Miguel has turned off his phone, seemingly for a long time, yet he's still standing there, in the dark. He touches his chin—the pain shoots through his brain. His face had hit the concrete floor hard when Claire kicked him in the groin, and he's sure it's going to bruise badly. It was not very noticeable on FaceTime, but tomorrow at lunch, if he has the balls to attend it, Gabriel would notice it and ask questions.
He's standing on the sidewalk. He looks behind him, as the entrance door of the building swings open. Miguel steps back into the shadows as he sees Dale, the general manager of The Residence, Claire's lavish home, stepping out to speak to the door man. Miguel quietly watches them. He must not be seen. He doesn't really want to freak her out. But there's something about his feelings for her that makes him do things he would never have done in a million lifetimes—and yet here he is, there he was, acting like a mad man. Is he really going down this slippery slope?
