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Chapter 4 Caged

Author: K.Vale
last update publish date: 2026-08-15 03:14:48

~Luciano~

“Just as expected. You're very pretty.”

“Don't call me pretty.”

“No?” A faint smile touched my mouth. “It doesn't matter whether you agree or not. It's my bed you'll be sleeping in tonight.”

“Tch. You knew I was supposed to marry you, and you almost had one of your guard dogs shoot me.”

“Oh?” My smile widened. “The little bird has quite a sharp beak.”

This was just as amusing as I'd expected.

The last time I'd seen him, he'd looked so frightened that I'd expected him to tuck his tail between his legs and run the moment he realized who I was.

Yet here he was, standing before me with fear still dancing in those blue eyes and something else beneath it.

Defiance, perhaps.

The priest had already disappeared down the altar, and the guests were beginning to move toward the refreshments.

The charade was over.

I reached up, letting the white veil fall over Vincent's face again before taking his arm and leading him down from the altar.

“H-hey…” He resisted slightly.

“Unless you want to spend the rest of the evening saying goodbye to your family, we have nothing else to do here.”

His mouth snapped shut.

At the cathedral doors, Carlos caught my attention. One look was enough. His eyes shifted toward the reception hall, and I followed his line of sight.

Don Von.

The head of the Kadvashk mafia sat at one of the tables, surrounded by his men.

A ridiculous name for a ridiculous man.

“Stay here.”

Vincent stopped behind me.

I crossed the hall and took the empty seat opposite Don Von without asking.

Power had its privileges.

Don Von's smile widened.

“Volkov. Such a sight. You've finally settled down.”

I reached for the drink sitting across the table and took a slow sip.

“Nothing about the wedding, Don Von. I'd like to know why you've been refusing my men access to the eastern docks.”

His smile faltered.

“We had an understanding.”

“We did.” I set the glass down. “A good one, if I remember correctly.”

Don Von folded his hands over the table and leaned forward.

“We agreed to remain on good terms if you married my daughter, Layla.”

Ah.

Layla.

The spoiled little princess who had once mistaken my tolerance for interest.

I almost laughed.

“You're willing to risk our arrangement over a marriage proposal I rejected years ago?”

His jaw tightened.

“She would have made a suitable wife.”

“Perhaps. If only she knew how to suck a dick right,” I drawled, taking another sip of my drink. “You could give her some more daddy training. Maybe then I'd look her way.”

I leaned back. Don Von's expression hardened.

“You're making a mistake, Volkov.”

“Am I?” I smiled. “If this is the petty reason you've decided to cross me, I'd advise you against it.”

Silence settled between us.

His fingers tapped against the table.

“Then perhaps we should reconsider our arrangement.”

“Hm.”

I stood.

“Enjoy the night while it lasts.”

A nervous flicker crossed his face. That was enough.

I turned away.

Across the hall, Vincent had already been surrounded by his family. His head was bowed, his shoulders tense.

He feared his own family. Yet he'd had enough courage to snap at me twice within the last five minutes.

Annoying.

I watched him for another moment. Then I smiled.

Perhaps the little bird wasn't as fragile as Vangand had made him appear. And that could make things considerably more interesting.

I walked across the cathedral floor toward them.

Vangand noticed me first.

“Luciano.”

I stopped beside Vincent.

“My husband is leaving.”

Vangand's eyes flicked toward Vincent.

“Of course.”

Emerald stepped forward with a smile.

“It was such a beautiful ceremony. We're all very happy for you.”

I looked at her.

“I doubt that.”

Her smile faltered.

Vincent lowered his head, and I caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Was he trying not to smile?

“We have more important things to do than stay around vermin.”

I reached for Vincent's arm and pulled him away from his family.

He came without protest.

We reached the cathedral doors, where several black cars were already waiting.

Carlos stood beside the first one and opened the rear door.

Vincent stared at me. I stared back, daring him to go against me.

He climbed in and I followed after him.

Carlos closed the door and took the passenger seat while the driver pulled away from the cathedral.

Vincent pressed himself into the opposite corner, his hands folded tightly in his lap.

“You were very quiet back there,” I said, breaking the silence.

Vincent turned his head, staring out the window at the passing signs.

“I didn't have anything to say.”

“No?”

I let out a quiet chuckle.

“You seemed to have plenty to say when it was just the two of us at the altar. Where did all that sharp tongue go when your father walked up?”

Vincent's jaw clenched. He didn't look at me, but his fingers dug into his knees.

“He isn't my father. He just makes the decisions.”

“And now I make the decisions and own you.”

Vincent snapped his head toward me.

“Nobody owns me.”

I leaned closer and caught his chin between my fingers, forcing him to look at me.

“Keep telling yourself that, little bird. It will make watching you realize the truth so much more entertaining when we get home.”

I released him.

Vincent flinched back against the door, glaring at me. He didn't say another word for the rest of the drive.

The car turned onto the private road leading to the estate. When the gates opened, the Volkov mansion came into view.

Carlos opened the door when we stopped. I stepped out and extended a hand to Vincent.

He ignored it and climbed out on his own.

“Welcome to your new life.”

He mumbled something I didn't bother pointing out. I turned and walked toward the entrance.

He followed, the doors closing behind us.

Vincent stopped in the middle of the foyer.

His eyes landed on the suitcases near the fireplace.

“What are those?”

“Your belongings from your father's estate.”

I unbuttoned my cuffs and nodded toward Carlos.

Two of my men stepped forward. They opened the suitcases and began throwing the contents into the fireplace.

Vincent gasped and stepped forward.

My arm caught his waist before he could get any closer.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?!”

“You don't wear Vangand's clothes under my roof.”

I watched the clothes burn.

“You carry nothing from that house into mine. Everything you own from this moment on comes from me.”

He shoved against my arm.

“You're insane.”

“Perhaps.”

I released him.

Vincent glared at the fire, then at me.

I reached for the edge of the veil still covering his head and lifted it from his face.

“Don't touch me.”

“I need to see my husband's face, don't I?” I smiled. “Besides, I'll be seeing a lot more of you when we consummate this marriage.”

His face paled.

He shoved my hand away and stepped back.

“We're not doing that!”

His voice trembled with anger.

“We're not a real couple. This is a business arrangement to pay a stupid debt, and you know it!”

“A real couple?”

I laughed quietly.

“Of course we aren't a real couple, Vincent. You're a trade agreement.”

I took a step closer.

“But the contract says you belong to me, and I always collect what's mine.”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

I stepped closer until he was backed against the pillar.

“Don't look so terrified, little bird.”

I leaned closer.

“I won't lay a finger on you tonight. You need your rest for tomorrow.”

Vincent swallowed.

“What happens tomorrow?”

My eyes dropped to his wrist.

The brass chain was partly hidden beneath his sleeve.

I reached down and caught the edge of his jacket, pulling the sleeve back.

The brass chain came into view.

My expression hardened.

I knew that chain.

“Tomorrow,” I said, “we will discuss why you are wearing the bracelet of the boy I killed years ago.”

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