Trapped in a Frozen Elevator With the Ruthless CEO Who Fired Me—Until the Lights Died and His Darkest Secret Spilled Out

The roof of the elevator car was a treacherous expanse of corrugated steel, slick with a treacherous glaze of ice and dusted with powdered concrete.

Hazel stood on Adrien’s shoulders, her boots finding purchase on his broad, steady frame. He pushed upward with every ounce of strength remaining in his legs, letting out a guttural roar of effort as he lifted her through the buckled emergency hatch.

Hazel’s gloved hands caught the lip of the ceiling opening. The freezing draft hit her face like a physical slap, stealing the breath from her lungs. The wind inside the vertical shaft was howling like a choir of banshees, rushing upward through the elevator core as if drawn by a massive vacuum.

""I've got the rim!"" she shouted down into the darkness.

""Use the cable housing for leverage!"" Adrien called back, his voice strained and tight. ""Do not look down, Hazel! Whatever you do, look only at the ladder!""

Hazel hauled herself through the twisted opening, scraping her ribs against the jagged aluminum frame. She collapsed onto her stomach on the roof of the car, gasping for air. The cold up here was terrifying—sub-zero air screaming through the gaps in the external masonry, carrying freezing rain that turned to slick black ice the second it touched the metal.

She looked up. Ten feet above her, illuminated by the distant, pale emergency lights of the fourteenth-floor landing, was the iron maintenance ladder. Between her and the ladder was a four-foot gap of empty, terrifying space.

Beneath the car, another cable strand snapped with a sickening, high-pitched ping. The elevator shuddered violently, dropping half an inch.

""Hazel!"" Adrien's voice echoed through the hatch. ""The main cable is unraveling! You have less than two minutes!""

She didn't allow herself to think. If she thought, she would freeze, and if she froze, they were dead.

She scrambled to her feet on the icy roof, keeping her center of gravity low. She took two sliding steps across the corrugated steel, coiled her legs, and leaped across the four-foot abyss toward the maintenance ladder.

Her right hand slammed into the iron rung. The metal was so cold it burned straight through her glove like molten lead. Her left boot slipped off the wall, dangling in the dark void below. For one horrifying second, her entire body weight hung from four fingers on her right hand, her shoulder screaming in agony as the joint was pulled nearly to the point of dislocation.

Like you, kid. Tough on the outside. Lives forever.

Her father's voice cut through the howling wind with crystalline clarity.

Hazel swung her left leg inward, slamming her boot against the concrete riser until her toe caught the lower rung. She brought her left hand up, gripping the iron with both fists, gasping for air that felt like broken glass in her throat.

She began to climb. One rung. Two rungs. Three rungs.

Every muscle in her back burned. Her fingers were rapidly losing all sensation, turning into numb wooden blocks. But she kept moving, pulling herself upward through the howling white darkness until her eyes were level with the small steel landing platform of the fourteenth floor.

She rolled onto the grated metal walkway, her chest heaving violently.

There, mounted on the heavy structural column beside the elevator shaft, was the heavy red enclosure. Painted across the face in chipped yellow lettering were the words: EMERGENCY MANUAL BRAKE OVERRIDE — PULL TO ENGAGE.

The box was secured with a lead inspection seal. Hazel slammed her heel against the thin wire seal, snapping it instantly. She grabbed the heavy steel lever with both hands, throwing her entire body weight backward.

The lever didn't move. It had been untouched for fifteen years; the internal gears were frozen solid by the sub-zero draft.

""Come on!"" she screamed into the roaring dark, tears of pure rage freezing on her eyelashes. ""Move, you miserable piece of junk! Move!""