Chapter 501
Chapter 501:
Lucian reacted instinctively, catching her before she hit the floor. “Skye p>
He wrapped his arms around her to support her, his attention entirely focused on her face.
“Hold me,” she murmured, letting her head loll against his shoulder.
Her right hand, hidden by his body as he held her up, slipped into his jacket pocket.
She felt the cold metal of his phone. She gripped it.
“I’ve got you,” Lucian said, shifting his weight to prop her up.
Skye pulled the phone out. With her face buried in his chest, she thumbed the side buttons blindly—the emergency SOS sequence.
A loud, piercing siren began to wail from her hand.
Lucian jumped back, startled by the noise emanating from between them. “What the hell p>
Skye dropped the phone to the floor as if she were too weak to hold it. “It’s… it’s the alarm p>
She pointed at the elevator panel. “The fire alarm p>
The elevator shuddered as the emergency protocol kicked in. It stopped at the nearest floor—the twentieth. The doors slid open.
“Stay here,” Lucian ordered, confused by the sound but distracted by the flashing lights on the panel. “I’ll check the panel p>
Skye didn’t stay.
The moment he turned his head, the “fainting” spell vanished. She shoved him hard, knocking him off balance, and sprinted out of the elevator.
“Skye!” Lucian roared.
She threw the screaming phone down the hallway to distract him and turned toward the service stairwell.
She checked her watch. 11:58 PM.
She was on the twentieth floor. She needed to be at Sub-Level 3.
Twenty-three floors down. Two minutes.
It was impossible to run that fast.
But she didn’t need to run.
She yanked open the door to the laundry chute.
No 𝘮𝗶𝘴s𝘪𝗻𝘨 𝗰𝗁ар𝘵е𝗿s o𝘯 b𝖾.𝖼𝘰𝘮
Skye stared into the dark abyss of the laundry chute. It was a vertical tunnel of stainless steel, smelling of bleach and dirty linens. It wasn’t a straight drop—the modern hotel design used a spiral gravity chute to slow the descent of heavy linen bags and prevent damage.
It was still madness. But it was her only path.
She heard Lucian’s footsteps pounding down the hall. “Skye p>
She didn’t hesitate. She grabbed a discarded towel from a cart, wrapped it around her arms to protect against friction burns, and jumped.
The slide was disorienting and violent. She spun through the metal coil, the centrifugal force pinning her against the steel walls. Friction burned through the towel, heating her skin, but the spiral slowed her velocity just enough. Round and round she went, a dizzying descent into the bowels of the building.
She saw the exit flap for the lower laundry sorting room approaching. She braced herself.
She shot out of the chute, landing in a massive, spring-loaded canvas cart filled with sheets.
It wasn’t a soft landing. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she bit her tongue, tasting copper.
Skye gasped, rolling off the mountain of sheets, coughing.
She was in the laundry room. Sub-Level 2.
She checked her watch. 11:59 PM.
She scrambled to her feet. Her dress was torn, her hair a mess, but she was alive.
She ran to the service stairs. One flight down.