“The lift is stopped between floors,” Damiano said. “We have five minutes before the automatic override kicks in.”

“Decide now, Arya.”

I looked at the rain lashing against the glass windows.

The city below was dark, glittering with cold, indifferent lights.

There was no safe place for me out there.

“Okay,” I said, my voice barely audible. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Damiano nodded once, a sharp, satisfied motion.

“Good,” he said.

He walked to his desk and pressed an intercom button.

“Leo,” he said. “Release the elevator. Let them up.”

“But sir,” a voice crackled back. “Marcus has officers with him.”

“Let them up,” Damiano repeated. “And tell the staff to prepare the drawing room.”

He cut the connection and looked at me.

“Stand beside me,” he commanded softly.

“Act as though you belong here.”

“Because as of this moment, you do.”

I walked over to him, my legs feeling like lead.

I stood at his side, my arm lightly touching his.

The fabric of his suit jacket was expensive and rough against my bare skin.

The elevator doors at the end of the hall finally slid open with a soft hiss.