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I was already heading for the door when she called out. “Can’t you just call them?”
I stepped out, lengthening my stride as I headed for the back door and pushed through. “It’s not that kind of bank.”
By the time I’d backed out of the driveway, I had Riven’s last known address on my GPS screen. It was a penthouse in one of the upper-class towers in the city. I glanced at the time and pushed the Audi harder as I headed toward it.
Only, as I passed the opulent street not far from my own, my thoughts turned to Dante Ares. The man hadn't sounded right when I’d spoken to him. His tone wasn’t just cold. It was empty, distant. Fucking scary if I had to make a finer point.
I’ve got problems of my own, St. James. Your fucking mess is your own. Keep me and my family the hell out of it.
“You’re in it though, aren’t you? One way or another, you’re in it up to your fucking eyeballs.”
I tore my gaze away and focused on driving, passing streets at a blur and turned into the heart of the city. Riven lived here, Kane lived further out of the hustle…but The Priest, Thomas. There was no record of where he lived.
That alone unnerved me as I pulled into the parking lot and braked. Heads turned my way as I climbed out. But they were more interested in the dinged-up front end of the Audi than they were in me as I headed for the expansive automatic doors of the foyer.
I walked in, adjusted my jacket, and headed for the front desk. The young woman seated behind the desk lifted her head, and her wide brown eyes grew wider. My lips curled, the smile automatic. They got the outside versions of me. The surface one where I kept calm and careful.
“Hi there,” I murmured, narrowing in on her.
He cheeks flushed and her eyes twinkled. “Ah, um. Hi.”
“I have a meeting with Riven Cruz and I seem to have forgotten my phone to let him know I’m down here waiting.”
“Mr. Cruz?”
I widened my smile and nodded.
“Um…” she stuttered, rising from her seat. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure I have an appointment, or you’re not sure about Riven? He has the penthouse and I think he owns a good stake in the building, if that jogs your memory.”
She jerked panicked eyes toward the doorway, then to the phone sitting on the desk.
Call, I urged. Just so I know the piece of fucking shit is even here.
I focused my attention on the gun tucked into my waistband. If the bastard was here, then I’d force my way in. Tie him up. Force him to give me the information I wanted…but I wouldn’t take him out. Not yet. Not until I had Hale on his knees in front of me.
Then they’d all meet their fates.
The image of that filled me as the young receptionist glanced my way, then carefully reached out and picked up the phone. The automatic doors opened behind me and the heavy thud of a male’s steps followed.
“Jessica,” the asshole called. “Everything okay?”
I ground my teeth. Just fuck off.
But the insistent asshole never left. Instead, he stopped this side of the counter as the receptionist stuttered. “Mr. Grayson. This gentleman, Mr…”
“St. James.” I answered, turning my focus to the guy beside me. The one dressed in the neat, two-piece suit and who looked every bit the part of an overpaid doorman.
“He was asking about Mr. Cruz,” she added.
The smile he gave was every bit as fake as the goddamn Rolex on his wrist. “I’m afraid we don’t give out information on our residents.”
“I wasn’t asking for information. Just to call him and let him know I’m here for our appointment. I seem to have forgotten my phone.”
The asshole stared right through the lie. “I’m afraid we can’t.”
“Can’t, or won’t?” I forced the words through clenched teeth.
