The hallway outside the conference room was chaos—phones ringing, staff running, reporters already swarming the front entrance—but inside the elevator, it was dead silent.
Too silent.
Rian didn't let go of Lian's hand once. Not when the manager barked orders, not when the security team rushed them through the back corridor, not even when they stepped out into the underground parking lot where black vans waited like armored beasts.
He didn't release him until the van door slid open.
"Both of you, inside," the manager snapped, voice too sharp to be normal. She was stressed—everyone was—but Lian felt a pang of guilt anyway.
They climbed in first.
Rian slid into the seat beside Lian automatically, protective, instinctive. Their thighs touched. Even with the tension twisting the air, that small point of contact made Lian breathe a little easier.
