All Chapters of Heels & Handcuffs - Club Gold Trilogy: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Amanda. Two weeks pass in relative peace. My bruises fade to yellow-green, then disappear entirely. The cut on my forehead heals into a thin pink line that Keith traces with his fingers every night, like he's reminding himself I survived. The estate becomes less of a prison and more of a sanctuary. I spend my mornings training with Dimitri—he's pushed me harder since the club incident, as if he's personally determined that I'll never be caught off-guard again. Afternoons are with Sofia, learning surveillance techniques and intelligence analysis. She's teaching me to hack basic security systems, to forge documents, to become the kind of asset Keith needs. But the evenings—the evenings belong to Keith and me alone. Tonight, he's later than usual. I wait in his study, curled in the leather armchair with a book I'm not really reading. When he finally arrives, there's a tension in his shoulders that's been absent since the Colombo confrontation. "Bad day?" I ask, setting the book asid

Amanda. The dinner is tonight, and I'm more nervous than I was before my first mission at the club. I've spent the day with Sofia, who's been surprisingly helpful in preparing me for what to expect. She's not part of the lifestyle herself, but she's attended enough club events to understand the dynamics. "Just remember," she says while helping me choose an outfit, "these people aren't monsters. They're just exploring a different kind of relationship. Some of them are doctors, lawyers, business owners. Normal people with unconventional private lives." "Like Keith," I say, studying my reflection. The dress we selected is elegant but modest—deep blue silk that highlights my eyes without being too revealing. "Keith is anything but normal," Sofia says with a slight smile. "But yes. The point is, don't go in with preconceptions. Ask questions, be honest about your concerns, and trust your instincts." The dinner is being held in one of the club's private dining rooms—neutral territory

Amanda. I wake up alone, which is never a good sign. Keith's side of the bed is cold—he's been gone for hours. I find him in his study, surrounded by screens showing surveillance footage, his expression dark. "How long have you been up?" I ask. "Since three." He doesn't look away from the screens. "Elena was surveilling the estate last night. She sat outside our gates for forty minutes, just watching." Ice slides through my veins. "She knows where we live." "She's known for weeks, probably. This was just a reminder. A message that we're not as protected as we think." He finally looks at me, and I see the exhaustion in his eyes. "I'm increasing security. No one gets within a mile of this property without us knowing." I cross to him, taking the coffee cup from his hand before he can drink more caffeine he doesn't need. "You need to sleep." "I need to make sure you're safe." "I am safe. Dimitri's here, we have a dozen guards, and the estate has more security than most government

Amanda. The trap is elegant in its simplicity. Sofia creates a false security report suggesting a weakness in the estate's eastern perimeter—a blind spot in the camera coverage, a gap in the patrol schedule. We make sure this information gets leaked to one of Elena's contacts, a low-level operative who thinks he's spying for her but is actually feeding her exactly what we want. Meanwhile, I become the bait. "I don't like this," Keith says for the hundredth time as I prepare for my role. "Using you as the target—" "Is the only thing that makes sense," I finish. "Elena wants to get to me. We're giving her the opportunity, but on our terms, in our controlled environment." The plan is for me to take my usual evening walk through the estate gardens—a routine I've established over the past weeks. Except tonight, I'll conveniently walk near that 'blind spot' in the eastern perimeter. If Elena takes the bait, she'll make her move. And we'll be waiting. "Fifteen operatives positioned a

Amanda. I'm suiting up for war when Marcus's phone rings. "It's Franco," he says, answering. He listens for a long moment, his expression shifting from tense to confused to stunned. "You're joking. He actually—" Another pause. "Alright. We'll stand down. But I'm sending a car to pick him up. Non-negotiable." He hangs up and just stares at his phone. "What?" I demand. "What happened? Is Keith—" "He's fine. Franco let him go. But there's been... a development." "What kind of development?" "The kind where your boyfriend offers his kidnapper a job instead of having her killed." I'm certain I misheard. "What?" Marcus explains the whole thing—Franco arriving, confronting Elena, offering to sideline her. And then Keith, in a move no one saw coming, suggesting Elena work for our organization for a year as training and rehabilitation. "He's lost his mind," I say flatly. "Elena just kidnapped him. She planted explosives on our property. She threatened to torture him. And he wants to e