Page 55 of Parker

The Level Series; Book One

Violet

As I stand, gazing up at the glass skyscraper, my heart sinks.

This is the last place I ever expected to end up—the doorstep of my brothers, forced to beg for their help.

It’s been over a decade since we laid eyes on each other.

I only know they live in Canary Wharf through gossip.

When I ran away to America thirteen years ago, setting foot back in London was never planned.

Now, here I am, penniless and alone, praying they’ll help me.

The double glass doors trimmed with chrome effortlessly slide open as I approach them.

A tall, lean man wearing a suit with a black tie advances.

His eyes narrow as he looks up and down my body.

My attire is far from what the ladies who live in this building would usually wear.

I imagine only designer labels make it past the threshold.

But these were the only items I could grab before running and have acted as both clothing and a disguise for the past forty-eight hours as I got the hell out of Chicago.

The oversized Chicago White Sox shirt paired with boyfriend-style jeans drown my small frame.

Weight has fallen off me in a matter of days—stress has that effect.

I’ve barely eaten, even though I know I must. The tight braid my long dark hair was woven into hours ago is still in place and tucked snug under a black baseball cap, though errant strands escape all over the place.

Being made to sleep on the plane, in the airport, and at the bus station on my journey hasn’t been conducive to maintaining my appearance.

The high-top trusty red Converse with the telltale star on my feet are the only items that are mine.

“Good evening, madam,” the security guard says politely. His expression remains impassive as he speaks. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“My brothers live in this building. I’m here to visit them,” I reply as firmly as possible. “Russell and Connor Chase.” His arched eyebrow tells me he thinks I’m lying.

“Are they expecting you?”

“No, this is an unexpected visit. It’s been a while since we met up, and I wanted to surprise them.” His eyes move to the large black duffel bag in my hand. My shoulder sags as the bulk affects my stance.

“Can I take your bag for you? Ms. Chase, is it?” he asks, and I nod, then pass it to him.

He turns and walks into the luxurious foyer of the apartment block.

I follow behind, my gaze scanning the room, taking in the opulent wealth.

Everything is either wrapped in leather or carved from marble. All surfaces are edged in silver.

Not that money is something I’m unaccustomed to. For the past thirteen years, I’ve gone to the best restaurants in Chicago, worn designer clothes, and dripped with expensive jewelry. The rewards all came at a high price. My future. My independence. My family.

“My brothers live on the top floor,” I say, feigning knowledge I don’t have.

They like nice things too. I would bet the shirt off my back that one of them has the penthouse.

“I’ve never actually visited. I live in Chicago, you see.

The years pass so fast, before you know it, over ten have disappeared.

” He grunts, not agreeing or disagreeing with me. “Do you know if they’re home?”

“I believe they are,” he says. “I’ll phone ahead for you.

Mr. Russell lives in the penthouse. Mr. Connor has an apartment on the floor below.

” I smile to myself—pretentious bastards, always needing to have the best of everything, the flashiest cars, the most expensive watches and now, the highest apartments in one of the most expensive buildings in the city.

“Please don’t,” I interject. “I really do want to surprise them. I’ll take the elevator up and knock on their door. I’ll get them to call down to assure you everything is all right.”

He pauses and gives me one last look-over, assessing me for threats. I think. Personally, I couldn’t look less dangerous if I tried. Everything about me screams pathetic and dejected. I peek up at him with wide brown eyes from under my cap, pleading in pitiful silence. He sighs, defeated.

“Okay,” he says, resigned. “But don’t tell anyone. Your brothers would have my balls for letting you in here, unchecked and without invitation. I have bills to pay and kids to feed.”

“Thank you, I won’t tell a soul.” I grab his hand between my two small, grubby ones and shake it enthusiastically before taking my bag from him. He wipes his palm on his pristine black pant leg. “What did you say your name was?” I ask.

“Matthew,” he replies with a kind smile.

“Lovely to meet you, Matthew. I’m Violet.

Violet Chase.” With a small wave, I move in the direction of the elevator.

He appears behind me moments later as I press the button frantically in an attempt to summon it.

As he passes a small black card across a sensor, the doors part.

“Thank you,” I mumble, embarrassed by my idiocy.

Somewhere like this will have high security, especially considering the type of people who live here and the circles they move in.

En route back to London, I did some research about who my brothers, both lawyers, are currently linked with.

They certainly move in an ever-darkening world.

Their law firm has been defending the Irish mafia in recent years.

I always knew they had ambition; it looks like the firm keeps getting bigger.

I step into the intricate glass cube edged with chrome and hit the button for floor fifty-seven, one floor below the penthouse.

Of my two brothers, I’ve always gotten along better with Connor—he’s less bristly than Russell.

Being the middle child, he was used to being overlooked while I threw a fit and our older brother had a pre-teenage meltdown.

Connor would stand by and wait for the whole of hell to let loose, smile, then wander off to play Lego. I’d rather see him first.

The elevator is attached to the outside of the building and treats me to a bird’s-eye view of the city as we rise.

As beautiful as it is, heights are not one of my strong points, and my stomach somersaults.

The further I go, the less well I feel, retreating as far from the glass windows as I can.

Finally, pressed against the door, I crouch to the ground and close my eyes. Will this fucking trip never end ?

I come to a stop, and the doors open silently, causing me to fall out into a lobby. I crawl across the navy and silver checked carpet, dragging my bag behind me. My legs shake from my unexpected brush with my phobia of heights.

When I glance up, I see a large frame on the wall.

Inside it, the London skyline is painted in charcoal along the bottom edge.

The words The Level are written above it.

A solid wood door to the left-hand side of the artwork has a brass plaque telling me that behind it is the boardroom.

The set-up surprises me. I thought I was visiting their home, not an office.

The small lobby has a blue velvet corner sofa, large enough to seat six people.

There is a low, dark wood coffee table decorated with a fresh bouquet of summer flowers, all in whites and blues.

The walls are painted a deep gray, with huge canvases depicting a famous city location hanging on every one.

They’re the type of paintings that you could get lost in, full of intricate detail.

After sitting on the floor for a few minutes, my head and legs stop swirling, and I’m able to stand.

I stare at the closed elevator doors and my resolve wavers.

Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea. What if they reject me?

I have nowhere else to go. They always warned me my impulsive attitude would bring me tears, and it did, though it took over a decade for the truth to come out.

Thirteen years ago, my brothers had both left home to study and practice law in London.

I was eighteen and had recently secured a place to train in musical theatre at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland .

My final summer in Kensington was filled with lazy days at my parent’s home and parties every weekend.

My friends and I were moving on to new pastures after leaving school.

All of us scattered across the world to study in our relevant fields.

During my first week at university, my father asked a business associate to check in on me to ensure I’d settled.

That was when I met Aiden Marley. He’d appeared at my apartment on a Thursday afternoon, dressed in a sharp black suit teamed with perfectly polished shoes.

He explained my father had asked him to visit while he was in Glasgow.

I’d invited him into my home. He took up residence in my heart.

In his early thirties, I’d been blown away by his confidence and charm.

He’d treated me like a queen every time he visited and made love to me as if I was the only woman on earth.

For a year, he came to see me when he was in the city on business.

We didn’t tell anyone, knowing my father wouldn’t approve of the vast difference in our ages.

He told me once I graduated, I could move to Chicago to be with him.

I couldn’t wait that long. At the end of my first year, I gave notice to the school and packed up, arriving unannounced at Aiden’s office in his advertising firm the following day.

I now know that the shocked look on his face hadn’t been because he was overjoyed to see me.

It had been sheer and utter panic. He’d herded me into his office and closed the blinds.

“What are you doing here?” he said sharply.

I’d launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely.

“Violet! This is my place of work. You can’t turn up here unannounced. ”