Chapter 3 The Devil's Cage

The walls of Rafael DeLuca's mansion seemed to be closing in on her.

Valeria froze in the marble-floored foyer, her heart a caged bird thrashing wildly against its ribbed prison.

The air was rich with luxury - expensive cigars, aged whiskey and something darker, something that was all his.

Her captor. Her husband.

Rafael hadn't made a single move from where he stood, hands in his pockets, surveying her like a predator hunting its meal.

"Matteo," he said slowly, after a moment of silence, "take my bride to her room."

His room. His prison.

Valeria's spine stiffened. "I'm not your bride," she spat at him, her voice shaky despite her best effort.

Rafael chuckled. "Oh, querida, you are. Whether you like it or not."

His tone did something to her blood, boiled it.

This was a game to him. A twisted, cruel amusement.

She started to protest but there was Matteo, right next to her, his grip on her arm firm but surprisingly gentle.

"Come," he murmured, the timbre of his voice softer than Rafael's but with an undertone of caution nonetheless.

Valeria had no option but to follow.

The Gilded Cage

Matteo guided her through a maze of hallways, past sparkling chandeliers and gold-framed walls.

The further they descended, the more rigid the knowing felt.

She wasn't in any Rafael DeLuca's home. She was in his world.

And finally they stopped before huge mahogany doors. Matteo shoved them open to reveal a bedroom so opulent it would not have been out of place in a palace.

A king-size bed with silk sheets dominated the room. French doors opened onto a balcony that overlooked a large courtyard.

It was breathtaking.

It was a cage.

She glanced at Matteo, her throat constricted. "What happens now?"

Matteo didn't answer. He just gave her a slight nod before taking a step backward and closing the door behind him.

A lock clicked into place.

Valeria breathed unevenly, pinching her fingertips against her temples.

Her father had sold her. Her sister had framed her. And now she was the property of the most dangerous man in Mexico.

Her legs buckled, and she went down onto the bed.

Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall.

She wouldn't break.

Not yet.

Not in front of him.

Dinner with the Devil

It would be hours before the doors reopened.

This time, it wasn't Matteo.

It was him.

Rafael entered unannounced, eyes shining with something éclant, a glass of red in one hand.

He was holding a tray. Dinner.

She stared at it as though it were poison. "Are you hoping that I'll be grateful?"

He smirked. "No, but I do expect you to eat."

His stomach protested in betrayal, but he turned a deaf ear.

Instead she raised her chin, defiantly. "If you imagine I'm going to sit and have dinner with you like some obedient wife, you're mistaken."

Rafael's smirk didn't falter.

Then, for no reason, he snatched up the tray and swept an arm across it, dumping the whole meal in a crash on the floor.

Valeria jumped.

He stepped closer, voice treacherously low. "Do not confuse my patience with weakness, Valeria."

Her pulse pounded.

"Eat," he continued. "Or I'll feed you myself."

There was something in his voice that sent a shiver through her.

This man was unpredictable. He might slay her in an instant - or crush her with unwanted tenderness.

Neither option was safe.

After swallowing hard, she picked up the fork and, her movements slow and deliberate, took a bite.

Rafael stared at her with an intensity that made her skin prickle.

"Good girl," he murmured.

She nearly choked on the food.

She gritted her teeth beneath the table.

She hated him.

Loathed how effortlessly he manipulated everything. Hated that he could make her heart stutter in fear - or something worse.

She needed to escape.

And soon.

The Escape Attempt

That evening, waiting to be sure the house had settled into silence, Valeria made her move.

She tiptoed to the balcony doors and jiggled the handle.

Unlocked.

Hope flickered in her chest.

She opened the door and stepped outside, peering over the courtyard below. It was a long way down, but vines crept up the side of the building. If she could just-

Two strong arms suddenly encircled her waist.

Gasped when she got jerked backward and slammed into a hard, unyielding chest.

She felt warm breath on her ear.

"Going somewhere, mi amor?"

Rafael.

Her heart thundered.

How had he been close enough to catch her so quickly? She hadn't even noticed he'd come into the room.

"Get off me," she said, squirming.

His grip tightened. "If you want to jump, then jump. His voice was low, mocking. "But I wonder... how far would you run before my men tracked you down?"

Fear coiled in her stomach.

She knew the answer.

She wouldn't get far at all.

He turned her in his arms, making her meet his gaze. "I will give you one warning, Valeria." His voice was deceptively gentle, but his hold on her wrist was ironclad.

"If you run again ..." His lips brushed her ear. "I will chain you to my bed."

Her breath caught.

It was a thrеat, piqued with somеthing that was darkеr, something dangers.

And for the first time, Valeria understood the truth.

Where wasn't she stuck in Rafael's house.

She was stuck into his game.

And if she didn't take care, she wouldn't make it through.

What will Rafael decide next? Can Valeria actually free herself from his clutches?