Flavia returned to the corporate apartment just as the sun was setting behind the Hudson. Her body ached with fatigue. The audit had revealed a massive embezzlement scheme at BioGenix, and she had spent the last four hours tracing wire transfers.
The elevator doors opened directly into the foyer.
The front door was ajar.
Flavia stopped. Her hand went to her keys, threading them through her fingers like brass knuckles. This building had biometric security.
She pushed the door open with her foot.
Inside, she heard the click of heels on the hardwood.
Sloane Kensington walked out of the kitchen. She was holding a glass of Eliseo's rare scotch. She was wearing nothing but a white dress shirt.
Eliseo's shirt.
Flavia recognized Sloane instantly. The socialite. The childhood friend. The woman who had been trying to get into Eliseo's bed for years.
"Oh," Sloane said, feigning surprise. "The hired help returns."
Flavia set her bag down. She didn't scream. She didn't attack.
"This is a private residence, Sloane. How did you get in?"
Sloane took a sip of the scotch, leaving a red lipstick stain on the rim. She dangled a key card from her pinky finger.
"Eliseo gave it to me ages ago. For emergencies."
It was a lie. Flavia knew this apartment was leased under her firm's name. Sloane must have charmed or bribed the new doorman.
Sloane plucked at the hem of the shirt. "I spilled wine on my dress. I had to borrow something. You don't mind, do you?"
It was a territorial pissing contest. Sloane was marking her ground.
Flavia looked at her. She looked at the shirt.
"I don't mind," Flavia said. "That's the shirt Eliseo was planning to throw out anyway. It had a stain."
Sloane's smile faltered. Her knuckles turned white around the glass.
She set the drink down and turned toward the hallway. "I'll just go check if Eliseo is back."
Flavia stepped into her path. She didn't touch her, but her presence was a wall.
"That is my bedroom."
Sloane leaned in. The smell hit Flavia-vanilla and musk. The exact same scent that had been on Eliseo's jacket this morning.
"It's only a matter of time," Sloane whispered. "Before the room is mine. Just like him."
Flavia felt bile rise in her throat. Not from jealousy, but from disgust. It was unsanitary.
She stepped aside.
"Be my guest."
Sloane blinked, confused by the surrender. She smirked and sashayed down the hall.
Flavia picked up her keys and her bag. She walked out of the apartment and pulled the door shut, locking it from the outside.
She stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. She pulled out her phone and dialed the building's security desk.
"This is Flavia Lancaster in Penthouse A. There is an intruder in my apartment. Unauthorized entry. Please remove her immediately."
She hung up.
Flavia walked out of the building and hailed a cab. She gave the driver the address of a hotel in Midtown.
She checked her watch. Eliseo would be home in twenty minutes.
