Her eyes fluttered open, hazy, unfocused, and the instant she recognized my face, the tears spilled over.
"Suse, run… you have to run…"
She grabbed my sleeve.
"You can't fight them… they'll sue you…"
"They have lawyers, they have connections. We can't afford this…"
I crouched in front of her and wiped the liquor and blood from her face with the back of my hand.
"Mila, who the hell said anything about fighting?"
"I'm here to take you home. That's it."
Zane had already pulled his phone from his pocket.
"Mr. Perry, there's a situation on the top floor. Some thugs causing trouble. Bring people up, now!"
He hung up, tilted his head, and looked at me with a smirk.
"Susannah, you really think you can roll in here with a couple of punk-ass kids and run wild on my turf?"
"Just you wait."
Less than five minutes later, a stream of people filed into the suite.
Leading them was a man in his early fifties, hair slicked back, wearing a tailored suit.
Lucas Perry. Vice President of the company's Greater American division.
Behind him trailed two attorneys carrying briefcases and over thirty corporate security guards in matching black uniforms with earpieces.