Timothy arrived forty minutes after Emily's call, moving through the penthouse with controlled fury. Sebastian was right behind him, and Jack followed with two more security personnel.
Emily met them in the living room. She'd changed out of her blood-spattered pajamas into comfortable clothes, but Timothy could see the tension in her shoulders, the alertness in her eyes.
He crossed to her immediately, cupping her face in his hands, searching for injuries. "You're sure you're okay?"
"I'm sure," Emily said. "Timothy, I'm fine. I handled it."
"You shouldn't have had to handle it," Timothy said, his voice tight. "You should have been safe. In our home."
"And yet someone got through," Emily said quietly. "Which means this is bigger than we thought."
