If only she knew

The Golden Cage

The click of the lock sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room. Elena stood frozen by the open floorboard, the fake passports still clutched in her hand. The only light in the study was the pale moonlight filtering in from the hallway through the open door until Marcus closed it. Now, it was almost pitch black.

"Marcus, please," Elena whispered. Her voice felt small and thin. "I can explain. I was just... I heard a noise."

Marcus didn't move. He stood against the door, a dark shadow that blocked her only way out. "You were always so curious, Elena. That was the one thing I hoped you would grow out of. Curiosity is a dangerous thing for a woman in this house."

He took a step forward. The floorboards creaked under his expensive leather shoes. Elena backed away until her hips hit the heavy mahogany desk. She felt trapped. The man standing in front of her wasn't the sweet, gift giving husband she had eaten dinner with just hours ago.

"Who are these people, Marcus?" she asked, holding up the passports. Her hand was shaking so much the paper rattled. "Why do you have so many names? And who was that woman in the photo?"

Marcus laughed. It wasn't a happy sound. It was cold and dry. "Those are just tools, Elena. In my world, you cannot stay the same person for too long. People ask questions. People get greedy. As for the woman... she was a mistake. A mistake I had to fix."

He was close enough now that she could smell the metallic scent again. It was stronger now, mixed with the smell of rain and sweat. He reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him. His fingers were like a vice.

"I gave you everything," he said, his voice dropping to a low hiss. "I gave you a name. I gave you a life that most people only dream of. All I asked for was your trust. And you threw it away for a pile of old paper."

Elena tried to pull away, but he didn't let go. "You're hurting me, Marcus."

"The truth hurts more," he replied.

Marcus didn't let go of her chin. His eyes scanned her face as if he were looking for the girl he had married, but all he saw now was a woman who knew too much. Elena felt a tear roll down her cheek. She was terrified, but a small spark of anger was beginning to burn in her chest. She had spent three years loving a ghost, a man who didn't even use his real name.

"What happens now, Marcus?" she asked, her voice shaking. "Are you going to put my name in that book too? Are you going to write 'FINAL' next to me and find someone else to trap in this house?"

Marcus’s face twisted into a dark grin. "You think you’re a victim, Elena? I saved you. You were nothing before I found you. I gave you a crown. But if the Queen tries to burn down the palace, the King has to stop her."

He let go of her chin so suddenly that she stumbled back against the desk. He turned his back to her for a split second to put the silver key into his pocket. It was the only chance she had. Elena’s hand searched the top of the mahogany desk behind her. Her fingers brushed against a heavy crystal paperweight another expensive gift he had bought her to celebrate a business deal.

She gripped the cold glass tightly. She didn't want to hurt him, but she knew that if she didn't move now, she might never leave this room alive. Marcus turned back around, his face calm again, which was even scarier than his anger.

"Give me the passports, Elena," he said, holding out his hand. "We can forget this happened. I’ll take you on a trip. We can go to Paris, or Italy. We can start over."

"I don't want to start over with a liar!" Elena shouted.

She threw the passports at his face. As he moved his hands to block them, she lunged toward the door. She didn't use the crystal paperweight to hit him; she used it to smash the small lamp on the desk, plunging the room into total darkness.

She knew this room better than he thought. She had spent hours cleaning and arranging things while he was at work. She ducked under his reaching arms and scrambled toward the door.

In the pitch black room, Elena’s heart felt like it was going to burst through her ribs. She heard Marcus grunt as he tripped over the loose floorboard she had left open. It gave her the two seconds she needed. She reached the door and fumbled for the lock. Her fingers found the cold metal, and she twisted it with all her strength.

The door swung open, and she burst into the hallway. The bright lights of the penthouse felt like needles in her eyes. She didn't look back. She ran toward the private elevator, her bare feet slapping against the cold marble floor.

"Elena! Stop!" Marcus’s voice roared from the study. It wasn't the voice of the man she loved. It was a roar of pure possession.

She reached the elevator and pressed the button. The gold doors seemed to take forever to open. She looked over her shoulder and saw Marcus emerge from the study. He was fast. He was moving toward her with a look of calm, cold determination that was more terrifying than a scream.

Ding. The elevator doors opened. Elena dived inside and smashed the button for the ground floor. As the doors began to slide shut, Marcus reached out his hand. His fingers almost touched the metal door, but he was a second too late.

The elevator began to move down. Elena slumped against the mirrored wall, gasping for air. She looked down at her hand and realized she was still clutching the crystal paperweight. She had survived, but she was trapped in a metal box moving toward a lobby where Marcus’s security team was always waiting.

She looked at the elevator's small screen. Level 30... 25... 20... Suddenly, the elevator jerked to a stop. The lights inside turned red.

Suspicious Ending: A voice came over the elevator’s intercom. It was Marcus, speaking from his computer in the study. "You forgot one thing, Elena," he said, his voice echoing in the small space. "I own this building. I control everything in it including the air you breathe." The elevator began to move again, but it wasn't going down. It was going back up to the penthouse.