Page 5 of King of Malice
CHAPTER TWO
Ava
Standing on the sidewalk,I stare up at the luxury condo in a swanky downtown neighborhood, my neck craning up the six-story building. At the top is a penthouse apartment with a large balcony that is decorated in lush plants. Does the balcony have a sprinkler system? I sigh as I imagine the luxuries money brings.
I’m happy with my choices, to save instead of spending my salary, but sometimes…
I know I’m stalling.
I should have gone straight inside, but I’m nervous to meet the man with the voice that wreaked havoc on my body all morning.
Every time I thought of the sound of his honey baritone, I got warm all over again.
Now is not the time for these kinds of feelings. Even if Cadence hadn’t just disappeared again, I’m finally comfortable living this life on my own. I’ve stopped wanting a man, stopped wishing I could be a normal girl with regular reactions to sex. I’m just going to be weirdo me.
Which is why I straighten my spine and hike my messenger bag strap further up my shoulder before I cross the street and enter the building.
Which has a concierge…
“Dimitri Ivanov, please,” I ask with a smile, staring at the uniformed man in a cap and gloves.
“Name?” he asks with a generic smile back.
“Ava Tantor.”
“He’s expecting you, Ms. Tantor.” And then the concierge steps around his counter height desk and waves for me to follow him to an elevator separate from the bank of elevators at the back of the lobby.
He inserts a key, the doors sliding open, as he sweeps his hand, inviting me into the interior. My brows are halfway up my forehead. The man with the honey baritone has a private elevator that can only be operated with a key.
I just know I’m headed up to the penthouse.
Sure enough, there is only one button in the elevator, the letter P emblazoned on it.
I push the button as the doors close, the elevator whizzing up to the top floor. I’ve never been in one that went this fast.
The doors open before I’ve even processed, and I can barely keep from gasping as the interior of the apartment appears.
I’m in a stunning entry with marble floors, beautiful artwork displayed on walls that must be at least twelve feet tall.
From a room I can’t see, the most beautiful classical piano music fills the space. The speakers in this place must be amazing.
Tentatively, I step out of the elevator, examining one of the pieces to the right. A landscape that I think might be an actual Monet.
“Hello?” I call, taking another step into the hall.
The piano music abruptly stops as I realize, it wasn’t a recording I was hearing but an actual person playing.
“Hello,” that honey baritone calls. “Please come in, Ava.”
And then footsteps approach.
In what feels like slow motion, I turn my head to the man walking toward me. Dear lord above, I’m in trouble.
He’s ridiculously tall, his shoulders so broad, he seems to fill the large entry. He has the sort of sharp, masculine good looks that are both refined and rugged, his dark hair sweeps back from his high forehead. He’s older than me, a touch of gray at his temples. But it makes him look even more handsome. Distinguished. Powerful.
Maybe it’s the confidence with which he carries himself.
He’s breathtaking and I’ve lost the ability to speak. “Hi,” I finally push out, sounding more like a schoolgirl than the professional woman I’ve become. I’ve already said hello. “Thank you.”
