Chapter 3 The Don's rule

Zayd never let himself hesitate.

Not in business. Not in war. Not in blood.

But since the girl arrived, hesitation had become a ghost trailing his every step.

He sat alone in his underground vault-a massive room of silence where most of his enemies had begged for mercy. A place filled with secrets and shadows.

Tonight, it echoed with nothing but her voice.

"Every man has a weakness."

She didn't realise what she had done. She'd stepped on a landmine and kept walking.

---

Alina paced the golden room like a lioness in heat.

Not with a desire for freedom.

Every step reminded her she was alive, that her limbs weren't broken, that her will hadn't cracked. Yet.

She wore the dress. She looked like she belonged to this world of money and murder-but her mind was already clawing at every door, testing every lock.

She wasn't staying.

No matter how much her body reacted to him.

His voice.

His control.

His silence.

The way he never touched her without intent, like every gesture was premeditated. Like a king claiming space.

And it terrified her.

Because part of her wanted to be claimed.

No.

Not now.

Focus.

She turned to the mirror. Her reflection stared back with rage, but behind the fire, there was something worse: curiosity.

What had made Zayd this way?

What turned a man into a ghost in human skin?

And what would happen... if she were the first woman to pull him out of the dark?

---

The next morning, sunlight broke through the massive window panels. Alina had no sense of time, but her body knew-it had barely rested.

The door opened.

This time, no Amir.

Zayd.

In a crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone. Clean-shaven. Fresh, but dangerous. His presence was louder than any scream.

"You slept well?"

"You don't get to ask questions."

He smirked. "But I always get answers."

"I'm not your employee."

"No," he stepped closer, "you're my guest."

Alina's eyes rolled. "Hostages don't get breakfast and red silk."

Zayd tilted his head. "You're not ready to hear the truth."

"Try me."

He poured himself a glass of water from the carafe on the table, drank slowly, then said:

"You weren't kidnapped."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You were taken out of a situation you didn't know would kill you."

Alina's voice dropped. "That night. The men at the bar. They were looking for someone?"

"They were looking for you."

"What? Why?"

Zayd's eyes darkened. "Because your father made a deal with the wrong people."

"My father's dead."

"No," he said, slowly. "Your stepfather is dead. Your real father is alive. And very powerful."

Alina staggered backwards. "That's a lie."

Zayd's voice was steady. "He runs a shadow syndicate that operates across the Gulf. And the moment he found out you were alive... people started dying."

Alina's breath shook. "What does that have to do with you?"

"I owed him once. A favour. This was it."

"You don't do us any favours."

Zayd stepped closer. "Not for most. But your father... he's the only man who ever beat me in something that mattered."

Her stomach dropped. "Why didn't he raise me? Where is he now?"

"That's for later. First," Zayd leaned down, brushing past her ear, "you play by my rules."

"What are your rules?"

He smiled darkly. "Don't run. Don't lie. And never touch what's mine."

Alina shoved him. "I'm not yours."

Zayd caught her wrist midair and twisted, gently but firmly, pinning her to the wall.

He stared into her eyes, the air electric.

"Then stop acting like you want to be."

She slapped him.

The sound echoed through the room.

Zayd didn't flinch.

But something flickered in his eyes-pleasure? Amusement? Hunger?

He dropped her wrist and stepped back.

"That was brave," he said. "And stupid."

Alina's chest heaved.

"Send me back."

Zayd didn't answer. He turned and left, locking the door again.

---

That afternoon, Amir returned with a phone.

"Your father wants to speak."

Alina stared at the device like it might explode.

She took it.

A voice came through. Deep. Calm. Older.

"Alina."

She froze.

"I know you have questions. I can't answer them all now. But you're safe with Zayd. I trust him."

"You left me," she whispered.

"I saved you the only way I could. I've lived in hell, so you wouldn't have to."

"You think this is heaven?"

"No. But it's not war. Not yet."

"Then come get me."

"Soon. Let Zayd keep you until I deal with the enemies circling."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Because you have my blood. And my enemies know that too."

The line went dead.

Alina stared at the phone. Numb. Shaken. Furious.

---

Meanwhile, in the training yard, Zayd watched his men spar.

Amir approached. "She made the call."

Zayd nodded. "And?"

"She didn't cry. She didn't beg."

Zayd smirked. "Told you she's on fire."

"You're getting distracted."

"I'm focused."

"On her."

Zayd turned, eyes cold. "She's not just a girl. She's a game-changer. And if I don't protect her, her blood's on my hands."

"Or your bed."

Zayd chuckled. "Let's see what she chooses."

---

That night, Alina snuck out of the room.

The door wasn't locked this time.

She padded silently down the corridor, remembering the turns Amir took, the sounds, the smell of cigar smoke.

She found the library. Empty.

The mansion was quiet. Too quiet.

She pushed open the side door and slipped out into the moonlight, her heart racing. The back garden sprawled like a royal maze, the gate far off in the distance.

She started running barefoot across the marble pathway-past rose bushes, down stone steps-only to crash straight into something solid.

Zayd.

His arms wrapped around her waist mid-sprint.

"I told you not to run."

She tried to fight, kicking, punching, desperate. "Let me go!"

Zayd lifted her effortlessly off the ground and marched back inside.

She thrashed like a wild animal. "Put me down!"

He slammed the bedroom door shut behind him and dropped her onto the bed.

Alina jumped up, breathless. "You're insane!"

"No," Zayd growled, "I'm done playing nice."

His chest rose and fell with restrained fury. "You want answers? Fine. You'll get them. But try that again and I'll chain you to this room."

Alina glared at him. "Do it. I dare you."

They stood there, inches apart, the air crackling.

Zayd's voice lowered, raw. "You make me forget who I am."

"And who are you, Zayd?"

He moved even closer. "A monster. The kind your father warned you about. The kind who doesn't play with dolls-he burns them."

Alina's heart raced.

He didn't touch her.

But his eyes stripped her bare.

Then he turned, walked to the door, and paused.

"You'll sleep now. You'll eat tomorrow. And when you wake up, you'll find out what it means to be Caged in Gold."

The door closed.

But her pulse didn't calm for hours.