The Billionaire Who Stole My Life and the Secret Brother Who Kept It
“Check Suite A first,” a man’s voice barked from the hallway.
I looked at Alexander’s still face, my heart breaking.
“I’ll come back for you,” I whispered, kissing his cold forehead.
I ran toward the back of the suite, finding a small service door marked *Exit*.
Behind me, the main door to Suite A began to rattle.
The lock clicked.
I slipped through the heavy metal door just as the latch on the front door of Suite A clicked open.
The service stairwell was cold and smelled of industrial bleach.
My sneakers made no sound on the concrete steps as I ran downward, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Behind me, a door crashed open on the landing above.
“He’s still in the bed,” a man shouted, his voice echoing down the concrete shaft. “Where is the woman?”
I didn’t wait to hear the reply.
I took the stairs three at a time, my hand gripping the cold iron railing.
I held the canvas bag tight against my side, protecting the tablet and the stolen medical charts.