slowly fade from the bastard’s eyes, he had to finish this now. He raised the gun and aimed between Cross’s eyes. He saw the finality, the gray acceptance of death in his victim’s gaze. He pulled the trigger and then turned away, satisfied that justice had been served.
THE cab pulled to an abrupt halt outside the building where Sarah Daniels had worked for a period of six months. She hadn’t been back in a year. The mere thought of walking into Cross Enterprises made her physically ill.
She flung a twenty at the cabbie and ignored his offer to give her change. Clumsily opening the door, she bolted from the cab and entered the high-rise at a dead run.
The lobby was empty. Not even the security guard was at his post. Was she too late? What would she have even said to the man? That her brother was here to kill Stanley Cross?
She bolted toward the elevator and pounded on the up button, praying it would be here. She heaved a sigh of relief and threw herself through the doors as they slid open.
She jammed her thumb on the button for the twenty-first floor and then hit the close door button repeatedly.
Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.
She had to be on time. She wouldn’t let Marcus go through with it.
Stupid. So stupid.
She should have known. She’d seen the rage in Marcus’s eyes. He’d been way too quiet. Too collected as he’d calmly told her that he was taking her away. She hadn’t argued. She’d allowed him to make all the plans. All the decisions. She hadn’t even known where they were going, only that Marcus’s private jet was fueled and waiting for them.
Finally the elevator doors slid open, and she rushed into the reception area and turned in the direction of Allen’s office. She saw Allen’s door wide open, saw Marcus’s profile and then watched as Marcus tucked the gun back into his waistband.
Her horrified gaze tracked downward to see Allen Cross lying on the floor, blood staining his pristine white shirt.
Her hand flew to her mouth and she backed hastily away.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
She was too late. She hadn’t gotten here in time.
Allen was dead. Marcus had killed him.
Oh God.
Nausea welled in her throat. She nearly tripped on her feet as she steadily backpedaled. She had to get away. The police would be here soon. Wouldn’t they? Surely someone couldn’t just walk off the streets and kill someone in an office building.
She turned and ran back toward the elevator, praying it was still there. She knew that at least two were taken out of service on the weekends, but that left two working on this side of the building.
She jabbed at the down button with her thumb and held her breath, prepared to make a run for the stairs if she had to. The door slid open and she fell over herself getting in. She punched the button for the ground floor and turned just as the doors started to close, only to find herself staring at Marcus’s frozen expression several feet away.
“Sarah—”
The doors closed, cutting him off. The elevator descended, sending Sarah’s stomach into even more turmoil.
She simply couldn’t process what she’d just witnessed. Marcus had killed Allen Cross. She couldn’t even muster any regret. Only fear. Fear for Marcus. How could he think he could get away with something so bold?
The elevator came to a stop and she shoved at the doors, trying to make them open quicker. She pitched headlong into the lobby, stumbling to gain her footing. Just as she righted herself, a hand curled around her arm and yanked her upright.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
She gasped and stared into the eyes of evil.
Stanley Cross, Allen’s brother, gripped her arm until she cried out in pain. His eyes sparked fury, but more than that, they warned her of just what kind of man he was. She knew all too well.
A sob welled in her throat as she faced down the man who was in her nightmares for the last year. She hadn’t seen him since that night in Allen’s office when he and Allen had forever changed the course of her life.
She hated them both more than she ever imagined being able to hate another human being.
Fear paralyzed her for what seemed an interminable amount of time. Her throat closed in and the ball in her stomach knotted painfully until it was all she could do not to vomit all over Stanley’s shoes.