Chapter 91 The Elevator
Emilia’s POV
Sebastian grabbed my wrist and pulled me back.
"I’m going up to the fifth floor," I said flatly, not bothering to turn around.
"You’re not taking the elevator?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied. Obviously.
"Then are you going to fly up?" he sneered.
I pointed to the left corner without looking back. "The stairs are over there. I can walk up."
He let out a short laugh. "You’re that full of energy, huh? You’d rather climb ten floors than stand in a box for thirty seconds?"
I lowered my head and gently pulled my hand free from his grip. "I’m used to it."
I didn’t wait for his response. I just walked toward the stairwell. Behind me, I heard him let out a frustrated breath, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t about to explain myself to Sebastian Simons, of all people.
But then I heard footsteps. Fast ones. Before I could reach the stairwell door, a hand clamped down on my shoulder and yanked me back.
"What the hell are you doing?" I snapped, spinning around.
His green eyes were fixed on me, and for a split second, I saw something in them I didn’t expect. Worry? Concern? No. That couldn’t be right. I couldn’t hear his thoughts, so I had no idea what was going on in that thick skull of his.
"Didn’t you say that as long as I deleted that recording, you’d do everything I said today?" he said, his voice low and commanding. "Well, now I want you to take the elevator with me."
I shook my head immediately. "No. I can do anything but that."
When I tried to turn back toward the stairs, he grabbed me again, this time by both shoulders.
"I don’t care," he said, his jaw tight. "You’re coming with me."
"Why can’t you just be considerate for once in your life? I hate taking the elevator, okay? Is that so hard to understand?"
He tilted his head, a faint smirk on his lips. "So it’s claustrophobia. Is that so terrible? Let me be your knight in shining armor for once."
I stared at him, dumbfounded. "Prince? You’re more like a troll who lives under a bridge."
"Funny," he said dryly. "Now come on."
He dragged me toward the elevator, and I dug my heels into the ground like a child refusing to go to the dentist. But he was stronger. Of course he was.
"Trust me. You can do it," he said, his tone suddenly serious.
I blinked. Those words caught me off guard. I had been so sure he was just playing another one of his cruel games, trying to humiliate me by watching me panic. But the way he said it sounded real.
"It won’t work," I said, shaking my head firmly. "I’ve tried so many times. Don’t bother."
"You were alone before," he said, his voice softer now. "But I’m here now. So just follow me. Failing once doesn’t mean you’ll always fail. I mean, come on. A tough cookie like you shouldn’t have any weaknesses."
I felt a lump form in my throat.
No one had ever said that to me. No one.
All my life, I had faced everything alone. My fears. My failures. My struggles. I had dealt with them in silence because no one cared enough to help. And now this jerk, this impossible, arrogant, insufferable jerk, was telling me I could do it because he was here.
The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding. He held out his hand.
I looked at his hand. Then at his face. Then back at his hand.
"You’re really not going to let this go, are you?"
"Nope."
I let out a long breath and took his hand. His palm was warm, and I felt a strange calm settle over me as his fingers wrapped around mine. No thoughts. No noise. Just quiet.
We stepped inside. I pressed the button for the fifth floor, and the doors closed slowly.
The familiar fear crept up on me like a shadow. My chest tightened. My palms went cold. My heart started pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
"Why did I agree to this?" I muttered.
"Because you’re smarter than your fear," he said.
The elevator started to rise, and my stomach lurched. I felt my face drain of color. My hands started shaking, and my breathing became shallow and ragged.
Sebastian saw it all. Without saying a word, he pulled me into his arms and pressed my face against his chest. I could hear his heartbeat. Steady. Calm. Strong.
"Don’t be afraid," he said softly. "Just relax. Breathe."
I closed my eyes tightly and focused on his heartbeat. Thump thump. Thump thump. The panic didn’t disappear, but it dulled. Like someone had turned down the volume on my terror.
"I feel like I’m going to die," I whispered.
"That’s ridiculous," he said. "Just hold on a little longer."
The elevator dinged. Fifth floor.
I practically launched myself out the moment the doors opened. I stumbled into the hallway and bent over with my hands on my knees. I gagged as my stomach churned violently.
Sebastian appeared beside me, holding out a handkerchief. "Let’s do it again."