The door of the penthouse guest room shut with a dull, solid thud, and the biometric deadbolts clicked into place. Two guards were positioned just outside the door. Alex let his back slide down the cold drywall until he was sitting on the floor. His chest heaved as he wiped a smear of dark blood from his split lip with the back of his hand.
The room had no balcony, just the full glass window through which the city lights flickering illuminated the room.
In the corner, Victoria sat rigidly on a single armchair facing the window directly. Her eyes were wide with a wild, unhinged panic as she stared through the window. Her fingers clawed anxiously through her hair wondering where her perfect life had taken a drastic U-turn for the worse.
They had no idea where Miller was. They had separated him from them the moment they arrived at the penthouse. Wherever he was, Alex was sure it wasn't good. He hoped he hadn't been killed.
