The cobblestone streets at Meatpacking District were slick with a fine mist from the Hudson River. Emily steered the car into a narrow alleyway. Every shadow that moved against the brick warehouses looked like a villain; every distant siren sounded like a death knell.
She found the industrial elevator at the back of a converted printing house. When the iron gates opened, she stepped into the loft; a huge space of exposed timber and cold brick. It was nothing like the Torredo Global high-rise building and estate yet it was Alex's sanctuary.
Emily leaned against the door, the oversized hoodie pulled tight around her as if it could keep the world out. The adrenaline that had carried her began to drain away, leaving behind a raw terror. She was alone. Truly alone.
She checked the heavy deadbolts twice, before collapsing onto a low leather sofa. She sat there in the dark, her body shaking with a chill that no amount of clothing could stop.
***
