Chapter 78
Paul arrived in the Rockefeller Center garage as out of breath as if he’d been sprinting rather than riding down in an elevator.
At least at five in the morning there hadn’t been anyone to stop him on any of the passing floors.
Except himself. He’d hit the damn first floor button out of habit before punching for the garage and had to wait for the doors to cycle despite his frantic pounding of the “Door Close” button.
He shoved himself out the elevator door and turned the corner.
The Ferrari sat there, unmoved and empty.
“What kind of game are you playing at, Rikka?” he asked the silent garage.
Not silent.
He heard the squeal of car tires on the ramp a level above then the hard rev of a large, highly-tuned engine exiting the garage.
That’s when he saw his Ferrari’s key.
