The Gilded Cage

Julian’s hand was like a steel band around my wrist as he dragged me out of the foyer and toward the black SUV idling in the driveway. My small duffel bag bumped against my legs, and my chest was still sticky with the champagne from the shattered glasses.

"You are hurting me," I hissed, trying to twist my arm free from his grip.

"Then stop dragging your feet," Julian replied, his voice completely devoid of warmth. He yanked open the back door of the SUV and practically shoved me inside. "Get in."

I scrambled onto the leather seat, rubbing my bruised wrist. Julian walked around to the driver's side, dismissing his personal chauffeur with a sharp wave of his hand. He slid into the driver's seat, slammed his door, and locked the doors with a heavy click.

"This is kidnapping," I said, my voice shaking as he peeled out of the estate gates and onto the dark city streets. "You cannot just force me into your car."

"I can do whatever I want," Julian said, his eyes fixed on the road. "I am your Alpha, and you are carrying my child."

"You are not my Alpha," I shot back, anger flaring in my chest. "You are a monster who is blackmailing a pregnant woman."

"I am a businessman protecting his assets," he corrected me coldly.

I turned my head to stare out the tinted window, watching the streetlights blur past. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. But I bit my lip until I tasted blood. I had spent my entire life crying over the cruelty of the Vance family. I would not give Julian Sterling the satisfaction of seeing me break.

We drove for nearly thirty minutes in a suffocating silence. When the SUV pulled into the underground garage of a towering skyscraper, Julian parked in a private elevator bay.

"Get out," he commanded.

I followed him into the private elevator, clutching my bag to my chest. The elevator ascended rapidly, and when the doors slid open, I was greeted by a penthouse that looked like a museum. It was incredibly luxurious, with floor-to-ceiling windows, white marble floors, and sleek, modern furniture that looked like it had never been sat on.

"This way," Julian said, striding across the vast living room.

I followed him down a narrow hallway, past a set of heavy double doors that I assumed led to his master suite. He stopped at a small, plain door at the very end of the hall. He pushed it open and stepped aside.

"This is your room," he said.

I looked inside. It was a windowless storage closet. There was a single, narrow cot pushed against one wall, a small wooden desk, and absolutely no other furniture. It smelled like bleach and dust.

"You cannot be serious," I whispered, turning to face him. "You are going to keep your pregnant mate in a closet?"

"You are a servant, Ava," Julian replied, his expression entirely unreadable. "Servants sleep in the staff quarters. You should be grateful that I am giving you a room at all, considering the lies you have told."

"I did not lie to you!" I yelled, my composure finally snapping. "I ran away from you because I was terrified! I did not know who you were!"

"Lower your voice," Julian warned, his gray eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "There are security guards on this floor. Unless you want the entire building to know that the CEO's pregnant maid is actually his mate, I suggest you keep your mouth shut."

I swallowed hard, my hands trembling. He had me completely trapped.

"I expect you to be awake at six in the morning to prepare my breakfast," Julian said, turning away from me. "Do not be late."

He walked back down the hallway, his footsteps echoing against the marble. I stood in the doorway of the closet for a long time, staring after him. I pressed my hand to my stomach, feeling the faint, steady pulse of the life growing inside me.

"I promise you," I whispered to the baby. "I will find a way out of this. I will not let him destroy us."

I stepped into the closet, closed the door, and sat down on the hard cot. I did not sleep that night. I sat in the dark, listening to the hum of the city far below, and I began to plan.

(Ava’s POV - The Next Morning)

My hands were trembling as I carried the silver tray into the massive dining room. My back ached from the thin mattress, and a wave of nausea had been rolling through my stomach since four in the morning. I had spent the last hour scrubbing his kitchen and cooking his breakfast.

Julian was already sitting at the head of the table, dressed in a sharp, expensive suit, reading a financial newspaper on his tablet. He did not look up when I walked in.

"Your breakfast, Mr. Sterling," I said, placing the plate of eggs and bacon in front of him.

"Leave it," he said, his eyes still on the screen.

I stepped back and waited. I was not going to give him a reason to punish me.

After a long, agonizing minute, Julian finally lowered his tablet. He looked at the plate, and then he looked up at me. His face twisted with disgust.

"Take this back," he said coldly. "The eggs are too runny."

I stared at the plate. "I cooked them exactly how you requested them, Mr. Sterling. You said over-easy."

"I asked for perfection," he replied, his voice sharp. "This is not perfection. Fix it."

My hands clenched into fists at my sides. "I am not your personal chef. I am a prisoner."

"You are whatever I say you are," Julian said, standing up from his chair. He walked toward me, his tall frame towering over mine. "And right now, you are a servant who cannot follow simple instructions."

"I am not doing this," I said, my voice shaking with a mixture of fear and fury. "I am not going to spend the rest of my pregnancy being treated like dirt by a man who claims to be my mate."

"You do not get to make demands," Julian growled, his eyes flashing gold. "You gave up that right the moment you spread your legs for a stranger in a nightclub."

"Shut up!" I screamed.

The sound of my voice echoed through the silent dining room. Julian froze, his eyes widening in shock. I had never raised my voice to anyone in my life. But I was done.

"I am not the villain in this story, Julian," I said, tears burning in my eyes. "Your fiancée is the one who beats me. Your pack is the one that treats me like an animal. You are the one who trapped me here. I did not do anything wrong!"

Before Julian could respond, a loud chime echoed through the penthouse. The sound of the front door unlocking.

Julian’s head snapped toward the foyer, his body instantly tensing.

"Who is that?" I whispered.

"I do not know," Julian said, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. "I did not give anyone the access code."

The heavy doors swung open, and a woman's voice echoed through the penthouse.

"Julian, darling! I decided to surprise you!"

The blood drained from my face. I knew that voice. I had been hearing it scream at me for the past fifteen years.

Isabella walked into the dining room, dressed in a stunning emerald green dress. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me.

"Julian?" Isabella asked, her voice dangerously quiet. "Why is my sister in your penthouse?"

Julian stepped forward smoothly. "She is my new maid, Isabella. Your father offered her services to me."

"A maid?" Isabella laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. She walked toward me, her heels clicking on the marble. She looked me up and down, her nose wrinkling. "She smells like a sick dog."

Isabella took another step closer, and her eyes suddenly narrowed. She was an Alpha's daughter, and her senses were sharp. She inhaled deeply, and her face twisted into a mask of pure rage.

"She is pregnant," Isabella hissed, pointing a shaking finger at my stomach. "She is carrying a bastard child! Julian, did you know about this?"

"I did," Julian said calmly. "It is why I am keeping her here. I am punishing her for her sins."

Isabella’s eyes flicked between Julian and me, and a dark, terrifying realization began to dawn on her face. She grabbed the collar of my uniform and yanked it down, exposing the top of my chest.

"Oh my god," Isabella whispered. She stepped back, her eyes wide. "You are sleeping with her. You are sleeping with the help, Julian!"

"Isabella, calm down," Julian said, his voice tight.

"I will not calm down!" Isabella screamed. "I am your fiancée! How dare you bring this whore into your home and... and..."

She spun around and grabbed the silver tray off the table. She swung it at my head. I ducked, and the tray smashed into the wall, leaving a massive dent.

"Guards!" Isabella shrieked, rushing toward the front door. "Security!"

"Isabella, wait!" Julian shouted, grabbing her arm.

"Get off me!" Isabella yelled, yanking her arm free. "I am calling my father. I am calling the Pack Council. You are going to pay for this, Julian! You are going to pay!"

She ran out of the penthouse, slamming the door behind her.

The room fell into a heavy, terrifying silence. Julian stood frozen for a long moment, his chest heaving. Then, he slowly turned to look at me.

"We have to go," he said, his voice deathly quiet.

"Go where?" I asked, my entire body shaking.

"Anywhere," Julian said, grabbing my arm. "Isabella is going to call the Pack Council. If they get here before we can leave, they will execute you. They do not tolerate an Alpha mating outside of his approved arrangement."

"But I am your mate!" I cried.

"The Council does not care," Julian said, dragging me toward the elevator. "We have ten minutes before the enforcers arrive. We have to run."

The elevator doors opened, and Julian pushed me inside. But as the doors began to close, a loud explosion rocked the building. The lights flickered and went out.

"What was that?" I gasped.

Julian’s face went pale. "That is the Council’s lockdown protocol. They have already sealed the building. We are trapped inside."