Chapter 4
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After work in the afternoon, almost everyone in the office was gone.
Latrina stood by the window, watching Eduardo downstairs holding flowers and waiting. She couldn’t help but snort softly.
Eduardo was the deputy party secretary in the municipal government. That was a title his father had pulled strings to secure, though it was little more than an empty honor.
His father, owner of Denver’s largest car dealership, had never approved of his relationship with Latrina. He much preferred Sonya’s family background.
Sonya’s parents were government officials, and a marriage between the two families could directly link the Gillespie family’s transportation business to government projects.
So Sonya was sure she could win Eduardo over in the end. However, since Eduardo was still Latrina’s boyfriend, their romance was hidden in
secrecy.
Latrina stood at the elevator, answering Eduardo’s call through her earphones.
She scrolled through a comic on her iPad, her face twisted in disgust, but her voice oozed sickly sweetness as she faked adoration,
“Okay, honey, you head over first. I’ll be there soon–I’ll be on time, don’t worry.”
She didn’t notice the elevator doors had already slid open. Kelvin was holding them ajar with a hand, keeping them from closing. Her over–the–top, fake flirtation drew a faint smile from Gerhart, who stood inside the elevator.
Kelvin didn’t dare to laugh and turned his face away.
“Yeah, you know my boss, a total vampire, working us to the bone…”
She was about to go on, but when she glanced up, her eyes locked with Gerhart’s darkening expression. She also caught Kelvin’s deer–in–headlights look.
Panic shot through her, and she fumbled to end the call.
“Mr. Crowley…”
He grunted in reply.
Somehow, she thought she spotted the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Get in!” Kelvin hissed, shooting her pointed, urgent looks.
Latrina forced a smile, stepped inside, and stood rigidly by the elevator wall.
An awkward silence descended over the three of them.
That was how much trouble one careless sentence could stir up.
“Ms. Glover, are you off to a date?” Gerhart asked.
“Not exactly,” Latrina blurted out.“Just
taking a ‘friend‘ to the crematorium.”
“Need a hand?” He didn’t sound the least bit surprised.
“Not for now,” she said, forcing another smile.
Kelvin, catching what she really meant, stifled a cough,
Latrina’s twisted romance with Eduardo was hardly a secret between the three of them.
The elevator stopped at the 18th floor, home to the Publicity Department, and suddenly seven or eight people piled in.
Kelvin and Latrina quickly stepped back to make room.
“Hi, Mr. Crowley!” they chorused, sounding perfectly at ease.
Gerhart only nodded slightly.
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The Publicity Department crew was notoriously outgoing, always joking and chatting. Even in the cramped elevator, they kept the conversation flowing nonstop.
“Move over a bit. No room here!” someone called out, and the elevator grew even more crowded.
Just then, Latrina felt a firm, sudden grip around her waist.
Warmth seeped through her thin shirt as she was tugged to Gerhart’s side. Her foundation dusted lightly against his black suit, leaving a faint smudge.
But he released her just as quickly.
In an instant, her face burned like a furnace.
When the elevator reached the first floor, the Publicity Department team filed out in a rush, their voices trailing behind them.
“Did you see that? The hickey on Mr. Crowley’s neck!”
“I heard Mr. Crowley had breakfast with someone this morning. I have no idea who it was, but that love bite? Definitely from a woman!”
Latrina thought, “Ugh, the Publicity Department really lives up to its name, spreading gossip like wildfire!”
At that moment, she wanted to slip out with them, but when she saw Eduardo still waiting by the door, she quickly shrank back to the side.
Gerhart’s gaze flickered to her, his expression giving nothing away.
“Are you going out?” Kelvin asked, smiling.
Latrina was certain he knew exactly what was going on.
If she left now, she’d meet that jerk Eduardo. But if she stayed, should she tag along with them?
She’d already ridden in Gerhart’s car once today. Sneaking out in it again would be too conspicuous.
“I left something upstairs. You guys go on ahead. I’ll head back up in a minute.” Latrina lied, forcing a casual tone.
It dragged on even this one–floor ride felt endless, like a knife at her throat, ready to end her at any moment.
When the elevator reached BL, they stepped out, and Latrina finally sighed in relief.
Stuck between leaving and staying, she eventually trudged back to her desk to bury herself in sketching.
On the 28th floor of the Crowley Building.
Latrina let out a long, relieved breath. She wandered back to the windowsill, gazing out at the scattered lights below.
Then she settled back at her desk, turned on some soft music, and immersed herself in sketching.
She had no idea how much time had passed before Eduardo called her again. She ignored it and turned off her phone. Then fetched a cup of
coffee from the break room and dove back into her work.
She thought, “Just you wait. I’ll make you pay for it, bastard!”
At 10:30 p.m., Latrina gave a satisfied smile, admiring the finished sketch.
She shut her laptop, stretched lazily, slung her bag over her shoulder, and headed for the elevator.
To her surprise, both elevator indicator lights were dark.
Frowning, she unlocked her phone and checked the department group chat: “Elevator maintenance in progress. It will resume operation at 8 a.m.
tomorrow.”
She murmured, “You’ve got to be kidding. Does it mean I have to trek down 28 flights of stairs?”
She snapped a photo of the dark elevators, opened Instagram, and posted it with the caption, “Trapped. Anyone coming to rescue me…”
Then, with a heavy sigh, she dragged her feet toward the dim, eerie fire escape.
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She sighed, gathered her courage, and walked downstairs.
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She’d barely taken two steps when her phone suddenly rang. Startled, she yelled and dropped it into the middle of the stairwell, not even glancing at the caller ID.
The ringtone echoed briefly through the concrete steps before cutting off. Instantly, darkness swallowed the space, leaving only the faint sound of her ragged breathing.
Latrina groped around for the phone, but its screen was pitch–black. Probably, it was broken from the fall.
She thought, “Damn! Why am I so unlucky?”
She mashed the power button repeatedly, hoping it could spring back to life.
But the screen stayed dark. Upstairs, though, a sensor light flickered on.
Just then, a sharp, rhythmic sound echoed down the stairs.
She heard the sound made by leather shoes and the soft huff of someone breathing.
“Who’s there? Latrina shrank back into the corner, sweat beading on her forehead.
The footsteps stopped.
A tall figure loomed on the step above, backlit by the dim sensor light, his silhouette sharp but his expression hidden in shadow.
“Don’t you recognize me, your ‘vampire boss‘?”
She realized it was Gerhart.
Mr. Crowley? W–why are you still here?” Latrina’s voice trembled, her body rigid with fear.
“Vampires tend to be busy at night, don’t they?”
His voice carried a hint of that teasing lilt, as if she could see the smirk playing at his lips.
Latrina fell silent, thinking, “So he remembered my offhand comment. This man is quite unforgiving.”
Still, she relaxed slightly. At least he wasn’t some stranger lurking in the dark.
Though truth be told, he didn’t exactly feel like a “good gentleman” either.
“Come up with me,” he said.
“I’m going home,” she mumbled.
She suddenly found him more intimidating than any shadowy stairwell.
Gerhart let out a faint, almost imperceptible huff through his nose.
“The first floor’s locked. You wouldn’t get out,” he said flatly.
He paused, then added, “Elevator repairs usually take an hour or two. If you don’t mind, come up for a coffee.
She thought, Can I say I do mind?”
But it didn’t seem like she had a choice.
Gerhart didn’t wait for her answer, just turned and started climbing back up.
Latrina glanced at the pitch–black void of the stairs below, then reluctantly followed.
Even the fire escape on the 30th floor had access control.
