Ian Sheffield wasn't lying. He really wasn't the one behind this. As for who was, it wasn't yet time for her to know.
"Oh."
Erin Lowell wasn't curious about things that didn't concern her, so she didn't press the issue.
Just as the elevator doors were about to close, a hand shot out to stop them. Zane Jennings got in, positioning himself between the two of them.
Ian Sheffield shuffled to the side to make some room. His gaze fell on Zane's bloody hand, his own expression unreadable. "Which floor?"
Zane Jennings looked like he didn't want to talk. "Same floor as her."
Ian Sheffield maintained his gentlemanly demeanor perfectly. He was alarmed but not flustered, his expression remaining as placid as ever. "Mm."
After that, there was no further conversation.
As the elevator began to ascend, Ian Sheffield watched Zane's reflection in the polished walls. Dressed in black, his stance was casual and lazy—but not sloppy—and he exuded an untamed energy.
