Chapter 5

                                                                            The Cage Closes

Richard's hand clamped around my wrist, and he pulled me toward the exit before I could scream.

"Smile," he murmured against my ear. "People are watching."

I looked around wildly. He was right. Security guards. Businesspeople. Cameras everywhere. If I caused a scene, it would be my word against his—the hysterical girl versus the respectable billionaire.

"Let go of me."

"Not until we are somewhere private." He guided me through the revolving doors, and his car waited at the curb. Black. Sleek. Expensive. The driver opened the back door without a word.

"I am not getting in that car."

"Then I will carry you." His grip tightened. "Your choice, Aria. Walk with dignity or be dragged. Either way, you are coming with me."

I could run. But where? He found me at a random motel. He knew about Marcus Zhao within minutes of my arrival. Richard had eyes everywhere, and I had nowhere left to hide.

I got in the car.

He slid in beside me, and the door locked with a decisive click. The privacy screen rose between us and the driver, sealing us in together.

"Where are we going?" My voice came out smaller than I wanted.

"Somewhere we can talk without interruption." He pulled out my mother's necklace from his pocket, let it dangle between us. The silver chain caught the light, and my chest ached.

"Give it back."

"Earn it." He pocketed the necklace again. "Tell me what you were doing in Marcus Zhao's office."

"That is none of your business."

His hand shot out, grabbed my jaw, forced me to look at him. "Everything about you is my business. You are my fiancée."

"I said no to the engagement."

"And I said that does not matter." His thumb pressed into my cheek, just shy of pain. "Do you know what I did this morning, Aria? I bought your father's debt. All of it. Fifty-three million dollars. He owes me now. Not the bank. Not his investors. Me."

The world tilted. "You cannot—"

"I can. I did." He released my face, leaned back like he had not just destroyed my family with a checkbook. "So let us try this again. You will marry me in six months. You will be the perfect, obedient wife. And in return, I will not send your father to prison for embezzlement."

"Embezzlement?"

"Oh, did he not tell you?" Richard's smile was razor-sharp. "Your father has been skimming from his company for years. Offshore accounts. False invoices. Very illegal. I have all the evidence. One phone call, and he spends the next decade in a federal prison."

Lies. It had to be lies. My father was weak, spineless, but he was not a criminal.

Except... in my first timeline, six months after our wedding, my father had been arrested. I never knew the details—Richard kept me isolated, uninformed. But now...

"You framed him."

"I protected him," Richard corrected. "I made those charges disappear. But I can make them reappear just as easily." He leaned forward, invaded my space. "So here is what happens next. You apologize to your parents. You apologize to my mother. You put on your pretty dress and smile at our engagement party next week. And you never, ever contact Marcus Zhao again."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then your father goes to prison. Your mother loses everything. Your sister—sweet, ambitious Lila—loses her trust fund and her reputation." His fingers traced my collarbone, and I fought not to flinch. "I will destroy everyone you love, Aria. Systematically. Thoroughly. Until you have no choice but to cling to me."

This was the Richard I remembered. Not the charming businessman from the first timeline, but the monster underneath. Somehow, my defiance had accelerated his cruelty.

"Why?" The question tore out of me. "Why do you want to marry someone who hates you?"

Something flickered in his eyes—something I could not read. "Because you are perfect."

"I am not—"

"Perfect for what I need." He cut me off. "Beautiful enough to photograph well. Connected enough to be useful. And broken enough that no one will believe you if you ever try to leave."

The casual cruelty of it stole my breath.

"I will make you regret this," I whispered.

"No, darling." He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "You will learn to love me. They all do, eventually. Stockholm syndrome is a powerful thing."

The car stopped.

We were not at my parents' house or his penthouse. We were at a building I did not recognize—all gray concrete and no windows.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere you can think about your choices." He got out, came around to my door. "Come."

"No."

He reached in, hauled me out bodily. I kicked, scratched, fought with everything I had. But Richard was six inches taller and seventy pounds heavier, and he carried me through the entrance like I weighed nothing.

"Help!" I screamed. "Someone help me!"

"No one is coming, Aria." He carried me down a hallway, through a steel door. "This building is mine. Everyone here works for me."

He dropped me in a room—bare walls, concrete floor, a single metal chair bolted to the ground. A camera blinked red in the corner.

"What is this?"

"A lesson." He loosened his tie, rolled up his sleeves. The same casual gesture from last night, but now it felt ominous. "I do not enjoy discipline, Aria. But you leave me no choice."

"If you touch me—"

"I will not lay a hand on you." He pulled out his phone, typed something. "I do not need to."

The door opened. Two men in suits entered, carrying something between them.

My sister. Lila.

She was unconscious, her head lolling, makeup smeared with tears.

"What did you do to her?" I lunged forward, but Richard caught me.

"Nothing permanent. Just a little sedative to keep her cooperative." He nodded to the men, and they dumped Lila in the chair, began securing her wrists with zip ties.

"No. No, please—"

"Every time you defy me," Richard said conversationally, "someone you love suffers. Last night, it was your father's company. Today, it is your sister." He pulled out a syringe, held it up to the light. "This is a very interesting drug, Aria. It does not kill. It just makes you wish you were dead. Twelve hours of absolute agony. Hallucinations. Seizures. Screaming."

"You are insane."

"I am practical." He moved toward Lila, and I threw myself between them.

"Stop! I will do it. I will marry you. Just do not hurt her."

Richard paused, tilted his head. "Say it properly."

"What?"

"Beg." His smile was poison. "On your knees. Beg me to spare your sister, and I will consider it."

Every instinct screamed at me to fight, to resist, to die before submitting.

But Lila was unconscious in that chair. Helpless. And whether she betrayed me in the future or not, she was still my sister.

I sank to my knees.

"Please." The word tasted like ashes. "Please do not hurt her. I will do whatever you want."

Richard crouched down, tilted my chin up. "Whatever I want?"

"Yes."

"You will marry me. You will obey me. You will never contact Marcus Zhao or anyone else who might help you again."

"Yes."

"And you will love me." His thumb brushed my lips. "Eventually."

He stood, pocketed the syringe. "Untie her," he told the men.

They released Lila, who slumped forward. Still unconscious but unharmed.

"Take her home," Richard ordered. "Tell her parents she had too much to drink at a friend's house."

The men carried my sister out, and I remained on my knees, shaking.

Richard extended his hand. "Get up, darling. We have an engagement party to plan."

I took his hand because I had no choice.

And as he pulled me to my feet, his phone buzzed. He glanced at it, and his expression darkened.

"It seems Marcus Zhao just wired a rather large sum to ChemCore. He is buying them out." Richard's eyes cut to me, cold and furious. "You told him."

My blood froze.

"I gave you one rule, Aria. One."

"I spoke to him before you—"

"I do not care." He grabbed my throat, slammed me against the wall. "You just cost me three hundred million dollars. So now I get to cost you something precious."

His phone appeared in front of my face, showing a live feed.

My mother. In her bedroom. Crying.

And my father. Walking in with a gun.

"No—"

"He thinks your mother has been having an affair," Richard whispered. "I sent him very convincing evidence. Anonymous, of course. Let us see what he does with it."

On the screen, my father raised the gun.

And Richard smiled.