“He’s not going to stop.”

“Just stay at the office,” Jerome said.

“Keep your head down.

He has no leverage over you.”

I hung up the phone and took a deep breath.

The office phone on my desk rang a moment later.

The caller ID showed it was the reception desk downstairs.

I picked it up.

“Avery?” Brenda’s voice was tense and quiet.

“Yes, Brenda?”

“Your husband is downstairs in the lobby,” she whispered.

“He is demanding to come up to the fourth floor.”

My chest tightened.

“Don’t let him up, Brenda,” I said.

“He looks very disheveled, Avery,” she said.

“He is yelling at the security guard right now.”

I looked toward Marcus’s office.

His glass door was open, and he was watching me from his desk.

“Brenda, tell security to—”

Before I could finish the sentence, the heavy elevator doors at the end of our hallway chimed.

The doors slid open.

Scott stepped out of the elevator.

His tie was loosened, and the top button of his dress shirt was undone.

A dark circle of sweat stained his collar.