I hung up, standing in front of the alley and still facing the hotel as that nightmare of a night played back in my head.

How we were having fun and everything got away from me. How I was confused and angry and couldn’t seem to stop myself, and how the rage consumed me. How I wanted to hurt her, even though I didn’t really know her, but I hated her.

How I loved Damon once, and how I knew Gabriel Torrance was wrong. I would do anything for his son. I have done anything for his son.

I killed for him, and last year he turned around and nearly killed me.

I looked up, back at the hotel, wondering if he was right. Had I wasted my time? Maybe I should’ve been following his precious little girlfriend instead?

Two things were certain, though.

He was here, in the city, and he still wanted Rika. Anticipating him hadn’t been a mistake.

I’d call Gabriel tomorrow and relinquish my claim on the hotel. I hadn’t signed a contract, so there was no deal.

I moved to turn around, the light sprinkles turning heavier as they fell on my head, but then I stopped. Looking into the alleyway across the street, I spotted Banks climbing out of an SUV alone. She looked around her, not seeing me, and raced to the same back door we’d entered just days ago.

What was she doing?

The thunder cracked overhead, splitting across the sky, and I dived across the street, racing as a car’s headlights shone through the mist.

Reaching the back of the building, I dug out my keys and looked down, realizing I’d given Banks the hotel set. But I still had the code memorized. Punching in the seven digits on the keypad, I stuffed my keys back in my pocket and opened the door, quickly slipping inside.

I didn’t tell her to do anything at the hotel today. She wasn’t here for me, I knew that much.

Taking out my phone, I turned on the flashlight and made my way out of the kitchen and through the dining room and the lobby. Stepping into the open space, I turned my head right and left, searching for her. Where did she go?

But then I heard a dull hum, a noise buried as if in the walls or under the floor. Following the sound, I turned my gaze left and spotted the numbers above one of the elevators lighting up.

As it ascended higher and higher.

They were working?

Reaching out to press the up arrow, I paused and then pulled back. What floor was she stopping on?

I watched the numbers light up—eight, then nine and ten…And then they kept going—eleven, twelve…

And it stopped. The light didn’t go any higher.

Twelfth floor.

I quickly punched the top button, jamming it several times as my blood started to boil.

You got to be fucking kidding me. The elevator did go to the twelfth floor.

I waited for it to descend again, keeping my cell phone handy in case I needed light.

How the hell did she get the elevators working?

As soon as the doors opened, I stepped inside, punched the twelve and then the button for the doors to close.

She knew he was here the whole time. She’d been seeing him, watching us fumble about and listening to our conversations. I mean, I knew she wasn’t on our side. She never made any secret where her loyalties laid? So, why did I want to throttle her more than him right now?

I clenched my goddamn jaw so hard, my teeth ached. If she liked ruthless men so much, I’d show her how ruthless I could be.

I slammed my hand into the 12 again, so angry I barely noticed that it wasn’t lighting up.

Or that the elevator wasn’t moving yet.

What the fuck? Wasn’t it just running a minute ago? Why wasn’t it working now?

I hit the button a few more times, looking around for any lights to show the elevator registered where I wanted to move, but nothing.

The fluorescent lighting was dank inside the elevator, and I looked around for any other buttons to push or anything else that looked unusual. Anything to indicate how to get where I wanted to go.

The elevator went to the twelfth floor. A twelfth floor existed. I knew that now.

I pushed the 11 just to see if it would work.

And it did. The 11 suddenly lit up, and I felt the cables shift around me and gravity weigh me down as I began to ascend. The doors opened on eleven, and I glanced up long enough to see the dark hallway in front of me before I hit the 13 and quickly closed the doors again. I rose higher once more, stopping on 13 as the doors opened, allowing me entrance to the floor.

I closed the elevator doors again. How was she getting the elevator to stop on twelve?

Maybe there was another stairwell access on one of these floors? They had to have one that reached twelve. What if there was a fire or the elevators broke?

I reached out and tried the only other thing that came to me. I pressed the 11 and the 13 together.

To my surprise, they both lit up.

But I still didn’t feel the elevator move.

Instead, a short whirring came from behind me, and I jerked around, seeing a silver panel rise up to reveal a hidden key pad in the elevator wall.

My heart skipped a beat. So, that was it. That was how she was getting to the twelfth floor.

And she knew it the last time we were here.

Walking over to the keypad, I noticed clear buttons with black numbers on them, along with a small screen that was lit up green.

I punched in the only code I knew. The one for the outside doors to get in the building.

Nothing happened.

I tried again, pressing the # symbol afterward.

Still nothing.

It was a different code. One I didn’t get.

But something Banks said once made me pause.

“…and when it was investigated there wasn’t even a possibility for the elevator to stop there. The floor was walled in.”

But that wasn’t true. She stopped on this floor.

Keeping my back to the doors of the elevator, I leaned in close to the back wall, lying my head on the steel. I ran my hand up the edge, noticing a gap where the wall met the panel.

A gap.

This wasn’t a wall. It was a door, and this elevator opened from the front and the back.

Jesus.

Suddenly the door shifted in front of me and started to open. I jerked back as the silver wall—and secret entrance—peeled back and Banks stood in front of me, her eyes snapping up when she noticed me.

I glanced past her briefly, taking in the massive, dark expanse behind her. There were no room doors with numbers, no hallway, no shitty carpeting...

It was a penthouse.

I turned my glare back on her. “You knew all along.”

She looked at me, her body still and rigid.

I stepped into the penthouse, forcing her to take a step back. “Take me to him.”

“He’s not here.”

But I advanced on her, moving forward into her space with a warning look.

“He’s not here!” she growled.

“You’re a fucking liar!”

“I suspected he might be, so I came to check it out. Again,” she added as I walked past her and took a long look around.

The rooms were dark, the living room curling around the corner and giving way to a library and parlor, with a few hallways leading off to various places, probably bedrooms. There were couches and lamps, tables, and rugs, the whole place set up like a home with a better view.

As I turned the corner around the elevator, I noticed the balcony through the two sets of French doors we’d been trying to get to the other day.

This apartment looked like it took up an entire floor. Which meant it might have several balconies wrapping around all sides of the building.

“How did you get the elevator working without the electricity on?” I asked.

She stuffed her hands in her pockets. “The elevators have a different circuit breaker.”

“And you knew that when we were here last time?”

She averted her eyes.

Obviously.

The lingering scent of cloves drifted into my nostrils, and I recognized it right away.

Damon mostly smoked Davidoffs, but once in a while he’d indulge in Djarum Blacks. The odor lingered, and I would never forget it.

“You had to know I would never give him up to you.” Banks’s voice was solemn. “I know what you and your friends are capable of.”

I whipped around, unable to keep the snarl off my face.

“What I’m capable of?” I asked her. “So, he’s the victim?”