THE GILDED CAGE

The bag came off with a rough yank that tore a few strands of my hair out.

Blinding light hit me like a physical punch. I blinked hard, tears stinging my eyes, trying to make my blurry vision cooperate.

I wasn't in some creepy, concrete basement. I was sitting in a massive, ridiculously expensive bedroom. Gold trim everywhere. A giant crystal chandelier. It looked like a museum.

My hands were tied tight behind my back with rough twine that bit into my skin every time I moved.

"She’s awake, Boss," a heavy voice rumbled from the side.

I looked over. It was the giant guy from the alley. His jaw was already swollen and turning a nasty purple. Good. My elbow did that.

"Leave us," another voice said.

A shadow moved from the corner of the room. Lorenzo De Luca stepped into the light. His suit jacket was gone, and his white shirt sleeves were rolled up, showing dark tattoos running all the way down his arms. He didn't look mad. He looked completely blank. Like a doctor looking at an X-ray.

He walked over and stopped right in front of me, looming so close I had to tilt my neck back.

"Untie me," I said.

My voice shook, and I hated myself for it, but I forced my chin up. I wasn't going to sit here and beg.

He didn't say a word. He just reached into his pocket, pulled out my phone, and dropped it onto my lap. The screen was completely shattered into a million pieces. Totally dead.

"You have a lot of mouth for a girl who almost got killed tonight, Alina Moretti," he said, his voice dangerously low.

He leaned down, slamming his hands onto the armrests of my chair, trapping me. He was so close I could smell his cologne—something woody mixed with the smell of wet rain. His face was flawless, sharp, and terrifyingly cold.

"I didn't see anything!" I lied, trying to pull away from him. "I was just taking a shortcut home from my shift. I'm a nobody."

"You are the daughter of Arthur Moretti," he whispered, his blue eyes locking onto mine. "The accountant who stole fifty million dollars and an encrypted ledger from my family five years ago."

The air left my lungs. "My dad? He’s a deadbeat mechanic who ran away years ago!"

"Your father was a thief," Lorenzo said, his grip tightening on the chair. "And he left you behind to distract us. Tonight, my men caught you outside one of our drop points. There are no coincidences."

He reached out, his fingers clamping hard around my jaw, forcing me to look at him. His hand felt like iron, but his skin was burning hot against mine.

"You’re going to help me find him," he said. "Until he shows up to save you... you're mine."

He let go of my face and turned his back to walk away.

The second he turned, something inside me just snapped. I didn't think. I didn't plan it. I just threw my entire weight forward and slammed my forehead straight into the bridge of his nose.

CRACK.

My own head exploded in pain, white spots dancing in my eyes. But Lorenzo stumbled back, gasping as blood instantly sprayed from his nose, dripping down his white shirt.

I scrambled out of the chair, my bare feet slipping on the smooth rug. I didn't care about the pain in my head. I just sprinted for the big glass doors leading to the balcony.

Get out. Run.

I slammed my hip against the door handle. The doors flew open, and the freezing night wind hit my face. I lunged toward the stone railing, desperately looking for a pipe to climb down—

A hand grabbed the collar of my shirt and violently threw me backward.

I went flying, hitting the floor hard. The breath was completely knocked out of me, leaving me coughing and gasping on the rug.

Lorenzo stood over me, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His calm face was completely gone, replaced by pure, terrifying rage.

He stepped closer, his heavy boot pressing down firmly onto my ribs, pinning me to the floor.

"Look at that," he hissed, his eyes burning. "The little mouse has teeth."