The note wasn’t signed, and no one knew how the box got there.
I’d caught the momentary flash of worry that crossed my mother’s face, so I’d hid the note and brushed off the dagger as something Trevor had probably left for me as a surprise. I didn’t want her to be scared for me.
But I definitely was.
Someone had been in my home, right under my mother’s nose.
In the rush to get on the road this morning, I’d slid the slender box, with the dagger, into the car and drove off not knowing why I’d brought it. I should’ve just left it at home.
The soft bell dinged, and I followed Mr. Patterson into the elevator, seeing him press twenty-one. But I narrowed my eyes, noticing that there were no floors higher than that.
“I thought there were twenty-two floors,” I inquired, standing next to him.
“There are.” He nodded assuredly. “But that floor houses only one residence, and he has his own private elevator across the lobby.”
I turned my head forward again, understanding. “I see.”
“Your floor only has two apartments,” he explained, “since the apartments are quite a bit larger. And the other apartment on your floor is currently vacant, so you’ll enjoy lots of privacy.”
The apartments were quite a bit larger on my floor? I didn’t remember anyone saying anything about that when I’d emailed the management to set up the lease.
“And here we are,” he chirped, stepping forward with a smile as the doors opened. He held out an arm, inviting me to go first.
Stepping out of the elevator, I looked left and then right, seeing a narrow, well-lit hallway with black, marble floors and walls the color of a sunset. He veered left, leading me to an apartment door, but I cast a quick look over my shoulder, seeing another massive, black door with the gold numbers 2104 on it.
That must be the empty one.
We reached the other apartment door—mine, apparently—and the manager immediately slid the key in and swung the door open, walking right inside.
I watched him saunter off into the apartment, while I remained standing in the doorway, frozen.
“Um…” Okay.
This didn’t make sense. This apartment was huge.
I slowly stepped inside, my arms hanging limply at my sides as I took in the high ceilings, spacious living room, and a full wall of windows, giving away the beautiful patio courtyard, complete with a fountain and actual grass outside. The same black marble floors carried in here from the hallway, but the apartment walls were cream-colored.
“As you can see,” Mr. Patterson began as he went to the window-wall and unlocked the glass. “You have a full gourmet kitchen with top of the line appliances, and you’ll love how the open floor plan preserves your view of the city.”
I glanced at the kitchen, the granite island shining in the sunlight spilling in through the windows. The chrome appliances were just as impressive as the ones in my own home, and the wrought iron kitchen chandelier—simple, sophisticated, and pretty—matched the one hanging above me in the living room.
He went on talking about three bedrooms, heated floors, and a rainfall shower, and I started shaking my head, overwhelmed. “Wait—”
But he cut me off. “There’s a community gym on the second floor as well as an indoor pool. Both are open twenty-four seven, and since you’re in one of the penthouses, you also enjoy a private courtyard.”
My eyebrows narrowed in confusion. I was in a penthouse? What?
“Wait,” I laughed, a little freaked out.
But he just kept going. “There are two doors to your apartment,” he told me, his tone turning serious. “The other one leads to a stairwell in case of a fire, but be sure it’s locked at all times.” He pointed to the end of the hall, and I jutted out my head to see the metal door down the dark hallway. “We are very tight on security here, but I wanted to make you aware of the alternate entrance.”
I brought my hand to my forehead, wiping away the light layer of sweat. What the hell was going on? The apartment was already completely furnished with expensive-looking sofas, tables, and electronics, and I watched him pick up a tablet and start to work the privacy glass on the wall of windows facing the city.
“Now let me show you—”
“Wait,” I blurted out, cutting him off. “I’m sorry. I think there’s been a mistake. I’m Erika Fane. I leased a one bedroom with one bath—not a penthouse. I have no idea whose apartment this is, but I’m paying rent for something much, much smaller.”
He looked confused, and then he picked up his file folder, probably checking his information.
Not that I didn’t love the penthouse, but I wasn’t forking over thousands of dollars every month for something I didn’t need.
He breathed out a laugh, studying the paperwork. “Ah, yes. I forgot.” He looked up at me. “That apartment was rented out unfortunately.”
My shoulders dropped, disappointment hitting me. “What?”
“It was a mix-up, and we’re very sorry. I was advised by the owners to honor the contract you had signed as an apology. There were two penthouses, both vacant, so we saw no reason why you shouldn’t have one of them. Your lease is still for a year, and your rent will remain the same during that time.” He held out the keys to me. “No one called you?”
I stared off, reaching out and taking them.
“No,” I answered. “And I’m still a little confused. Why would you give me twice the amount of apartment for the same price?”