The lock turned behind us.
Victoria’s eyes moved toward the penthouse entrance, but her hand stayed on the small black reader connected to the diamond earring.
Richard’s recorded voice was still coming from the speaker.
“Sign it, Victoria.”
The recording was faint, but unmistakable.
Then Victoria’s voice answered from the device.
“No.”
A rustle followed.
Glass clinked against something hard.
Richard again.
“By Monday, the board will believe you’re unstable whether you sign it or not.”
Victoria reached over and stopped the playback.
The penthouse door opened.
Richard Belmont walked in.
He had removed his tuxedo jacket.
His bow tie hung loose around his collar now, but his expression was composed.
He looked less like a man who had chased an injured woman through an office tower and more like a concerned fiancé arriving home late from a difficult party.
That was the frightening part.
He didn’t look angry.
He looked prepared.
His eyes went first to Victoria.
Then to me.
Then to the earring attached to the reader.
For the first time that night, Richard lost control of his face.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
“So,” he said softly.
“That’s where it went.”
Victoria straightened.
She was barefoot, bleeding lightly at the neck, with one torn shoulder of her emerald gown hanging lower than the other.
Twenty minutes earlier she had been shaking against me in a service corridor.
Now she looked like the CEO everyone at Harrington Global feared.
“You followed us.”
Richard closed the door.
“This is my home too.”
“No,” Victoria said.
“You stay here because I allow it.”
Richard glanced at me.
“You should leave.”
I didn’t move.
His expression sharpened.
“Mr.
Miller, you work for us.”
“I work for Harrington Global.”
“I run Harrington Global.”
Victoria gave a humorless laugh.
“That’s what tonight was supposed to accomplish, wasn’t it?”
Richard looked back at her.
“You’re confused.”
“No.
You needed me confused.”
He stepped farther into the room.
I could smell expensive cologne and champagne.
Victoria’s fingers rested beside the black reader.
Richard noticed.
“Whatever you think you recorded,” he said, “you were drinking.
