The cage was not iron, but gold.Velvet curtains draped the windows, silks spilled across the bed, and jeweled lamps cast their glow on walls painted with scenes of gods and wars. To anyone else, the chamber would have looked like a palace. To her, it was a prison.They had stripped her of freedom and cloaked her in luxury, every necklace another shackle, every jewel another chain.The door opened with the sound of steel sliding against steel. He entered the man who never removed his gloves, who carried command in every step. His presence filled the chamber like smoke, suffocating yet impossible not to breathe in.“You will eat,” he said, his voice a low command rather than an offer. He set a silver tray upon the table, the scent of roasted meat and spiced wine filling the air.“I am not your pet,” she answered, her chin lifting, though her wrists trembled where silk ropes had once bitten into her skin.His gaze lingered, unreadable, before he spoke again. “No. You are leverage.” He
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