Trapped in the elevator
The skyline became a swirl of rain and lightning as the storm outside became stronger during the night. However, the tension from the earlier debate persisted inside the penthouse like a second, more subdued storm, and neither Emilia nor Adrian seemed eager to confront it. The following morning, Emilia was standing in the hallway with her arms crossed. She needed air—fresh air, private air, anything that didn’t smell like pricey marble and unspoken words. She wasn't sprinting. Not now. All she wanted was a moment of her own breathing. But Adrian appeared to have foreseen every move she made. He appeared at the hallway door as though he had emerged from the shadows and inquired, "Where are you going?""Downstairs," she replied. "Just to the lobby." I'm sta
