Chapter five: the golden cage

Aria's pov

I ran my fingers along the velvet box in my hand as I walked down the long marble corridor of the Moretti estate. The collar inside felt heavier than gold, even though I’d slammed the lid shut the moment Nero gave it to me. It pulsed like a curse.

What kind of man gives his fiancée a collar as a welcome gift?

A Don.

A Dom.

I shook the thought away.

I needed to find a way out. A crack in this palace of glass and iron. No contract—mafia or not—could hold me if I disappeared before the wedding.

I’d make him regret ever pulling me into this twisted game.

The east wing was bigger than I expected with intricate desgns, quiet, suffocating. High archways and crystal fixtures. A queen’s prison.

I turned a corner and found myself in front of double doors carved with vines and roses. My room.

I pushed inside.

It was beautiful.

And disgusting.

Cream silk sheets. Floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the cliffs and sea below. The closet doors were already open and what hung there made my breath hitch.

Dresses.

Designer. My size.

And at the center... the wedding gown.

No.

I stepped closer, heart pounding. My fingers brushed the fabric, rich ivory satin, delicate lace. Exquisite. Trapping.

A small note dangled from the hanger, handwritten in precise black ink.

“For my bride. You’ll be beautiful kneeling at the altar.”

Rage boiled low in my gut.

As if I would wear this for him. As if this nightmare could be dressed in silk and called a dream.

I yanked the note off and crumpled it, tossing it aside.

He expected me to play my part. To smile in public, spread my legs in private, and tie myself willingly to the devil himself.

Not a chance.

I spun on my heel and began inspecting the room. Every window, every corner. I tested the glass, thick. Bulletproof, no doubt. No fire escape. No balconies.

A soft knock interrupted me.

I stilled.

“Enter,” I called.

A maid poked her head in. Pretty. Dark hair. Nervous eyes.

“Signorina,” she said softly. “Your bath is ready. I was told to deliver this.”

She stepped in, holding a small velvet pouch.

I frowned. “What is it?”

She hesitated. “A bracelet.”

I took it.

A thin chain of white gold. Delicate. Beautiful.

Until I turned it over and saw the faint glint of embedded tech.

A tracker.

I smiled coldly.

“Tell him I said thank you,” I said sweetly.

The maid blushed, bobbed her head, and fled.

I shut the door behind her and pressed my back to it.

So he thought of everything.

Of course he did.

But tech could be hacked. Removed. If I could get this bracelet off, find a blind spot in the security system, maybe slip out at night—

The thought ignited something wild in me. Freedom. I could do this.

I walked to the massive walk-in closet, opened the hidden drawer beneath the shoe rack, thank God, just as I guessed.

A control panel.

I grinned.

Too easy.

I scanned the screen for camera feeds. Hallways. Exits. Guards.

I memorized the patterns.

West wing, second floor. Less guarded after midnight. Service elevator.

My heart raced.

There it was. My way out.

I grabbed my phone but it was dead. No service. No apps. Nero's doing.

No matter. I’d play his game until the lights went out tonight. Then I’d slip away like a ghost.

I shoved the bracelet deep into the drawer.

He wouldn’t control me.

Not today.

I turned to leave—

And froze.

He was there.

Leaning casually against the doorframe. Black tailored suit. Watchful eyes.

Nero.

I swallowed hard.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” His voice was a low, amused threat. “Nice try, little fox.”

My stomach turned.

The cameras. He’d been watching.

Of course.

He pushed off the frame and stepped inside. Slowly. Like a predator giving its prey a head start for sport.

“Plotting escape already?” he murmured. “And here I thought you’d enjoy the view a little longer.”

My heart hammered. “You can’t keep me here.”

“Can’t I?” He smiled lazily. “I gave you freedom that night, remember? And you crawled for me. How quickly you forget.”

“That was different.”

“Was it?” He circled me, close enough for his scent—leather and spice—to fill my head. “You like pretending this is all against your will. But your body tells the truth.”

I turned sharply, defiant. “You must have drugged me that night.”

He chuckled darkly. “No drugs. No tricks. Just pure, unfiltered desire. Yours.”

He stopped behind me, breath against my ear.

“I could make you beg right now,” he whispered. “But where’s the fun in that? Watching you struggle is so much more entertaining.”

I tensed, refusing to give him the satisfaction of fear.

“I’ll find a way out,” I said softly. “One way or another.”

His hand brushed my hair back, fingers warm against my neck.

“I hope you try, cara mia. Hunt me. Run. Fight. It only makes breaking you sweeter.”

I spun to face him. “I’ll destroy this union.”

His eyes darkened. “No, Aria. You’ll fulfill it. You’ll walk down that aisle in silk and chains. And when you kneel before me... you’ll thank me for it.”

I slapped him.

Or tried.

His hand shot up, catching my wrist mid-air. Iron grip. Immoveable.

He smiled.

“Good,” he murmured. “Defiant. Just how I like you.”

He released me and stepped back.

“Oh... and your escape plan?” He gestured toward the control panel drawer. “Charming. But this entire estate is mine. Every camera. Every lock. Every door. There is no exit I don’t see. No corner I don’t have eyes on.”

The floor felt like quicksand beneath my feet.

“You forget something,” he said softly.

“What’s that?”

His smile cut like a blade.

“You’re already mine.”

I stared at him, heart pounding, as he turned and walked to the door.

“Oh, and cara mia…” he paused, hand on the handle. “Midnight won’t help you. The guards change shift at two. You would’ve been caught before you reached the gate. But I appreciate the effort.”

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

“Sleep well. Tomorrow, we plan the wedding.”

The door shut behind him.

I stood frozen.

Fury burned in my chest. Humiliation. And... something else. Something hot and wrong and terrifying.

Desire.

I shook it off.

I’d find another way.

I had to.

But deep down... I knew the truth.

He was always two steps ahead.

And the worst part?

Part of me loved the chase.