Chapter 4 THE CAGE

I didn't sleep that night.

I sat on my bed, staring at the single suitcase I was allowed to bring, and tried to figure out where everything had gone so wrong.

Twenty-four hours ago, I was a nursing student. Broke, exhausted, but free.

Now, I was being shipped off to a billionaire's estate like a package.

My phone buzzed.

Lila: girl WHERE are you??? you didn't show up to clinical and Dr. Harris is PISSED

I stared at the message, my throat tight.

Me: Family emergency. I'll explain later.

Lila: are you okay???

No.

Me: Yeah. I'm fine.

The lie tasted bitter.

Another buzz.

Unknown Number: The car will arrive at 8pm. Be ready. -DS

I threw my phone across the room.

It hit the wall and clattered to the floor, screen cracked but still glowing.

Dominic Sterling.

Dad's oldest friend.

The man who kissed me like he wanted to devour me.

The man who now owned me.

I pulled my knees to my chest and tried to breathe.

---

The car arrived exactly at 8pm.

A sleek black SUV with tinted windows. The driver was a man in his forties, stone-faced and silent. He took my suitcase without a word and opened the back door.

I looked back at the apartment.

My father stood in the doorway, his face pale.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he called. "I'm so sorry."

I didn't answer.

I got in the car.

The door closed with a heavy bang, sealing me in leather and silence. The driver pulled away from the curb, and I watched my father disappear in the side mirror.

The drive took two hours.

Long enough for the city lights to fade.

Long enough for the buildings to give way to trees.

Long enough for me to realize I was leaving behind everything I knew.

The estate appeared like something out of a dream.

Or a nightmare.

Tall iron gates. A sprawling mansion of white stone and glass. Manicured lawns that stretched into darkness.

And security.

So much security.

Cameras on every corner. Guards at the gate. Motion sensors blinking red in the hedges.

The driver stopped at the front entrance.

A woman in a crisp grey suit opened my door. She was older, fifties maybe, with sharp eyes and a polite smile that didn't reach them.

"Miss Vance," she said. "Welcome. I'm Helen, Mr. Sterling's head of staff. If you'll follow me."

I stepped out of the car, and the scale of the place hit me.

This wasn't a house.

It was a fortress.

Helen led me through the foyer, our footsteps echoing on marble floors. Everything was pristine. Cold. Beautiful in the way a museum is beautiful.

Untouchable.

"Mr. Sterling is in a meeting," Helen said as we climbed a grand staircase. "He'll join you for dinner at nine."

"I'm not hungry."

"Nevertheless," she replied smoothly, "dinner is at nine."

She stopped at a door on the second floor and pushed it open.

"Your room."

I stepped inside.

It was huge.

A four-poster bed. A sitting area with a fireplace. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the grounds.

A cage dressed in silk and gold.

"The ensuite is through there," Helen said, gesturing. "Your belongings will be brought up shortly. If you need anything, press the call button on the wall."

"What if I want to leave?"

Helen's smile tightened. "Mr. Sterling's instructions are clear dear. You're not to leave the estate without his approval."

"So I'm a prisoner."

"You're a guest," Helen corrected. "A very protected guest."

She left before I could respond.

I stood in the middle of the room, my hands shaking.

A guest.

Right.

I walked to the window and pressed my palm against the glass.

Beyond the lawn, I could see the gate.

The guards.

The cameras.

I was trapped.

---

Dinner was exactly as uncomfortable as I expected.

The dining room was massive, the table long enough to seat twenty. Dominic sat at the head, and I was placed to his right.

Close enough to touch.

I didn't.

He watched me as I picked at my food, his expression unreadable.

"You didn't eat much," he observed.

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat, Aria."

"Don't tell me what to do."

His jaw tightened. "I'm trying to take care of you."

"You're trying to control me," I shot back. "There's a difference."

Silence.

He set down his fork, and the clink of metal on porcelain echoed.

"You're angry," he said.

"Of course I'm angry."

"At me? Or at your father?"

I glared at him. "Both."

Dominic leaned back in his chair, studying me. "You could have said no."

"And let my father die?"

"Some might consider that a fair trade."

The cruelty of it stole my breath.

"You're a monster," I whispered.

"Yes," he agreed. "But I'm your monster now."

He stood, and I tensed.

But he only walked to my chair, leaning down until his mouth was beside my ear.

"Get used to it, Aria," he murmured. "Because you're not leaving."

His hand brushed my shoulder.

A brand.

And then he was gone, leaving me alone in the massive room.

I sat there for a long time, staring at the untouched food on my plate.

And I realized something that made my blood run cold.

I wasn't just trapped in his house.

I was trapped in his world.

And there was no way out.

---