“The night I got trapped inside an elevator with Chicago’s most feared mafia boss, I made the mistake of telling him to keep his hands off me. By morning, I had lost my job, strange men were watching my apartment, and Vincent Hayes—the man who had threatened me inside that elevator—was waiting outside in a black sedan with its rear door open.
At 11:47 p.m., I was leaving my cleaning shift at Hayes Tower when Vincent stepped into the elevator beside me. I was exhausted, thinking about my grandmother’s medication and the bills waiting on our kitchen table.
Then the elevator jolted violently.
The lights flickered, and we stopped between floors.
Vincent repeatedly pressed the buttons before pulling out his phone.
“No signal,” he muttered, slamming his fist against the panel.
I flinched.
“Let’s not do that,” I said quietly.
His gray eyes turned toward me.
“No one tells me what to do.”
I pressed the emergency button.
Static.
Nothing.
“Someone will notice we’re stuck,” I said.
Then the elevator dropped an inch.
I grabbed the railing as the lights went completely dark.
When the emergency lighting returned, Vincent was standing inches from me.
“You’re awfully calm,” he observed. “Most people would be terrified of being trapped with me.”
My heart was pounding.
“Panicking won’t get us out, sir.”
He stepped closer, placing one hand against the wall beside my shoulder.
“You know who I am?”
“I clean your offices every night.”
“Then you understand why displeasing me is dangerous.”
His expensive cologne filled the narrow space.
“I’m just trying to get home,” I replied.
His fingers brushed my hair, tucking a loose strand behind my ear.
Then they moved along my jaw.
I knocked his hand away.
“Back off. Power isn’t permission.”
For several seconds, Vincent stared at me.
Then a slow, unsettling smile appeared.
Before he could speak, the elevator groaned and began descending.
When the doors opened, two armed bodyguards were waiting.
One grabbed my forearm.
“Boss, did she cause trouble? Should we detain her?”
Vincent looked at the guard’s hand.
“Let her go.”
The man immediately released me.
“She’s not to be harmed. Understood?”
I hurried outside, barely breathing until I reached the bus stop.
At home, my grandmother was asleep, with a plate of food waiting beneath a cloth. I put it in our nearly empty refrigerator so we could share it tomorrow.
Only after closing my bedroom door did I start shaking.
The next morning, my supervisor called.
“Claire, management believes the elevator may have been sabotaged. Hayes’s people don’t want you returning until further notice.”
My stomach dropped.
“Brian, I didn’t do anything!”
“I believe you. But we can’t risk losing the contract.”
There was no replacement shift available.
I had lost my income.
When Grandma asked what happened, I told her the building was undergoing maintenance.
Then the strange calls started.
Nobody spoke when I answered.
By afternoon, a black sedan had appeared outside our apartment three separate times.
I waited until Grandma fell asleep, then walked toward a nearby church.
The sedan followed.
I quickened my pace.
It accelerated, pulled ahead, and blocked my path.
The passenger window lowered.
Vincent Hayes was sitting inside.
“Get in the car, Claire.”
The rear door opened.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere safe.”
I looked at the man sitting in the front passenger seat.
It was Luke.
The same bodyguard who had grabbed my arm outside the elevator.
And when I climbed into the back seat, Vincent turned toward me.
PART 2
Vincent turned toward me, his expression unreadable.
