Rules Of The Cage

The black screen stared back at Elena like a void.

The silence in the command center was deafening. The only sound was the frantic clicking of Damon’s keyboard and the blood roaring in Elena’s ears.

She shoved hard against Marcus’s chest, breaking out of his grip. The heat of his body had been suffocating, a stark contrast to the ice flowing through her veins.

"Twelve hours," she whispered, her voice cracking. She spun around to face him, her hands shaking. "We have twelve hours. How do we find her?"

Marcus’s face was a mask of stone. "We don't. You go to your room, you lock the door, and you let my team do their job."

"Your team?" Elena let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. She pointed at the blank monitors. "Your team just got hacked by a cartel boss, Marcus! They were inside your system. They are inside your fortress. I am not going to sit in a bedroom and knit while my mother is held at gunpoint!"

"Lower your voice," Marcus warned, stepping closer to her.

"No!" Elena shouted, her fear finally boiling over into sheer, blinding rage. "You told me to retract the statement. You said it would buy us time. But think about it! If I retract the statement, I am useless to them. I am no longer a threat. Why would they keep Karen alive? They won't. They'll kill her the second the ink dries on my retraction, and then they'll come for me."

She stopped, her chest heaving, waiting for him to yell back.

But Marcus didn't yell. He just stared at her. His grey eyes, which were usually so cold and empty, sharpened with something that looked almost like respect.

"You're right," he said quietly. "Retracting the statement buys us time, but it doesn't guarantee her survival."

Elena blinked, momentarily thrown off by his admission. "So what do we do?"

"We play a different game," Marcus said. He turned to Damon. "Get me a secure line to the District Attorney. I want an emergency injunction. We're not retracting the statement; we're moving the trial up. If we can get a grand jury indictment against Cortez before dawn, Karen's value as leverage drops. He won't kill a witness's mother if he's already been indicted. It would cause too much heat."

Damon nodded, his fingers flying across the keys.

Elena looked at Marcus, a flicker of hope igniting in her chest. It was a bold, reckless plan. It might actually work.

"There's a problem," Marcus said, turning back to her.

"Of course there is," Elena muttered.

"Because I don't know who the mole is in this building, I can't trust anyone else to guard you," Marcus said, his voice flat. "Damon is handling the tech, but I need someone watching your door. I need someone watching *you*."

"Fine. Assign a guard," Elena said.

"No," Marcus said, stepping so close she had to tilt her head back to look at him. "I am your personal shadow, Dr. Vasquez. I will not let you out of my sight. Not until Cortez is in the ground."

Elena’s stomach dropped. "Absolutely not. I don't need a babysitter."

"You don't have a choice," Marcus said, his voice hardening. He turned his back on her and walked toward the door of the command center. "I need to make some calls. Stay here where I can see you."

Elena stood frozen for a second, then followed him, her anger spiking. "I am not a dog you can just tell to heel, Marcus."

She followed him out into the hall and into the massive, sleek kitchen. The room was a masterpiece of white marble and stainless steel, but it felt cold and clinical.

"I need to call the police," Elena said, marching toward the kitchen island. "The cartel's reach might be deep, but the police can still help. They can protect Karen."

Marcus spun around, stopping right in front of her. "The police are compromised."

"You don't know that!"

"I know that," Marcus said, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. He stepped forward. Elena instinctively stepped back.

He kept coming.

Elena's back hit the edge of the kitchen island. She gasped, her hands flying back to grip the cold marble.

Marcus placed a hand on the island on either side of her hips, trapping her. His chest was inches from hers. She could smell the dark, masculine scent of cedar and gunpowder. Her heart was hammering so hard she was sure he could hear it.

"The police aren't going to save your mother, Elena," he said, his voice a low, rough rumble. He rarely used her first name. It sounded intimate and terrifying all at once. "They are either bought and paid for, or they are walking into a trap. If you call them, you get your mother killed."

Elena glared up at him. From this close, she could see the faint stubble on his jaw and the dark circles under his eyes. He looked exhausted. He looked dangerous.

"And what about you?" she whispered, refusing to back down. "Are you going to save her?"

"I'm going to use her as bait to draw Cortez out," Marcus said, his eyes dropping to her lips. "And then I'm going to kill him."

Elena’s breath caught in her throat. The ruthless honesty of his words sent a shiver down her spine. He wasn't hiding behind a shield of diplomacy. He was a predator, and he was finally showing her his teeth.

"Let go of me," she said, her voice shaking.

Marcus didn't move. His eyes lingered on her mouth for a fraction of a second too long, a dark, possessive heat flickering in his gaze.

"Are we clear on the rules, Doctor?" he asked softly.

Elena swallowed hard, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. She hated him. She hated how he made her feel small and safe and terrified all at once.

"We're clear," she bit out.

Before Marcus could respond, a loud, jarring buzz shattered the silence.

The intercom.

Both of them froze. Marcus’s eyes snapped to the door, his body immediately shifting from a man cornering a woman to a lethal weapon ready to strike. He pushed off the island, one hand reaching instinctively toward his hip, as if reaching for a weapon that wasn't there.

He walked to the security panel on the wall and pressed the speaker. "Identify yourself."

"This is the Chicago Police Department," a deep voice crackled through the speaker. "We are here to execute an arrest warrant. Open the door."

Elena's blood ran cold. "Arrest warrant? For who?"

Marcus didn't answer. He tapped a button, and the video feed of the lobby appeared on the small screen. Six uniformed officers stood in the hallway, their hands resting on their holstered weapons.

"Open the door," the voice repeated. "We have a warrant for the arrest of Dr. Elena Vasquez."

Elena stumbled back, the breath leaving her lungs. "Me? For what?"

Marcus turned to look at her, his face a mask of dark, dangerous fury. The buzzer rang again, more insistent this time.

"For the murder of Judge William Holloway," Marcus said quietly.

Elena grabbed the edge of the marble island, her knuckles turning white. "What? That's insane! I tried to save him! I—"

"The cartel is cleaning up loose ends, Doctor," Marcus interrupted. His voice was a deadly whisper. "They didn't just hack my system. They framed you. And if they get you in a police car, you'll be dead before you reach the station."

The doorbell rang again.

"Dr. Vasquez," the voice outside shouted. "Open this door, or we will break it down!"

Marcus looked at Elena. The tension between them was electric, heavy with the weight of the moment.

"Whatever happens next," Marcus said, his voice low and commanding, "you stay behind me. And whatever you do, don't say a word."

He turned and walked toward the door.

Elena stared at his back, trapped between a man who wanted to use her and the men who wanted to kill her.

***