Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 145942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Grayson keeps to himself, standing toward the back of the group as I remain up front, pretending that I don't want to throw myself at him and screw him in front of all these people.
What is it about a man in a suit that has me acting like a complete idiot?
The elevator dings and we wait as the doors slowly peel open and a bunch of business minded people come pouring out. It takes far too long, and by the time I step into the elevator, my nerves are completely shot.
My fists pump at my sides as I hit the button for the thirty-fourth floor, the highest business level that this elevator will allow us to go. Everybody piles in around me and Grayson’s fingers gently brush past mine as he takes his space in the very back corner.
The doors close and moments later, we’re doing the rounds, stopping at each floor and letting people off. Second floor, fifth floor, eighth floor, thirteenth. It goes on and on until I watch the little digital 19 turn to a 20 right before the elevator plunges into complete darkness, jolting to a sickening stop.
I grin wide. Gotta love Cruz Danforth.
The women around me panic, screaming as the arrogant businessman on the phone curses. “Shit, power’s out,” he mutters, trying to calm the women, though I think it’s for his own sanity rather than for their benefit. “That’s exactly what I needed.”
A woman across the elevator sighs. “Does this building have a backup generator? Does anyone know? Or are we stuck here until emergency services can free us?”
“It better have a backup generator,” Mr. Arrogant Jerk spits. “I have a meeting with my investors starting in four minutes. I don’t have time for this.”
I roll my eyes as they carry on with their bullshit, but a second later, a hand grabs me in the dark. At first, I think it’s Grayson until the hand yanks me out of the way and a strong whiff of mens’ cologne wafts around me. “Out of the way,” the dickwad says before I hear him slamming his fist down over every single button on the elevator.
The need to knock him out flies through me as I’m pushed toward the back of the elevator but the feel of Grayson’s calming fingers brushing down my arm has me coming back down. “You do it?” I murmur, my voice so low that I doubt he can even hear me.
“Sure fucking did.”
A moment later, the power comes back on and the lights flicker throughout the elevator. The gears strain and for a second, I truly fear that the whole elevator is going to drop straight to the ground and kill us all, but it pulls through and relief pulses through my veins as the elevator dings and the doors open wide on the twentieth floor.
Everybody scrambles out of the elevator, not risking staying in there a moment longer, and as the doors close, I’m left with just Grayson and the privacy to do what we need to do.
With everybody off the elevator and the system completely reset, the elevator takes off, shooting up through the floors and bringing us closer and closer to level thirty-four. I can’t help but glance up to see the small USB drive that Grayson shoved into the back of the security camera when the power went out, and a grin settles over my lips knowing that if Paris really is here and has eyes on this elevator, all she would see is an endless loop of people getting on and off.
The Elevator reaches the top floor and as the doors slowly slide back, I can’t help but wave my hand toward the exit. “Ladies first.”
Grayson rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath as he steps out in front of me. “You’re such a shit.”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
We walk side by side through the long corridor, keeping our heads down to avoid the array of cameras scattered throughout the building. People pass us, deep in conversation, completely unaware of the havoc we’re about to bring down over their fancy as fuck building.
A big black door with gold letters reading ‘penthouse’ passes on our right and my gaze shifts over it, taking in the complicated tech that keeps it locked. It’s not the main entrance of the penthouse. There’s a private elevator that leads straight to the front door, but getting in through that way proved far too complicated. So this is our best bet.
We continue past the door, and a moment later, King rounds the corner up ahead, strolling through the long hall as if he were catering to the many businesses on this floor. He stops by a private conference room and swipes a key card, shouldering his way through and pulling his cart along with him.