Cage By The Billionaire Novels & Stories

"E-Excuse me? And what do you think of me? An animal that you can buy? Yes, you might have paid a huge amount of money but you don't own me!" "You don't really know about that auction, do you? The moment your bidder win, they will own you. Which only means that I own you now." "No, you don't." "If you don't want to do it, then why don't you just pay me $2,000,000 and we're quits?" "I-I don't have that huge amount of money right now..." "Then you don't have any other choice but to obey me. Now, give me your number."

Was he a greedy billionaire as Catherine said earlier? Catherine nudged me as the elevator doors closed. “Is this the billionaire guy?” She whispered in my ear. “Damn, he definitely looks younger than his age. You were right.” “I’ll take that as a compliment.” William Caddel spoke up, surprising me and her. Those words were whispered. How the hell could he hear them? “Thank you.” I cleared my throat and kicked Catherine as my cheeks heated up. Catherine kicked me back and I knew that if I retaliated again, it would never end. “Uh, you live here?”

“You’re a dead man, Croft! A relic! My money and my name will get me out of this! I’m a billionaire!” “Were,” I corrected him coldly. “You were a billionaire. Your assets are frozen, your accounts seized. What wasn’t taken by the government now belongs to Jennifer. She’s using your money to build a rather stunning art gallery. Spittle flew from his mouth as he yelled, “I’LL BURN IT TO THE GROUND! I’LL BURN EVERYTHING YOU HAVE!”

Then he said quietly, “You have full access to the penthouse, the company network, and resources most engineers would kill for.” Elliot crossed his arms. “But I can’t leave.” Timothy didn’t answer. Elliot sighed. He looked around the massive room again. The technology. The view. The luxury. It really was a golden cage. Finally, he muttered under his breath, “What the hell did I get myself into?”

Long seconds later, the doors rolled open to reveal the penthouse—a vast expanse of black granite, faintly lit and lavishly furnished. The walls, which could have been covered in crisp bills, screamed of an opulence as loud as the owner’s net worth. The walls were adorned with art that cost more than the apartment that Elizabeth currently shared with her brother. To a mortal, this place seemed as inaccessible in price as the man himself was claimed to be in character.

" He leaned against the cold glass wall of the incubation chamber, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip, and shouted at the silent, floating light dust ball inside. The rest of his words, I couldn't hear. My consciousness sank into the deepest ocean, returning to eternal silence. My soul completely separated from the body that was slowly turning into light dust, and floated lightly above the laboratory. I looked down indifferently in my soul state. The once all powerful and ruthless business tycoon Anders, now like a dying trapped beast, was screaming at the cold incubation chamber with a heart rending, desperate cry. He pounded the unbreakable special glass with his fists,

"As long as he pays for the open bar." I looked past Evans's shoulder, out the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring at the sprawling, magnificent Chicago skyline. I thought about the dark duplex in Pennsylvania. I thought about the terrified, abused girl who had boarded a train with nothing but a sketchpad and a Vanguard acceptance letter. I thought about Richard Thorpe, sitting alone in his massive estate, having lost the only two things he could never buy back. The city was glowing in the late afternoon sun. The Blackridge Kings were gone. The billionaire's cage was shattered. We had built our own empire. And the foundation was indestructible.

My art, my life, my lies—all ash. A knock broke the silence—soft, hesitant. My heart leapt, hoping for Lana, but it was a courier, delivering a letter on heavy stock. Cara’s father’s seal, a name I’d heard in whispers: a billionaire older than Victor, richer than God. Cole, my daughter speaks highly of your… talents. Meet me. Opportunity awaits. A penthouse address, Manhattan’s elite core. I stared at the letter, the futon creaking as I sat, the city’s hum a distant roar. Lana was gone, Cara’s hook still sank deep, and a new trap gleamed on the horizon. The cost of my desires wasn’t just my marriage—it was my soul.

The Cage Closes Richard's hand clamped around my wrist, and he pulled me toward the exit before I could scream. "Smile," he murmured against my ear. "People are watching." I looked around wildly. He was right. Security guards. Businesspeople. Cameras everywhere. If I caused a scene, it would be my word against his—the hysterical girl versus the respectable billionaire. "Let go of me." "Not until we are somewhere private." He guided me through the revolving doors, and his car waited at the curb. Black. Sleek. Expensive. The driver opened the back door without a word.

He couldn't let her see the cage he was in. After the call, the silence of the penthouse felt heavier. He explored his room, finding the windows sealed shut. The door had no lock on his side. He was truly a prisoner in a gilded cage. Exhaustion finally overwhelmed him, and he fell into a fitful sleep on the impossibly soft bed, his dreams haunted by gray eyes and the sound of rain.