Page 11 of Stone

No one should be here. She headed past the long dining room table, which was devoid of people, but the place settings looked great. More windows offered a fabulous view of the glistening waters of the Hudson.

There was a second living area ahead. It was a flexible space that she’d asked the stagers to put a piano in. The voices got louder.

Maybe someone was here doing maintenance?

“You betrayed me, Alexei.” The accented voice rang through the penthouse.

“No. No.” The second man’s voice was panicked. “It’s all lies. I’d never betray you, Zolotov.”

Nola’s step faltered, her muscles tensing. Who the hell was in the penthouse?

She straightened her spine. They weren’t supposed to be here. She was going to kick their asses out. If they’d wrecked her staging or made a mess, there would be hell to pay. She strode to the doorway.

Her brain took a second to take in the four men in dark suits. There was a fifth man on his knees on the floor.

The older of the four men was holding a handgun aimed toward the fifth man’s head.

Bang. Bang.

Nola jolted. Shock flooded her.

Time moved in slow-motion as the man on his knees toppled sideways. There was now a hole in the center of his forehead, and…no, no, no. The blood.

Oh, God.

She must have made a sound, because suddenly, all four men turned to look at her.

Nola ran.

Shouts echoed behind her. She sprinted through the kitchen and straight for the front door, kicking her heels off as she ran.

“Stop her!” a voice boomed.

Nola saw the front door. She tore it open, raced out the penthouse, and sprinted down the corridor.

More shouts, and, when she glanced back, two of the men were running after her.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Her heart was hammering behind her ribcage. She bolted down the hallway. There was no time to wait for the elevator. She heard the penthouse door slam, but she didn’t look back.

She reached the door to the stairs and slammed through it. In the stairwell, she hiked her tight skirt up.

She was tempted to head down. To run as fast as she could and get out of the building. Far, far away from those men.

But something sparked in her brain. She swiveled and ran up the stairs instead. They’d expect her to go down.

She went up one level and pressed her back to the wall. She put a hand over her mouth to mask her heavy breathing.

She heard the door below open. Men speaking in what sounded like Russian.

They thundered down the stairs.

Nola blew out a shaky breath. She quickly slipped out through the door onto the next floor and raced to the elevator. She hit the button.

Should she go straight to the lobby? She chewed on her lip. They could have someone waiting. She’d head to level two, then find somewhere to hide and call for help.

God. She’d just seen a man get killed. A bullet to the head. She closed her eyes to escape the horrible memories, but all she saw in her mind was the blood. She pressed her palms to her cheeks and dragged in a deep breath.

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