The Billionaire's Bitch

Twenty-Nine

I woke up in the middle of the night with a cold feeling of dread gripping my heart.

Something was wrong.

I lept out of bed, heart racing, and crept across the room to the door. I didn't turn on the lamp.

My ears were straining to listen in the silence, which was thick and oppressive.

Out in the country, the sounds of crickets or birds or other bugs was a comforting, constant drone, and when that drone stopped, the silence was deafening. The silence meant that a larger predator was moving through the area.

In this case, there were no bugs, but something had changed in the environment nonetheless. Something had broken up the peaceful drone of the night; a predator had disturbed the very air when they had entered my environment.

I cracked the door and peeped out. I didn't see anything in my living room, but then I realized what had woken me; the sound of the elevator dinging as someone arrived in the foyer.

I heard something else; men's voices, murmuring softly just outside my front door.

I gulped, and rushed back to my bedside to grab my phone. My hands were shaking as I dialed 911.

But then I stopped.

Maybe Adrian was just having guests.

I looked at the digital clock by the bed. It was 3am.

At this hour? Adrian was in bed right now, asleep, just as I had been. Wasn't he?

Deciding some recon was necessary, I tiptoed out into my living area to consult my fancy hall monitor. The screen was fuzzy because it was dark and I had to peer at it closely to make out the table in the center of the foyer.

I swallowed a ball of fear when I saw the dark figures of two men retreating down the hallway towards Adrian's apartment.

Those were not guests.

My heart exploded with panic.

These men were here to kill him, I was sure of it, deep down in my bones.

So what should I do?! Call the cops?

That was my first instinct, because I was just me; a normal person. But my boss was a strange and complicated man and he had told me he hated cops. Hate was a strong word, especially for Adrian. So would he really want me to call the cops to have them come into his home?

I bit my lip. What would he want me to do?

Heart hammering so loudly it felt like a jackhammer in my throat, I stood on tiptoes and continued to stain to look at the small screen by my door.

The two men opened the door to Adrian's apartment and left it open behind them as they entered. I watched them both lumber off to the left.

If they had gone right, all would've been lost, but they had chosen the wrong direction.

They had gone towards his office, not his bedroom.

The master chamber was in the right wing; I knew because I'd seen it through an open door on the way to the dining area.

I had a split second to make a decision and I made it surprisingly without much effort.

Somehow, somewhere inside me, I knew just what to do.

So I foolishly opened my apartment door and fled down the hallway, towards the intruders.

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