Corrupt

13. The Art of Stealing Champagne

13. The Art of Stealing Champagne

        I knew I wasn't supposed to be up here.

        With my fingers gripping the bottle of champagne wedged between them tightly, I leaned over the balcony. Dozens of floors below me, I could make out car lights and many people passing by, even at this time of night.

        And Jace still wasn't back.

        I leaned my head back, taking a swig of the expensive drink. Enjoying the tingle that flooded down my throat as I swallowed, I shook my head to clear the haziness that was suddenly fogging my mind. But, wasn't that the point of the alcohol I had consumed? I was a lightweight - that was for sure. I didn't often drink such beverages, though when I did it always hit me hard.

        Feeling heat begin to swirl over my skin, I hiccuped as I fanned myself with my other hand. For a summer night, the air seemed too warm. I giggled, an idea suddenly hitting me. Placing the bottle by my feet, I tugged my sweatshirt of my head. Tossing it onto the concrete beneath my feet, my sweats came of next. The red lace thong and matching bra-set I had purchased when my guards had stopped at the mall so I could pick up some clothing felt fabulous against my skin in the night air.

        Swallowing another mouthful, I stumbled a few steps back. It had been hard enough to get my hands on such a bottle.

        I could eyes on me. It wasn't the most comfortable feeling, knowing that someone was constantly watching you - it certainly wasn't something I was adjusted to. With no siblings, absentee-parents growing up, and a place to live on my own, the feeling was so abnormal I could feel the resentment curling in my gut.

        My eyes rotated to stare at Duke leaning against the wall, staring at me stiffly. The professional expression masked any emotion that he may have felt towards the situation, though I could still feel tiny waves of resentment rolling from him. Linc and Trevor had been the same, hiding any negative emotions that they may have felt towards the situation they were now in. I couldn't imagine that looking after a woman was very enthralling. The car ride to his overly-large penthouse had been a silent one, something I was strangely thankful for. The trio wanted as little to do with me, as I them.

        Turning to move my gaze around his apartment, I resisted an urge to shiver. It was nice, to say the least. Dark hardwood floors covered the entirety of his apartment, contrasting with the white walls and matching with the plush, leather couches. Windows encompassed a huge wall of the living room, giving a glimpse of the night lights of New York. There wasn't any personal items lying around and I was positive that every surface was free of dust or cobwebs. Overall, the space was huge, cold, and spotless.

        I wandered into the kitchen, relief pooling in my blood when I realized that Duke not was following me. I didn't understand the necessity to have eyes on me at all times, though I had a feeling it came from the mistrust that Jace had for me.

        I was still shocked at the sight of the kitchen that was laid out before me. Trevor had given me a tour of the penthouse as soon as we had arrived, though the number of rooms decorating the three floors was lost on my mind. A huge island sat in the middle of the space, fancy stools shoved underneath the breakfast bar. The detailing of the dark cabinets had me wanting to run my fingers over the beauty of them, though I resisted in fear that I would leave fingerprints upon their perfect surfaces. Coupled with the huge, high-end, industrial-sized, stainless appliances and the window also donning the wall in front of the lengthy table, it was a kitchen any chef would dream for.