Inside The Cage

Thaddeus’s POV

The heavy oak door of Unit 804 clicked shut, cutting off the soft scent of vanilla that followed Kimmy out into the carpeted corridor.

I stood in the dark foyer, motionless, letting my breath settle.

I reached up, unbuttoning the top two buttons of my collar, and unclipped the silver watch from my wrist. I set it on the marble side table with a faint, metallic clink.

In the living room, four oversized LED screens glowed against the shadow-draped walls.

I walked over to the desk, poured two fingers of bourbon into a crystal glass, and let the liquid burn down my throat. My gaze remained locked on the monitor on the far left—Feed 802-A.

On the screen, Kimmy was leaning against her locked front door. She looked small against the vast, empty space of her new living room, her cheeks still faintly flushed from the dinner downstairs. She checked her phone screen, saw the empty notification bar, and let out a soft, relieved breath before setting it down.

She thought she was safe. She thought the silence meant the nightmare was over.

A low, dark laugh hummed in my chest.

My sweet, foolish little bird.

She had no idea that the silent room she was standing in was entirely mine. Every camera hidden in the smoke detectors, every smart lock synced to her door, every piece of light streaming through her high-rise windows—I bought it all. I personally authorized the drop in lease price on the estate agent’s portal thirty minutes before her friend found it.

I built the cage, laid the breadcrumbs, and watched her walk straight into my hands.

"Boss."

Marcus’s dark, towering silhouette stepped out from the adjacent study, holding a secure tablet.

"Speak," I murmured, keeping my eyes fixed on the screen as Kimmy walked into her kitchen.

"Ethan’s men tried to shadow her near her photo studio this morning," Marcus reported smoothly. "Enforcer named Leo. He tried to pressure her into returning to the penthouse."

My grip tightened on the crystal glass until my knuckles turned white. The bourbon inside sloshed against the rim.

"Where is Leo now?" my voice dropped an octave, smooth and icy.

"Handled," Marcus replied without a beat. "We intercepted his vehicle three blocks from the studio. He’s currently in the basement of the warehouse down at the docks. He won't be speaking to Ethan—or anyone else—again."

"Good." I took another slow sip. "Ethan Crew is getting sloppy. He thinks because his syndicate controls the eastern docks, he can let his dogs roam onto my territory and corner what belongs to me."

"Should we strike his main compound?"

"Not yet," I said softly, my dark eyes following Kimmy as she tied her hair into a messy bun on screen. "Ethan is useful for now. As long as she believes she’s running away from his chaos, she will keep running straight into my protection."

I put the glass down and stepped closer to the primary monitor, resting my fingers against the cool glass frame right over her reflection.

Two years ago, I was bleeding out in that dark, foul alley behind her ex-boyfriend's warehouse. My father's men had set me up with Ethan’s gang, trying to ensure I never took control of the Obsidian Order. I had my gun drawn, ready to take as many of them down with me as I could before I closed my eyes for good.

And then she appeared.

A girl with a camera slung over her shoulder and no business being in a war zone. She didn't scream. She didn't run. She dragged my heavy frame behind those crates, pressed her soft hands over my gushing wound, and kept me tethered to this earth.

She didn't see my face in the shadows that night. But I saw hers. The streetlamp caught the tear on her cheek and the fierce, beautiful determination in her eyes.

She saved my life. And ever since that night, my soul was ripped out of my chest and bound to hers.

I tracked her down. I watched Ethan treat her like a trophy, ignoring her distress, dragging his bloody business into her home, letting her drown in fear while he played mob boss. I watched her suffer for two whole years until I couldn't take it anymore.

So, I stepped in. I gave her just enough terror through those anonymous messages to break her patience, to shatter her bond with Ethan, and to force her to run.

And now, she was sitting right across the hall.

I picked up the burner phone sitting beside the monitors. The screen was dark. I had purposely suppressed the automated delivery scripts today to give her a false sense of peace—to make her associate The Obsidian Tower, and me, with safety.

Sitting across from her at dinner tonight, listening to her offer me a modeling spot behind her camera, had tested every ounce of my control. The way her bright brown eyes looked into mine, completely oblivious to who I was, sent a surge of possessive fire straight through my veins.

She wanted me behind her lens. She wanted to capture me.

She had no idea I had already captured her.

"Marcus," I called out, my voice dangerous and low.

"Sir?"

"Set up a secure meeting with her agency tomorrow morning under our shell corporation," I instructed, my eyes locked on the monitor as Kimmy picked up her camera to inspect the lens. "If my girl needs a male model for her cover shoot... I'm going to make sure she doesn't have a choice but to use me."

"Understood, boss." Marcus bowed his head and stepped back into the shadows.

I stood alone in the dark study, watching her move through her living room on the screen. The quiet, peaceful air of her new life was an illusion I had crafted just for her. She was mine now. Safe from Ethan, safe from the world, tucked away right under my skin.

I opened the encrypted messaging app on the burner phone. My thumb hovered over the keypad.

I shouldn't push her tonight. I should let her sleep. I should let her believe her new neighbor brought her luck.

But I couldn't resist.

I typed out a short message, hit send, and watched the live feed.

Across the hall, on the glowing screen of Feed 802-A, Kimmy was walking toward her bedroom when her phone on the kitchen island suddenly buzzed, its screen lighting up in the dark room.

She froze. I watched her body go completely rigid, her head snapping around toward the light of the device.

On my screen, the sent notification turned blue. She picked it up with a trembling hand, reading the words I had just delivered straight to her palm.

Unknown: You looked so gorgeous at dinner tonight, ma petite. I see you've found a handsome distraction... but he won't save you from me.

A slow, unhinged smile curled across my lips in the dark room.

She would panic. She would feel terrified, helpless, and completely exposed. And tomorrow morning, when she stepped out into that hallway, she would run straight into the arms of the handsome, gentle neighbor who was going to protect her from the very monster holding the remote.