The Elevator TrapSetting: Office building elevator
The office was quiet that Friday evening. Most people had rushed off after the closing hour, eager for their weekend. But she—Amaka—had stayed back, finishing up reports and waiting for the Lagos traffic to thin out. He stepped into the elevator just as the doors were closing. A faint whiff of his cologne—woodsy and warm—drifted into her space. Their eyes met briefly. Tension sparked. Not the awkward kind, but the kind that tightens the air, makes breathing a little harder, and thoughts a little filthier. The elevator jolted slightly as it began its descent, then came to a sudden halt between floors. A soft curse escaped his lips. “No network,” she whispered, holding up her phone. “No CCTV either,” he muttered with a wicked grin, stepping just a bit closer. The silence grew heavy. Her pulse quickened. There was nowhere to go, nothing else to do. Just the two of them, the dim light, and that humming electricity dancing between their bodies. Without a word, he reached out, brushing a str...