The Golden Cage Of Two Monsters

The cold marble of the bathroom floor was nothing compared to the chill creeping up Sienna Moretti’s spine. She stood frozen in front of the ornate mirror, staring at the dark, purplish bruise at the base of her throat. It wasn't a mark of passion. It was a brand of ownership left by Dominic Blackwood the night before—a silent reminder that she was his most prized acquisition.

"Sienna, darling? What’s taking so long?"

The deep, commanding voice vibrated through the heavy oak door. Sienna flinched, quickly pulling the collar of her silk robe higher. She forced a steady breath, trying to erase the traces of terror from her face before turning the lock.

Dominic stood there, silhouetted against the dim hallway light in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. He was handsome, powerful, and utterly obsessed with his wife. But to Sienna, Dominic’s eyes felt less like those of a lover and more like a warden inspecting a high-security cell.

"Just a slight headache, Dominic," she murmured, keeping her eyes low.

Dominic stepped forward, closing the distance until the sharp, woody scent of his expensive cologne overwhelmed her. His large hand reached out, tracing her cheek with a thumb that felt like sandpaper against her velvet skin.

"A headache? Or are you hiding from me again? You know I loathe waiting, Sienna. Especially today. My brother arrives this morning, and I expect you to welcome him properly."

Dominic gripped her chin, forcing her gaze upward to meet his icy blue eyes.

"Remember one thing. Killian is my blood, but he is still a man. I don't want you leaving this room in anything revealing while he’s under my roof. Do you understand?"

Sienna nodded mechanically. "Yes, Dominic. I understand."

"Good girl," he whispered, pressing a hard, possessive kiss to her forehead before turning to leave.

Breakfast at the Blackwood estate was a suffocating affair. Across the long, mahogany table sat the man who had been making Sienna’s heart skip beats for the wrong reasons for the last ten minutes. Killian Vane.

Killian looked nothing like the troubled teenager she remembered from years ago. His hair was a dark, controlled mess, his skin was tanned from years spent abroad, and there was a predatory glint in his obsidian eyes. If Dominic was the fire that consumed, Killian was the deep ocean—calm on the surface, but capable of drowning you without a second's notice.

"Sorry for the intrusion, Dominic. I didn't realize the renovations on my London flat would take this long," Killian said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that felt like a physical touch against Sienna’s skin.

Dominic chuckled—a rare sound reserved only for his inner circle. "Don’t be absurd, Killian. This house is far too large for just Sienna and me. Besides, with my frequent business trips to Zurich, I need a man I can trust to watch over things while I'm away."

Sienna nearly choked on her tea. Watch over things? Or watch over her?

"Oh, I’ll watch over everything very carefully, Dom," Killian replied.

In that instant, Killian’s eyes locked onto hers. There was no hesitation, no shame. His gaze traveled down to her throat, fixating on the high collar she had used to hide Dominic's mark. A smirk played at the corner of his mouth—so faint it was almost invisible, but enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

"Sienna, you look pale. Are you unwell?" Killian asked. His tone sounded genuinely concerned, but his eyes remained predatory, pinning her to her seat.

"I’m perfectly fine, Killian," she answered stiffly.

Dominic checked his Patek Philippe and stood up. "I have to head to the city for the board meeting. Killian, feel free to settle in. Sienna can show you to your new quarters."

Dominic leaned down and kissed Sienna deeply, a vulgar display of dominance intended solely for Killian’s benefit. Sienna remained motionless, feeling the kiss like a territorial claim.

"I'm off, darling. Behave yourself," Dominic whispered against her ear before walking out, his footsteps echoing through the grand hall.

Silence fell over the room—a heavy, electric silence. The sound of Dominic’s departing car was replaced by the clink of Killian’s spoon against his porcelain cup.

"He’s quite the possessive one, isn't he?"

Killian’s question shattered the quiet. Sienna didn't dare look up. She began clearing the plates with trembling hands.

"Dominic just loves me very much, Killian."

"Is it love? Or is it incarceration?"

Suddenly, Killian was standing right beside her. He was so close she could feel the radiating heat of his body. He didn't reach for a plate; instead, his hand moved to the edge of her collar.

"Don't, Killian. You're his brother," she hissed, trying to pull away.

"Precisely because I'm his brother, I know all his secrets. Including how he treats you like a bird in a gilded cage." Killian leaned in, his breath warm against the sensitive skin of her neck.

His fingers boldly tugged at the fabric, exposing the dark bruise Dominic had left. Killian hissed low in his throat, his eyes darkening to charcoal.

"He marked you like an animal. And you just let him?"

"It’s none of your business. Go to your room, Killian. It's in the East Wing... right next to ours," Sienna said, her voice shaking as she tried to salvage her dignity.

Killian didn't retreat. He took a step closer, trapping her between the table and his solid frame. He leaned down, his lips nearly brushing her earlobe.

"Right next to yours? That means I can hear everything tonight, Sienna. I can hear when you cry... and I can hear when you moan his name."

Sienna’s heart hammered against her ribs. She should have slapped him, but her body betrayed her. A strange, forbidden ache bloomed deep in her core—something she had never felt with Dominic.

Killian pulled back, flashing a sharp, dangerous grin.

"Thank you for breakfast, Sister-in-law. I think I’m going to enjoy my stay here very much."

That night, the estate was eerily quiet. Dominic hadn't returned, tied up in late-night negotiations, leaving Sienna alone in her anxiety. She had just finished her shower and was reaching for her nightgown when she heard the heavy click of her bedroom door.

She spun around, expecting Dominic. But standing in the doorway, shirtless and clad only in dark silk trousers, was Killian. He held a small medicinal tin in his hand.

"Dominic called. He’s staying at the Savoy tonight. The meetings are going until dawn," Killian said, his voice thick with a dark intent.

He closed the door behind him. Click. The sound felt like a final sentence.

"Killian, what are you doing? Get out!" Sienna cried, clutching her robe tightly to her chest.

Killian walked toward her, his hunger no longer disguised. He held up the tin.

"I just wanted to treat that bruise on your neck, Sienna. Your husband isn't here... so who’s going to take care of you if not me?"

Killian was in front of her now, the scent of expensive bourbon and rain clinging to him. He placed a hand on her waist, pulling her flush against his hard, tattooed chest.

"You’re shaking, Sienna. Is it fear? Or is it because you want this just as much as I do?"

He leaned down, kissing the bruise on her neck with a searing heat that made her let out a sharp, involuntary gasp.

"Don't, Killian... Dominic will kill us," she whimpered, yet her hands found purchase on his corded shoulders.

Killian let out a low, dark chuckle that vibrated through her entire body.

"Let him try. But tonight... you belong to me."

His hand slid inside her robe, finding the smooth skin that had only ever known one man’s touch. Sienna closed her eyes, falling into a bottomless pit of sin.

Just as their lips were about to meet, Sienna’s phone on the nightstand vibrated violently. The name on the screen made her blood turn to ice.

Incoming Call: Dominic Blackwood

Killian stopped an inch from her lips. He glanced at the phone, then back into her eyes with a taunting, lethal stare.

"Answer it, Sienna. Let him talk... while I do this to you."