Her brows knit together.
"Do something!"
Ivy, momentarily taken aback by his tone, recovered quickly. She pulled out her phone, the dim glow lighting up her face in the pitch darkness. She dialed Reese, her fingers steady.
"Reese? Yeah—it's Ivy. We're stuck in the elevator on the VIP side. Inform reception. Get maintenance on it now." She hung up and glanced at Winn. His chest was rising a little too fast, his gaze fixed on the closed doors.
He was sweating—beads sliding down the hard line of his jaw. His breaths were shallow. The confident titan of House of Kane had vanished, replaced by a man stripped bare in his fear.
"Mr. Kane?" Ivy stepped forward, uncertain whether to cross the invisible line between employer and employee. "Are you okay?"
