Chapter 1 #3
His fingers brushed my wrist. Heat shot straight up my arm. I cleared my throat. “Are you… flustered?”
“No,”
I raised an eyebrow.
He looked away, then back at me, shoulders tense in a way they hadn’t been earlier, not even when he admitted to half a dozen crimes.
“I’m not flustered,” he repeated.
I smiled. He exhaled, long and slow, like he wished the elevator would just fall already.
“You good?” he asked softly.
“Yes.”
His eyes skimmed over the oversized shirt hanging off me. “It’s way too big for you.”
I pulled at the hem, feeling it brush the tops of my thighs. “I noticed.”
I moved my heels and set them neatly beside the discarded heap of satin that used to be my dress. The contrast was ridiculous, glittering stilettos, expensive dress, and me now in a Crow’s shirt on an elevator floor.
I took a deep breath.
Okay. Silence. Good. This man has done enough nice things for one day. Clothing assistance, panic coaching, ventilation reassurance… I can be quiet for at least five minutes. I owe him that.
“Why didn’t you eat the mousse?” His voice cut through my thoughts.
“Sorry—what?”
“Earlier. You were upset you didn’t eat the chocolate mousse. Why didn’t you eat it?”
I stared at him like he had asked me why I hadn’t eaten a car.
“Oh. That.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Because it’s a lot of calories.”
He tilted his head, waiting.
I sighed, embarrassed. “Like, a lot a lot. And it was late. And the lighting in that restaurant is brutal and my dress it clings everywhere and, I knew my mother was—” I stopped myself before the rant spiraled into the bow-and-heel matching saga again. “It’s a really long story.”
His brow furrowed slightly.
“So, why are you in the building tonight? Other than the power thing,” I asked, quickly changing the subject, pulling my legs tighter under me. His shirt slid off one shoulder, and I tugged it back up quickly.
He stretched his arm over one bent knee. “Meeting my brother. We had a problem that needed to—”
“Let me guess,” I cut in. “Correcting?”
His eyes met mine.
A tiny smirk. “Yeah.”
I let my head fall back against the wall, the cool metal easing some part of me I hadn’t realized was tense. Silence followed. I closed my eyes for a moment and breathed.
Just breathed.
“What else do you collect?”
My eyes opened slowly. “Why?”
“You’ve got heels. Jewelry. Bows…” His gaze dipped to the ribbon in my hair again. “Feels like a pattern.”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
His mouth twitched. “Have you gone quiet on me?”
Heat rushed into my cheeks. “Just trying not to offend you.”
“Offend me how?” His brow lifted.
I blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Say something wrong. Misread something. Accidentally insult a Crow. This is dangerous territory for me.”
He looked at me for a long moment, unreadable.
“Why?” he asked. “Scared I’ll strangle you?”
“No,” I scoffed. “Humiliate me in a negotiation.”
Then he actually laughed, and it made something in my stomach drop.
“That’s not my role in the family,”
“Oh.” I nodded as if I knew anything about Crow family roles besides rumors whispered like warnings. I hesitated, then lifted an eyebrow.
“So if you don’t humiliate people in negotiations, is the strangling thing more your department?”
“It’s more the role I play in the family.”
“Oh.” My voice came out soft. “Right. Of course. That makes sense. Obviously.”
He didn’t say anything. Just watched me, like he could see every thought tripping over itself behind my eyes.
“I mean, I don’t actually know what that means,” I admitted quietly. “And I’m not stupid enough to keep asking.”
A small smile touched his mouth. I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way my pulse skipped when his gaze dropped to my shoulder.
“You cold?” he asked suddenly.
Before I could answer, his hand reached out, and pulled the collar of his shirt back over my shoulder. His knuckles brushed my skin, causing a little shiver ran straight through me.
I shook my head quickly. “No. I’m fine.”
The shirt slid right back down again. I grimaced. “Sorry.” I tugged it up again.
“Don’t be, you look good.” his eyes were locked on me.
The words came out so casually he didn’t seem to realize what he’d said until a second later, when his jaw tightened and he abruptly looked away.
“So—uh—the, uh… ventilation system should stabilize soon.”
It was such a sharp pivot I almost laughed. He looked like a man who’d dropped a compliment by accident and was still processing the fallout.
So I decided to save him.
“So,” I smoothed the shirt of my knee, “any idea how long this is going to take? Roughly? Considering, you know—” I motioned vaguely at him, “—the King of Villain is trapped in here, they should probably hurry.”
His brow arched. “King of Villain?”
I shrugged. “That’s what everyone calls the head Crow. The articles. The gossip. All the other dynasties pretending they’re not terrified of yours.”
He huffed, half laugh, half disbelief. “I’m not the head.”
“Well, you definitely outrank me. So there should be urgency.”
He smirked. “You think they’re scrambling because of me?”
“Aren’t they?”
He leaned his head back against the wall. “They’re scrambling because the sensors registered two people in a stalled elevator. Not because I’m one of them.”
“But you own the building.”
He didn’t deny it.
I crossed my arms, lifting my chin. “I’m just saying, if I owned a building and got stuck in one of my elevators, I’d expect immediate removal.”
“Immediate removal?”
“Yes.”
“With what? A crowbar?”
“A team—” I flicked my hand—“of engineers. Firefighters. Very determined men with ropes.”
One side of his mouth pulled up. “You want men with ropes breaking in here?”
“Oh my God, that’s not—” I groaned, covering my face. “That’s not what I meant.”
He laughed quietly, his head turning to the side to look at me fully. “You’re something else, Madeline.”
“Is that good?” I asked cautiously.
His eyes dragged over me.
“Yeah,” he said. Quiet. Rougher than before. “It’s good.”
And for a moment, neither of us spoke. I cleared my throat, trying to force the air back into my lungs. “So—time estimate?”
He took his time answering. “Ten minutes for the manual reset. Fifteen for the engineers to reach this floor. Power outrages across the city. It could be up to an hour.”
“Twenty-five minutes to an hour?” My shoulders dropped.
He watched the way my expression dropped, something like softness flickering across his face.
“Probably less,” he said.
“Because you’re Vincent Crow,” I teased faintly.
“No.” He paused, eyes locked on mine. “Because you pressed the emergency button three times and then asked if we should conserve air.”
Heat flooded my face. “That was—”
“Adorable,” he cut me off.
My heart stopped.
His expression shifted—regret? surprise?—like he’d said that without meaning to. So I saved him again.
“Well,” I said, “if they’re coming quicker because of me, then, I accept full credit.”
He let out a low breath. “You would.”
I lifted my chin. “Absolutely.”
Silence settled again. Five minutes, maybe more. Time felt like a blur inside the dim red glow.
“You okay?”
I nodded, eyes still on the opposite wall. Another moment passed.
“I didn’t know you could be so quiet,” he said.
My cheeks warmed. “Sorry. I know I talk a lot.”
“Madeline. I wasn’t complaining. I was saying I missed it.”
My head turned before I could stop it. “You’re just being nice.”
“You okay?” He just asked again, softer this time.
I nodded once more, even though my chest felt warm and jumpy in a way that had nothing to do with panic. We fell into another stretch of silence.
Until he moved. His hand appeared between us, palm up, and patient, like he wasn’t sure if I’d take it.
I stared for a second.
Then slid my fingers into his.
Without thinking, my other hand drifted to the ink winding over his knuckles. I traced it lightly, following the black lines like paths on a map.
“What’s this one mean?” I murmured.
“It’s for loyalty,”
“And this?” I brushed along a curved line.
“Family.”
I kept tracing, careful, and felt the weight of his attention settle on me.
A sharp jolt shook the elevator. I gasped, my fingers tightening instinctively around his hand.
“It’s alright, the system’s coming back on.”
The lights flickered, once, twice, buzzing overhead in a way that felt too loud. I panicked.
“Madeline. Look at me.”
I did.
“It’s just the backup feed syncing. You’re fine.”
“But—”
“Breathe.” His hand squeezed mine. “In… and out. The lights always flash during a reset.”
Another metallic groan vibrated through the elevator.
This one harsher.
Longer.
I grabbed his arm, his whole arm, both hands around the thick muscle of his bicep like it might save us from gravity.
“It’s fine,” he murmured at my ear. “You’re fine. I’ve got you.”
Then the elevator jolted again, hard enough that my teeth clicked. Hard enough that my entire body left the floor for a heartbeat.
I cried out before I could stop it.
“Hold on to me.”
I was already doing exactly that. The lights flashed again. Too sudden, too final. Then the entire elevator dropped.
It lurched downward like the cables had snapped,
A strangled sound ripped out of my throat. “Oh my God—oh my God—no—”
My fingers dug into his arm so hard I felt the flex of muscle under my palms. I couldn’t breathe. My ears rang. My vision blurred.
“We’re going down,” I choked. “We’re going—oh God—we’re—”
“Madeline. It’s okay.”
Okay?!
The world was literally plummeting.
“What—how—how is this—okay—” My chest seized, breath too shallow. “We’re falling—Vince—we’re falling—”
“We’re not.”
He cupped the back of my head, guiding my face toward him.
“This means the system is engaging. The brakes released. We’re moving.”
Another drop.
Harder.
My stomach slammed into my throat.
I looked up at him with tears blurring everything. “That—that wasn’t smooth—”