The elevator doors slide open before I have fully caught my breath. I step into the penthouse with the urgency of someone who has been running for miles rather than minutes. The adrenaline still pulses through me, sharp and electric, tightening every muscle in my body.
“Elena,” I call, already scanning the room.
She looks up from across the living area. The moment her eyes land on me, her entire posture breaks. Her shoulders drop, her breath releases in a shaky rush, and her expression melts into something raw with relief.
She stands so quickly the blanket around her legs falls to the floor. The book she had been pretending to read slips from her hands and hits the couch cushions without sound. Then she is moving toward me, faster than I expect, feet light against the polished floor.
I
