Chapter 1 - THE ELEVATOR WAS A TRAP
“Claire, that elevator didn’t break by accident.”
Vincent Hayes said it calmly, which somehow made the words worse.
I stared at him from the back seat of the black sedan.
Outside, Chicago slid past in wet streaks of neon and headlights. Inside, Luke sat in the passenger seat with one hand resting near his jacket.
My pulse accelerated.
“What do you mean?”
Vincent turned his phone toward me.
A security image filled the screen.
The service elevator.
A maintenance panel open beside the doors.
A man in a gray uniform crouched in front of the controls less than twenty minutes before my shift ended.
“That technician doesn’t work for Hayes Tower.”
I looked closer.
The man's face was turned away.
“So someone sabotaged it?”
“Yes.”
“To hurt you?”
Vincent watched me carefully.
“Possibly.”
“Then why did I get fired?”
His jaw tightened.
“I didn’t order that.”
I almost laughed.
“Your people told my supervisor I couldn’t return.”
“Someone used my name.”
That answer frightened me more than the alternative.
I crossed my arms.
“And the phone calls?”
His expression changed.
“What phone calls?”
“People calling me and saying nothing.”
“How many?”
“Six.”
Vincent looked toward Luke.
Luke immediately pulled out his phone.
“Trace what you can.”
I shook my head.
“You don’t get to take over my life.”
Vincent looked back at me.
“No.”
His voice lowered.
“But someone has already dragged you into mine.”
The sedan turned onto a quieter street.
I recognized expensive stone townhouses and private security booths.
“Where are we going?”
“My residence.”
“No.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow.
“You said somewhere safe. Your house is not somewhere safe.”
For the first time, something almost amused crossed his face.
“You slapped my hand away while trapped in a broken elevator.”
“You touched me without permission.”
“And you’re still arguing.”
“That should tell you something.”
“It does.”
His smile disappeared.
“It tells me you’re exactly the person they were hoping I’d underestimate.”
I went cold.
“Who is they?”
Vincent reached into a folder beside him and handed me a photograph.
My grandmother.
She was twenty-five years younger, standing outside Hayes Tower beside another woman and a much younger Vincent.
My breathing stopped.
“Why do you have this?”
Vincent answered quietly:
“Because your grandmother worked for my father.”
I stared at him.
He continued.
“And twenty-three years ago, she disappeared with something men in my family were willing to kill for.”
Then Luke turned around from the front seat.
“Boss.”
“What?”
Luke’s face had gone pale.
“We just traced one of Claire’s anonymous calls.”
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“Where did it come from?”
May you like
Luke swallowed.
“Inside Hayes Tower.”
