Amy felt sick, dreading what they would find in the next room. Jack, anger building, kept on walking.
“Right,” Pyke’s voice chimed in their ears. “The apartments on floors one through five are rented out mainly to wealthy bankers, finance boys, or celebrities. Floors six and seven are empty, and floor eight is his. He wanted two floors below him to be empty for privacy and for noise reasons. I guess if you can afford it, why not?”
“Privacy and noise reduction is not what he’s using it for,” barked Jack.
He looked to his feet, then up at Amy.
“Are you ready for the sixth floor?”
“Are we capable of vomiting?”
“I don’t know, but we’re about to find out.”
They held hands and fell through the floor together. The contrast again shocked them. They entered an enormous, brightly lit, open warehouse stretching the length and breadth of the block.