Chapter 3

The Golden Cage

Elena’s POV 

The bedroom door clicked shut behind me with a sound like a cell locking.

"This will be your room," the uniformed woman, Mrs. Chen, she'd said her name was, gestured around with a practiced smile. "Mr. Cross has instructed that you have everything you need. If you require anything, simply press the button on the nightstand."

Everything I need except my freedom.

I stood frozen in the center of the room, unable to process what I was seeing. This wasn't a bedroom. It was a palace. Black sheets in champagne gold covered a bed large enough for four people. A crystal light hung from the ceiling, catching light and throwing rainbow prisms across cream-colored walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked perfectly manicured gardens. There was a sitting area with a velvet sofa. A vanity with more mirrors than any one person needed.

It was beautiful.

It was suffocating.

"I can't stay here," I whispered.

Mrs. Chen's smile didn't falter. "Mr. Cross was very clear about his instructions. Dinner will be served at eight. I'll send someone to bring you appropriate attire."

She left before I could argue. The door closed with that same terrible clicking sound.

I ran to it, grabbed the handle, and twisted. It opened easily. Relief flooded through me for exactly two seconds, until I saw them. Two men in dark suits stood in the hallway, positioned on either side of my door like sentries. Security guards. Of course.

"Miss Martinez," one of them said politely. "Can we help you with something?"

"I need to leave."

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

"You can't keep me here. This is illegal. This is kidnapping."

The guard's expression didn't change. "Mr. Cross has instructed us to ensure your safety and comfort. For your own protection, we ask that you remain in the residence."

My own protection. That's what he was calling it. I slammed the door and leaned against it, my whole body shaking. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be real. I'd gone from ruining a wedding to being imprisoned in a mansion in less than two hours.

My phone. I needed my phone.

I patted my dress frantically, then remembered, I'd left my clutch in the cathedral. My phone, my keys, my ID, everything was back there. I had nothing.

A scream built in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing me break.

I moved to the windows instead, looking for a way out. They overlooked a second-story drop onto a stone patio. Too high to jump without breaking something. The gardens beyond were surrounded by that massive iron fence. And even if I somehow made it over, where would I go? I had no money, no phone, no shoes except the borrowed ones that were already giving me blisters.

I was well and truly trapped. The sound of raised voices made me freeze.

"..absolutely unacceptable!" That was Richard Cross's voice, coming from somewhere downstairs. Loud enough to carry through the entire house. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

"We're not having this conversation." Damien's voice, cold and controlled.

"We are having this conversation! You humiliated this family today. You destroyed a merger three years in the making. You made us look weak in front of our competitors. And for what? For some secretary with delusions?"

I pressed my ear against the door, my heart pounding.

"She has a name," Damien said.

"I don't care what her name is! She needs to go. Now. Tonight. I'll have my lawyers draw up an NDA and a settlement. We'll pay her to disappear and never speak of this again."

"No."

The single word was final. Absolute.

"Son, be reasonable.."

"I said no."

There was a pause. When Richard spoke again, his voice was dangerous. "Then what exactly is your plan? You can't marry her. Not after today's disaster. The board would never approve. The shareholders would revolt. Your reputation.."

"If I can't marry her in public," Damien interrupted, each word deliberate, "then I'll keep her in private."

My blood ran cold.

"You're going to keep her as what? A mistress? Hidden away like some dirty secret?"

"I'm going to keep her as mine. That's all that matters."

"This is insane. She's made a fool of you, of this entire family, and you're rewarding her for it?"

"This conversation is over, Father. Leave my house."

I heard footsteps. Heavy. Angry. Then the slam of a door that rattled the walls. Silence fell.

I backed away from the door, my breath coming in short gasps. Keep her in private. Keep her as mine. Like I was a possession. A thing to be locked away.

I hated him. I hated myself more for still loving him. The tears came then, hot and shameful. I sank to the floor beside that enormous bed, my cheap blue-and-white dress pooling around me, and sobbed. For my stupidity. For my weakness. For believing that someone like Damien Cross could ever really choose someone like me.

I don't know how long I cried. Long enough for my eyes to swell and my throat to go raw. I had to get out.

I stood on shaking legs, kicked off the borrowed heels, and went back to the door. The guards were still there, but maybe if I was fast enough—

I yanked the door open and ran.

"Miss Martinez!" one guard shouted.

I didn't stop. My bare feet slapped against marble floors as I sprinted down the hallway. There had to be another exit. A back door. A servant's entrance. Something.