Chapter 7

Burning in Madness Chapter 07 

The heart of Manhattan. The penthouse floor of the Rothwell Holdings headquarters. 

Ding. 

The black–and–gold doors of the private elevator slid apart with a breathless whisper. 

I hadn’t bothered with pants. I was wearing nothing but the oversized white button–down Arthur had left behind last night, a trench coat carelessly thrown over my shoulders. The sharp clack of my red–soled Louboutins against the marble floor violently slashed through the dead silence of this seat of power. 

“Ma’am? You can’t just-” 

The head secretary tried to intercept me, but her eyes darted to the dark, violent marks branding my collarbone. The rest of her sentence died in her throat in sheer panic.