The elevator felt smaller with every passing second.
Amelia sat carefully against the wall, one hand resting on her stomach while the emergency lights cast soft red shadows around the enclosed space.
Her breathing had improved.
Slightly.
Mostly because Ethan was still on the phone.
He hadn’t hung up.
Not once.
Not even for a second.
And somehow that mattered.
A lot.
“Talk to me.”
His voice came through the speaker.
Steady.
Calm.
Controlled.
The same voice he used during billion-dollar negotiations.
The same voice he used during crises.
The same voice he was using now.
For her.
Amelia smiled weakly.
“What do you want me to talk about?”
“Anything.”
Silence.
Then he added:
“I don’t want you sitting there alone.”
Her chest tightened.
Dangerous.
Everything about him h
