The elevator ride felt too smooth, too silent, too insulated from the world I’d just abandoned. I stood beside Ray, keeping a careful inch of space between us, though it didn’t matter. His presence filled the small metal box the same way it filled my apartment—quietly, completely, leaving no air untouched by him.
He didn’t look at me. He didn’t have to. I could feel him watching in the reflection of the elevator’s mirrored interior. The faintest tilt of his head, the subtle shift of his posture—he studied me like he was memorizing every twitch, every tremor.
Still, he didn’t speak. Not until the elevator doors slid open to reveal a hallway that looked nothing like what I’d expected from a mafia leader’s home.
It wasn’t dark or stuffy or lined with guards.
It was warm.
Soft amber light
