I didnât wait for a reply. I bolted out of the penthouse door, the heavy oak slamming shut behind me. I didnât bother waiting for the elevator; I hit the stairwell, my boots thudding against the concrete steps as I took them three at a time.
I reached the floor below and rounded the corner into the hallway. The shouting was much louder here, the wood of Eleanorâs door vibrating with the force of the argument inside.
"I told you I donât have it, Mark! Get out!" Eleanorâs voice was a frantic scream.
I stepped up to the door and didnât hesitate. I balled my fist and hammered against the wood three times, the sound echoing like thunder in the narrow corridor.
"Eleanor! Open up!" I said.
The yelling suddenly stopped, and the door opened. Her brother stood in front of me, hair disheveled, breathing heavily like he had just run a marathon. He glanced back at Eleanor, who was standing a few meters behind him with her hands on her waist.
Mark brushed past me without saying a word and headed straight for the elevator, jabbing the button for the ground floor.
Well... that was awkward.
I looked over at Eleanor. She seemed fine. For a second, I had thought he mightâve thrown something at her, or worse, but she looked okay. Her eyes were a little red, but that was it. Thankfully, he wasnât as out of control as I had imagined.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah... yeah," she said as I stepped inside. "He was just yelling."
I closed the door behind me. "About what?"
"He wanted money. Said he found some âinvestmentâ downtown. I asked what it was, but he wouldnât tell me," she said. "Then we started arguing."
"Did he pay off his debt?" I asked.
"I asked him that too." Eleanor sat down on the couch and let out a long breath. "I think he did? I donât know, Evan. The way he acts now... it scares me. He wasnât always like this."
"Yeah... I can imagine."
"Iâm sorry I made you worry," she said quietly. "I just wishâ"
A knock on the door cut her off.
Thinking it was Mark again, she leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knees and covering her face with her hand. I let out a breath, walked to the door, and checked the peephole.
Good. Not Mark.
It was the security Nala had called earlier.
I opened the door. "Hey, everythingâs fine. No need to worry."
"Oh, alright, Mr. Marlowe."
"If that guy, Mark, comes back again," I said, "call me instead of bothering Eleanor, okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Alright. Thanks. Have a good evening."
He nodded and headed for the elevator. I closed the door and walked back into the living room, sitting down next to Eleanor.
She didnât look shakenâjust... tired. Disappointed. There was a kind of heaviness in the way she leaned back against the couch and stared up at the ceiling with her eyes half-closed.
This whole situation with her brother was clearly wearing her down. As if she didnât already have enough problems, she also had to deal with a gambling addict who owed money to the wrong people. I couldnât even begin to guess what was going through her head.
"You should try to sleep or something," I said. "Your eyes are red."
"I know... itâs just..." She sighed. "Iâve been having panic attacks, Evan. And with everything going on with my brother... I barely sleep at night."
"You should still try," I said, giving her a small smile.
I shifted closer and placed my arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her toward me.
"Mm..."
She didnât resist. She leaned into me, resting her head on my shoulder and closing her eyes.
I didnât know how that argument had ended, but I hoped that this time, Mark had actually used the money I gave him to pay off his debt.
I mean... how could someone be stupid enough to lose everything twice?
Right?
â â â
I blinked, the harsh morning light stinging my eyes.
Damn, I hadnât realized how wiped out I was. When I finally drifted back to consciousness, I found myself sprawled on Eleanorâs couch. The storm had cleared, leaving the city quiet under a fresh layer of white, and the clock on the wall was already ticking past nine. I sat up, rubbing the grit from my eyes, and caught the savory scent of bacon hitting a hot pan.
Eleanor was in the kitchen, her back to me as she worked the stove. She glanced over her shoulder and offered a small smile. "Oh, hey. Morning, Evan."
"Morning," I croaked, my voice thick with sleep. "I really crashed out, huh?"
"We both did," she chuckled, sliding a spatula under some eggs. "Iâm making bacon and eggs. You want in?"
"Sure."
She was already dressed for the day in a simple t-shirt and tight pants, looking like she was gearing up for a shift. Even though Stingy Ladies usually thrived at night, it looked like she had morning duties too. I thought about asking her if sheâd seen Isabella around lately, but I caught myself. I didnât want to drag her into my mess this early in the day.
I padded into the bathroom and flicked on the light. After splashing some cold water on my face to kill the last of the grogginess, I headed back to the kitchen just as she was plating the food. I leaned one hand on the table, pulling my phone from my back pocket to check the damage.
My heart sank a little. Jasmine and Nala had called a total of sixteen times yesterday. They must have been spiraling, hearing the shouting from downstairs and then getting nothing but radio silence from me.
"Ah... shit."
"Oh... I answered your phone, by the way. But I put it back, donât worry," Eleanor said casually.
I froze, looking up at her. "What?"
She brought two steaming plates to the table and sat down. "I, uh... I fell asleep on your shoulder yesterday. Then I woke up to your phone buzzing a few hours later. It rang once, then twice... then it just wouldnât stop. I couldnât take the noise anymore, so I picked up. Someone named Jasmine was on the other end asking about you."
"Yeah... they were definitely worried."