Page 35 of The Innocent

“Unload it onto the pavement.” The security lead commanded.

What? She whipped her head, feeling the ache in her neck. This had all the makings of a severe case of whiplash.

“It’s supposed to rain in the next hour.” She wasn’t above begging. “Please let them move it up to the apartment.”

“No,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

But it didn’t stop her next request. “Can I speak to the landlord, please?”

His lips twitched, which seemed like an odd reaction. “No.”

Her frustration was rising, but she forced a smile, turned her back, and muttered, “Do you ever say yes?”

“No.” He growled.

Dammit. That wasn’t meant for his ears. She grasped her hips and lifted her chin to the truck, addressing the movers. “Please unload it onto the parking lot.”

The movers shifted their gazes between her and security but jumped into action. Imogene stepped back, and for the next half hour watched them unload the truck onto the pavement. The skies began to darken, and she dragged her hand down her face. The last expense she needed was to have to replace her perfectly fine furniture. This was an absolute nightmare.

When the last of her possessions were out, the guy rolled down the door, and she dug into her bag, pulling out her wallet. She grabbed three twenties and handed it to the driver.

“It’s not much, but it should be enough to buy you all lunch.”

“Thanks. Appreciate it.” He glanced back at the entrance. The three men in suits remained stationed in the same position. None of them said a word.

“You okay here by yourself?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She stepped back from the truck. “Thanks again. I’ll be sure and leave you a five-star review.”

The man nodded, and they pulled out of the lot. She glanced up at the sky. The clouds were dark and moving quick. She’d prioritize her belongings. While her couch and mattress were necessities, they could be replaced if damaged. Her files could not.

She walked to the pile of her things and bent down, grabbing a box. Several sets of black shoes appeared in her line of sight, and she looked up. Security had gone from three men to ten.

Mr. No stood in front of the group. “You have two apartments. 705 for your living space. 707 for your office.” He bent down and grabbed two boxes. “I assume these go in your office?”

Wait, were they going to move her things upstairs? It appeared so. She broke out in a wide grin.

“Yes.”

He gave a curt nod, and others started to grab the remaining boxes. When she bent down to pick up the last one, the deep, graveled voice snapped. “We will move it.”

She raised her brows. “I can help.”

His gaze darkened, and he released a heavy breath. “Or? You can stay down here, instruct my men where your belongings go, and do what you’re told.”

She clamped her lips, nodding. “I can do that.”

He turned, and she noticed his head shake before he walked into the building. By some type of miracle, all her things had been moved into both apartments in less than thirty minutes. It was interesting to watch the men. They moved like soldiers. No one said a word, at least not in her presence. Even when she thanked them all for their help, none gave any type of verbal response or reaction.

After she’d unloaded the last of her suitcases from the car, she was escorted up to the seventh floor by Mr. No. Her apartments were at the opposite end of the hallway from the elevators. She glanced at the doors as they passed. Not one had any type of decorative hanging or welcome mat.

He stopped at 705 and handed her two sets of keys.

“Thank you.”

“The rules,” he stated.

“Oh, I have a copy of the lease in my email, so I can…”