The mess that was left to see to after his death and resurrection only seemed to continue to grow, providing the man a near never ending list of matters that so required his attention. In the month following, he'd spent the majority of his days meeting with clients, cleaning up his finances, personally dealing with several of his less than savory transactions, and, all the while, he'd found himself waiting to see if Samantha would return to that metropolis and the apartment he'd so meticulously put together for her. It was that finality of the once fae Queen's roommate too vacating the premises that finally dragged the man to deal with that which he had been putting off for so long. It was one thing to find himself sing and alone and yet, quite another to admit that it was entirely likely she was not coming back. Why should she, really? She thought he was dead. She thought her best friend (his sibling) had betrayed her. She thought the man she'd once trusted her had betrayed her and played with her mind for his own sick amusement. Hell, if it was not for the Ark and the territory he'd built there, he would have left the damn city limits too.

A soft sigh left his lips as he fit his key into that lock, turning it before finally stepping into that apartment for the first time in nearly half a year. A small frown crossed his features as his gaze swept over the inside of that apartment. It felt so strikingly empty without her in it to greet him with that smile that she so often did. His lips pressed together and yet, the man hardly had a moment to step into that apartment before the sound of a familiar feminine voice called out to him. Vhalla. Great. He closed that door gently behind him as he stepped into the apartment, his gaze only briefly brushed over the woman as she seemed to place that he definitely was not whomever she had originally been expecting. He watched as she slowly rose to her feet, brushing off the dust only to stand before him with her arms crossed. It was the first time he'd actually seen her in something beyond that ebony suit and yet, after their last encounter, the man hardly felt terribly inclined to inform her that she looked nice in those street clothes over that assassin gear she so often wore. Still, the man hardly felt inclined to lie to her about his presence all the same.

His emerald eyes fluttered away from her as he begun to speak, instead dancing over the interior of that flat. "I came to see what was left to salvage of it....so I could decide to rent it or sell it." He commented idly, glancing but briefly towards her and the cabinet that was only just resting against the rest. "What happened to the cabinet?" Tetradore inquired with his eyebrows furrowed. He supposed, really, if that was the worst of the damage done to the place then it was hardly unsalvageable. His thoughts shifted towards that business aspect of the apartment, so attempting to distance himself from both the woman he'd lost and that argument he'd had nearly a week ago with the assassin herself. He stepped further into the living room, pausing quite abruptly at the sight of the sofa and the near irreparable state it was in. "....what the hell happened to the sofa??" He inquired, his features far more quizzical then actually angry as he glanced up towards Vhalla for answers. Dear God, what had they done here?!