Page 19 of Fated to the Enemy Alpha

“Sorry?” I asked.

“You can follow up with Hamilton next week if you’d like,” he said.

I blinked, surprised. It was an olive branch. I had secured Hamilton’s funding. It was my information that led to including him in the round, and Stephen was giving me the credit I deserved: a client of my own to handle.

I tried not to let it mean too much. “Thanks. Sure, I’ll call him Monday.”

“You all right? You seem distracted,” he said, his gaze searching mine.

“Yeah, fine,” I replied, keeping my voice cool and detached.

He frowned, taking in my fingers, still tapping nervously against my thigh. “You can talk to me if there’s something on your mind.”

Awkwardness swam through me, curdling with the resentment that was never far away. Perhaps it was my agitation, the thought of the enclosed space I was soon to be ensconced in, but I snapped, “Talk to you?”

He looked taken aback by my tone for a brief moment. Then, he more gently added, “Of course. I care about you, Lina.”

Even though I felt the charged moment, I pushed past it. His gentle tone had the opposite effect he’d intended, and the bitterness bubbled up in my chest until I couldn’t hold it back. “Let’s be crystal clear—it’s only business between us, nothing else. After all, it won’t be long before I’m your stepmother.”

A shadow of hurt flickered in his eyes.

He nodded slowly, a subtle tension threading through his posture.

Finally, the elevator reached the fiftieth floor, and we got in. He pressed the button for the basement car park, the silence thick and awkward as the doors closed behind us.

The elevator began its descent. The quiet in the small space felt grating, but I was determined to maintain the line I’d just drawn between us.

But then, the lift reached the eleventh floor and lurched.

My stomach somersaulted, the sound of grinding metal setting my teeth on edge, and the elevator ground to a shaky halt. The lights flickered, and we were plunged into darkness.

I gasped. “What’s happening?” I hated the unsteadiness of my voice.

“Just a power outage, I think,” Stephen’s voice was firm, cutting through my panic for a moment.

He tried the emergency button. “Hello? The elevator’s broken down. Can anyone hear me?”

The silence ensuing on the other end had my heartbeat skyrocketing.

The darkness around me seemed to stretch and grow while the space seemed to press in on me. Suddenly, my heart was in my throat.

“It’s just a technical glitch,” Stephen’s voice sounded again. “They’ll have it sorted in no time.” I could hear the certainty in his voice, as if he were trying to reassure me, but he sounded far away.

My back hit the elevator wall, and it was then I realized my breath had started to quicken, and I was shaking. Stephen’s voice had sounded drowned out because my breathing was so loud.

I knew exactly what was happening, but it didn’t help. The darkness suffocated me, as did the small space. It had been years since I had suffered a panic attack, but as the paralyzing wave of terror hit me, I recognized the monster from my childhood.

Suddenly, I was a girl, and my father was pushing me into a small, windowless room. His shout boomed through my head, “You’ll stay in there until you learn your place!” He’d slammed the door behind him, the key turning in the lock, and my panic had clawed through me.

“Please,” I begged, the words coming from my throat as if being dragged out of my airways. “Please. No.” I was back there, in that small room, unable to get enough air into my lungs.

A firm touch on my arm jolted me from my panic. “It’s okay, Lina. You’re okay.”

Stephen’s hand slipped into mine. Then he reached for my other hand. No, I’d grasped onto his other hand. I was squeezing both his hands as if they were the only thing keeping the darkness from taking me. Even in the pitch black, I reckoned my vision was already tunneling, just like it used to when I was thrown into that small room as a kid; whatever misdemeanor my father had to discipline me for, the punishment was always the same. This little room, where I inevitably passed out in.

The panic slashed through me, taunting me that it wouldn’t let me out of its clutches.

Stephen squeezed my hands right back, and although the warmth of his touch shouldn’t be comforting… it was. The familiarity of his scent, earthy and spicy, swirled around me, grounding me, and his gentle, commanding tone found me,

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