Free The Fifth Avenue Series Boxed Set by Christopher Smith Page A

recoiled.   Her heart thundering, her sense of direction shattered, Leana stumbled to her feet.   The door was across the room, a million miles away.   She ran for it.
    Tried to run for it.
    Eric grasped her ankle and she lost her balance.   The room whirled.   Leana knew it was over at the same instant her forehead struck the carpet.  
    But Eric did nothing.   He was on his feet, suddenly aware of what he’d just done.   How could he have lost control like that?   What had gotten into him?
    He looked at Leana.   She was lying motionless on her stomach, her head buried in the crook of her arm.   The area of carpet surrounding her was stained with her blood.   A wave of nausea overcame him and he wondered how badly she was hurt.   She wasn’t moving….
    He glanced at his watch.   How long had Celina been gone?   Four minutes?   Five?   If she told George what she had seen, he would be coming up here now.
    His drunken haze lifting, he stepped over Leana, locked the bedroom door and hurried into his clothes.
    Leana waited.   She listened to the sound of Eric dressing and peered across the room.   He was standing in front of the dressing table, tucking in his shirt, quickly checking his appearance in the oval mirror.   He was fully dressed now—except for the belt, which was still clutched in his hand.
    He faced her.   There was a moment when their eyes met, when a universe of hatred passed between them, and then Eric said calmly, “These are your options—you can either get yourself cleaned up and pretend none of this happened, or you can run to your father and tell him everything.”   He moved toward her, the belt swinging like a pendulum by his side.   “And doing that, Leana, would be a mistake.”
    As he approached, Leana recoiled, her eyes riveted on the belt.   A section of it was stained with her blood.   “Get out,” she gasped.   “I’ll call the police.”
    “You can do whatever you want,” Eric said.   “But I promise you this—if you do call the police, or go to your father, I’ll have a contract put out on you so goddamned fast it’ll make your head spin.   You hear me?   I hope so.   Because I will do it.   I’ve got the money and I’ve got the contacts.   If anything happens to me, you die.   It’s that simple.”
     
     
    *    *    *
     
     
    The elevator door slid open and Celina hurried out.   She slipped through the crowd, avoiding the questioning stares, not stopping until she came upon the twin glass doors that were across the lobby.
    Curtains of rain were billowing down the avenue, lashing the windows and the reporters on the sidewalk.   She turned to ask a doorman for an umbrella and came face to face with the man from security who gave her Leana’s message.
    He nodded at her.
    Celina moved in his direction.
    “That message you gave me—you’re certain it came from my sister?”  
    “She told me herself she was your sister.”
    She had to be certain it was Leana who did this.   “Describe her for me.”
    “Long dark hair and she’s pretty.   I only talked to her for a few seconds.”
    “What she was wearing?”
    “A white dress, I think.   It left one of her shoulders bare.”
    Celina turned away from the man, her stomach sinking.   She was about to leave when she saw her father moving in her direction, sifting through the crowd, his expression grim.   “We need to talk,” he said.
    She wanted out of here, but she didn’t want to tip him off.   She followed him to an area just behind the waterfall.
    “I just got off the phone with RRK.   They’re worried about what happened today.   I think they’re going to back out of the deal.   They’re waiting to see what the police find.”
    “And?”
    “If there’s even the slightest hint that those spotlights were rigged in protest of our deal with WestTex, they’ll pull financing.   Richards says it’ll be a public relations nightmare if we takeover that company in lieu of