“My access isn’t working.”
“That’s correct.”
“What does that mean?”
Leon folded his hands.
“It means you are no longer a resident.” Sabrina laughed first.
“Oh my God, is this one of those security resets?” Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“Call upstairs.”
“There is no upstairs to call,” Leon said. “Unit 34B changed ownership nine days ago.”
Silence. The kind that doesn’t register immediately because arrogance needs a few extra seconds to process reality.
Adrian stared.
“What?”
Leon slid an envelope across the desk. It had Adrian’s name on the front in my handwriting.
He ripped it open right there in the lobby. Inside were three items. A copy of the closing statement. A cashier’s receipt for the sale. And a note.
Since your secretary deserved the vacation more than I did, I assumed the buyer deserved the penthouse more than you did.
According to Leon, Sabrina took one step away from Adrian the moment she read over his shoulder.
Not in sympathy. In self-protection. Because suddenly the man she had flown to the Maldives with no longer looked powerful. He looked careless. And women like Sabrina can forgive infidelity, vanity, and cruelty. But instability? Never.
next
