Chapter 1 - The Wrong Number
Penny shoved the hard drive into her yellow dress pocket and whispered, “Please don’t come in here.”
The silver-haired man reading her message across the city set down a black phone beside a folder stamped VALERIUS IMPORTS.
One number was handwritten across the folder.
It was the same number Penny had photographed from Bradley’s spreadsheet.
The wrong number had not been wrong at all.
“Pen?”
Bradley’s voice traveled down the hallway.
Penny Gallagher stood perfectly still.
Her heart beat so hard she could feel it beneath the neckline of her dress.
The laptop was inside the duffel bag at her feet. The portable hard drive pressed against her thigh through the fabric of her pocket. Her phone was in her right hand.
On its screen were the last three messages from the stranger.
DO NOT CONFRONT HIM.
LOCK THE DOOR IF YOU CAN.
WHAT IS HIS NAME?
Penny had not answered the last question.
Now she wished she had.
“Pen?”
Bradley sounded closer.
She glanced around his office.
There was one door.
No window large enough to climb through.
No second exit.
The office occupied the corner of Bradley’s luxury apartment, twenty-three floors above Manhattan. Behind the desk, glass stretched from floor to ceiling, turning the city into a wall of glittering lights.
Two years ago, Penny had thought the view was romantic.
Tonight it looked like a drop.
Her phone vibrated.
Unknown Number:
Are you still there?
Penny typed with both thumbs.
He came home.
The reply appeared almost instantly.
Lock the door.
She crossed the room and turned the lock.
A second later, Bradley tried the handle.
Penny jumped.
“Why is my office locked?”
She said nothing.
“Penny.”
There it was.
The voice he used when they were alone.
Not the smiling Bradley who introduced her at company dinners.
Not the charming Bradley who kissed her forehead when people were watching.
This Bradley spoke softly.
That was always worse.
“Open the door.”
“I’m packing.”
Silence.
Then a little laugh.
“Packing?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Penny looked at the duffel.
Because you ordered my dinner like I was a child.
Because you laughed when your coworkers laughed at me.
Because I have spent two years learning how little space I am allowed to occupy around you.
Because somewhere along the way I started mistaking humiliation for love.
But those reasons suddenly felt small compared with the spreadsheet.
“Because I’m leaving.”
Bradley tried the handle again.
“Open the door and we’ll talk.”
“No.”
Another silence.
Penny had known Bradley Mercer for almost three years.
She knew what silence meant.
Calculation.
“What did you take?”
Her stomach tightened.
“Nothing.”
“Penny.”
He knew.
She looked toward the desk.
The monitor was dark because she had closed the spreadsheet.
Had she moved something?
Left a drawer open?
Had Bradley received an alert when she accessed the files?
Her phone vibrated.
Unknown Number:
What is his name?
She finally typed:
Bradley Mercer.
For several seconds there was no response.
Then the typing indicator appeared.
Stopped.
Appeared again.
Finally:
Listen carefully.
Do not give him the laptop.
Penny frowned.
How did you—
A hard impact shook the office door.
She gasped.
“Bradley!”
“Open it.”
“No.”
“You have ten seconds.”
Her fingers trembled.
She typed:
He’s trying to get in.
This time the stranger called.
Penny stared at the incoming number.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice came through.
Low.
Controlled.
“Penny?”
She had not told him her first name separately.
It had been in her breakup message.
“Yes.”
“Is the door locked?”
“Yes.”
“Keep it locked.”
Bradley hit the door again.
The stranger heard it.
“How long can it hold?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is there another exit?”
“No.”
“Fire escape?”
“Twenty-third floor.”
The man was silent for half a second.
“Stay away from the door.”
Something about his tone steadied her.
Not because he sounded comforting.
He didn’t.
He sounded like a man accustomed to being obeyed when seconds mattered.
“Who are you?” Penny whispered.
“My name is Roman.”
“Roman what?”
A pause.
“Valerius.”
Penny stopped breathing.
Outside the door, Bradley stopped hitting it.
For one strange second the apartment became completely silent.
Penny pressed the phone closer to her ear.
“What did you say?”
“Roman Valerius.”
Her eyes moved toward the duffel.
Toward the laptop containing the spreadsheet.
VALERIUS IMPORTS.
“You own that company.”
“Yes.”
She nearly dropped the phone.
“Oh my God.”
“Penny, listen to me.”
“You’re involved with Bradley.”
“No.”
“Your company is all over his accounts.”
“I know.”
“You know?”
“I know now.”
Bradley spoke through the door.
“Who are you talking to?”
Penny froze.
Roman continued as though he had not heard him.
“The legitimate Valerius companies have been losing money through shell vendors for eleven months. Someone has been using our corporate structure to hide transfers.”
Penny stared at the bag.
“And Bradley?”
“I’ve been trying to find the person inside the operation.”
Bradley struck the door again.
The wood around the lock cracked.
Penny stumbled backward.
Roman’s voice sharpened.
“Move away from the door.”
“I am.”
“Go behind the desk.”
She obeyed.
“Roman, how did I get your private number?”
Silence.
That question mattered.
She could hear it in the way his breathing changed.
“Roman?”
“Bradley gave you the number?”
“Yes. He wrote it on a business card.”
Another pause.
“He didn’t give you his number.”
Penny’s mouth went dry.
“What?”
“He gave you mine.”
The door shook.
Penny crouched behind the desk.
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No. I expect you to stay alive long enough for us to figure it out.”
Alive.
The word changed everything.
Until that moment, Penny had been frightened.
Now she was cold.
“Roman.”
“Yes?”
“What exactly is Bradley involved in?”
A tremendous crack interrupted them.
Part of the doorframe splintered.
Penny covered her mouth.
Bradley stepped back outside.
Preparing to hit it again.
Roman said something away from the phone.
A second male voice answered him.
Then Roman returned.
“Penny, I need you to trust me for approximately three minutes.”
“I don’t know you.”
“That makes two of us.”
Despite everything, a breath that was almost a laugh escaped her.
Roman continued.
“My men are entering the building.”
“Your men?”
“Security.”
“What kind of businessman has security that can enter somebody else’s building?”
“The kind Bradley has been stealing from.”
That was not an answer.
Penny knew it.
Roman knew she knew it.
But the door shook again.
The lock tore halfway out.
“Two minutes,” Roman said.
Bradley’s voice came through the cracked frame.
“Penny, you’re making this much worse.”
Something inside her changed.
Maybe it was the calm voice in her ear.
Maybe it was the laptop at her feet.
Maybe it was the memory of Bradley ordering tuna for her while his coworkers laughed.
For two years she had responded to his anger by becoming smaller.
Not tonight.
She stood.
“Bradley?”
The hallway went quiet.
“What?”
“I ordered the ribeye.”
Silence.
Penny’s hand tightened around the phone.
“And I should have ordered it every damn time.”
Bradley slammed into the door.
The lock broke.
The door flew inward.
Penny stumbled backward.
Bradley entered.
His tie was gone. His jacket hung open. The charming smile had vanished.
His gaze immediately found the duffel.
Then the empty space on his desk where the laptop had been.
“What did you see?”
Penny said nothing.
He stepped toward her.
“What did you see?”
Roman’s voice came through the phone.
“Put me on speaker.”
Penny hesitated.
Bradley moved closer.
“Give me the bag.”
She pressed the speaker button.
Roman’s voice filled the office.
“Bradley.”
Bradley stopped.
Every trace of color disappeared from his face.
Penny looked between the phone and him.
Bradley whispered one word.
“Valerius.”
Penny’s stomach dropped.
Roman spoke calmly.
“Step away from her.”
Bradley stared at the phone.
Then something astonishing happened.
The man who had spent two years making Penny feel small suddenly looked terrified.
“Roman, this isn’t what you think.”
“I didn’t tell you what I think.”
“I can explain.”
“Then step away from Penny.”
Bradley’s eyes moved to her.
Hatred flashed there.
Pure and immediate.
“You contacted him?”
“I sent a text to the number you gave me.”
Confusion crossed his face.
Then realization.
He actually laughed.
Once.
Sharp.
Disbelieving.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
Penny understood.
Bradley had accidentally created his own disaster.
He had given her Roman’s number for some reason she still did not understand.
And Penny had mistaken one digit while copying what she thought was Bradley’s new private number.
Bradley stepped toward her.
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
He lunged.
Penny moved backward.
Then the apartment’s front door crashed open.
Heavy footsteps entered.
Bradley froze.
Two men in black suits appeared in the office doorway.
Both were enormous.
Neither raised his voice.
Neither needed to.
“Mr. Mercer,” one said. “Step away from Ms. Gallagher.”
Bradley looked at Penny.
Then at the men.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
The first man glanced at Penny.
“Ms. Gallagher, bring your belongings.”
She grabbed the duffel.
Bradley suddenly reached for it.
The second guard moved.
Fast.
He caught Bradley’s wrist before Bradley touched Penny.
Bradley winced.
“Take your hand off me.”
The guard did not move.
Penny walked toward the doorway.
Bradley called after her.
“Penny.”
She stopped.
“Whatever you think you found, you don’t understand it.”
She turned.
For once, he looked smaller than she felt.
“Then I guess you should have dated an auditor who wasn’t good at her job.”
She walked out.
The guards followed.
Thirty seconds later, Penny entered the elevator.
Only then did she realize Roman was still on the phone.
“You there?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Where am I going?”
“To somewhere Bradley can’t reach you.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It probably does.”
“And then?”
“Then you show me what you found.”
Penny watched the elevator numbers descend.
Her reflection stared back from the polished metal doors.
Yellow dress.
Messy curls.
Tear-streaked cheeks.
For the first time in years, she did not look away from herself.
Her phone vibrated against her palm.
Not Roman.
A new text.
Bradley.
She opened it.
There was no apology.
No threat.
Just a photograph.
Penny stared at it.
It showed her standing outside the steakhouse earlier that evening.
Taken from across the street.
Underneath were four words.
HE WAS WATCHING YOU TOO.
Then the elevator stopped between floors.
May you like
The lights went out.
And someone outside began forcing the doors open.
