The dark elevator cabin shook violently as the heavy machinery above ground to a grinding, brutal halt. The soft background hum of the lift completely died, leaving behind a terrifying silence that felt heavier than lead.

Clara gasped softly, her fingers grabbing tight onto the front of Lucian's dark coat as her feet lost their balance for a split second. The elevator was stuck. They were suspended in a tiny metal box somewhere between the seventieth and seventy-first floors of Crown Tower, hanging hundreds of feet in the air above the stormy Manhattan streets.

"Stay calm, I've got you," Lucian whispered instantly. His voice was deep, steady, and completely calm,...