They assumed I went down.
After a minute to catch my breath, I realized my dress was still up around my waist. I straightened it, exited on a higher floor, and called the service elevator.
Without a trace, I sauntered out the back of the building like I still had on a two-thousand-dollar pair of shoes.
I had two rules:
Never get caught.
Never leave on their terms.
I had just broken both.
Chapter Three
Drew
