“Bitch,” Petrov hissed.

I stumbled to my feet.

He gripped the knife and yanked it from his body.

I took off, racing toward the hallway that led deeper into the apartment and flinging the door shut behind me. The place was as big as Ronan’s, with rooms everywhere, and the corridor never seemed to end. I raced into a storeroom, spying a window, but when I looked outside, there was no balcony, and we were a good twenty stories up. I wouldn’t survive the jump.

I spun around and raced deeper into the apartment.

At the end of the corridor, two rooms split off. One was a bedroom. The other an office.

I hurried into the bedroom and looked frantically for a place to hide or something I could use as a weapon. I wouldn’t fit under the bed, and there was a closet, but that was the first place he’d look.

I started to turn, thinking I’d try the office instead, but a bench beneath the window caught my eye. It was the sort of reading nook that came built into a room.

The type I’d had growing up.

A kernel of hope grew inside me. I ran to it, grabbed the cushion, and lifted. Sure enough, the bench was hollow. I climbed into the space within, drawing my knees to my chest so I fit, and softly closed it.

Darkness engulfed me.

I shut my eyes and fought to control my breathing. If I panted too heavily, he’d be able to follow the sound straight to my hiding place. It took a few moments, but I managed to slow my inhales and exhales into a quiet, regular rhythm.

I listened for the sound of men coming after me, but my blood pounded so loudly in my ears that it was impossible to hear anything else.

All I knew was that I was stuck, and unless someone noticed I was gone and somehow managed to track me down, I’d have to try to fight my way out.

Chapter Thirty-One

Ronan

The apartment building wasn’t much different from my own. Doormen questioned our identities as we entered, and as soon as we got through them, I headed straight to the front desk and slammed my palms down on it. The woman seated behind leaped off her chair, her eyes widening as she spotted Kade hulking beside me clad in full tactical gear.

“Tell me where to find Adrian Petrov,” I said.

“I-I can’t do that,” she stammered. “Privacy law—”

“I don’t care.” I cut her off. “Get your manager. Now.”

She took a lingering look at Kade, then went to the door behind the desk and knocked. “Sir, someone is asking for you.”

A small, bespectacled man stepped out of the office. His upper lip curled at the sight of us. “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

The way he said gentlemen left no doubt he thought that was the last thing we were.

“We need Adrian Petrov’s apartment number, right the fuck now,” Kade barked, and the little man flinched, his hand fluttering to his chest.