The response was so comically surprised that Kavinsky couldn't help but chuffing up a little bit. If he knew that Cain was considering him too trashy to be wealthy, Kavinsky would have set him straight: he was trashy and loaded.

"Does it matter?" he asked, raising a brow. They stepped back out into the hall, and Kavinsky wandered a few open doors until he found the one he was looking for. In the room, there was a partition that didn't quite reach the ceiling but which separated it neatly, except for a hole just about waist height on the partition. You wouldn't see whoever was on the far side of it from the door.

Kavinsky stepped toward the partition, prepared to slip behind it. "Just call me Koshmar*."


(*Nightmare)