The Cage Built For Kings

1437 Words
LENA POV I woke up in silk sheets that probably cost more than most people's houses. And for one horrible second, I forgot where I was. The room was quiet except for the sound of waves crashing against rocks somewhere below the fortress. Pale sunlight spilled through massive glass windows overlooking the ocean. It really beautiful but cold and empty. Then reality hit me all over again. The wedding. The blood. Luca. Killian. Salvatore. My chest tightened painfully. I sat up too fast and immediately looked around slowly. The room itself had massive dark marble floors. Black furniture. Expensive art hanging on the walls. Everything is perfectly organized. Even the air felt controlled in this place. Like Salvatore Romano himself had touched every detail and demanded perfection from it. Nothing looked soft. A folded dress sat neatly on the chair beside the bed. Black silk. Of course. The man kidnaps me and suddenly thinks he gets to choose my clothes too. Psychopath. I climbed out of bed carefully and crossed the room barefoot. My wedding dress from yesterday was gone. Good. I never wanted to see it again. Blood had soaked through the fabric by the end of the night anyway. I swallowed hard at the memory. Luca choking. Killian collapsing. The sound of gunshots echoing through the cathedral. My family was destroyed in minutes. I should've cried. Maybe normal people would've. But growing up in cartel families teaches you something early. You survive first. You break down later. A knock interrupted my thoughts. Before I could answer, the bedroom door opened. A woman stepped inside carrying a tray of food. Young. Quiet. Terrified. She lowered her eyes immediately. "Good morning, miss." Miss. Funny. Because prisoners usually didn't get called miss. "Where's my brother?" The woman hesitated nervously. "He's eating downstairs." Relief hit me instantly. At least he was alive. For now. I walked toward the tray slowly. Coffee. Fruit. Toast. Perfectly arranged. Even breakfast looked controlled in this house. "Did Salvatore send this?" "Yes." The answer irritated me more than it should. I crossed my arms. "Tell your boss poisoning me would be a waste of effort." The woman looked horrified. "I-I would never—" "I know." She looked too scared to even breathe wrong around him. Interesting. Everyone in this fortress feared Salvatore. Not respected. Feared. There was a difference. I dismissed her quietly and changed into the black dress after she left. It fit perfectly. Of course it did. The realization made my stomach twist. He planned this. Prepared for this. Which meant Salvatore Romano didn't just attack my wedding impulsively. He planned every detail carefully. That was somehow more terrifying than the violence I walked downstairs slowly, noticing cameras hidden in nearly every corner. Guards positioned strategically. Locked doors. Keypad elevators. This place wasn't just a mansion. It was a fortress. No. I screamed in my head. This is definitely a cage. And Salvatore held every key. I found Matteo sitting at the dining table staring blankly at untouched pancakes. The second he saw me, relief filled his face. "Lena." I moved toward him immediately, touching his hair gently. "You okay?" He clearly wasn't okay. Dark circles sat beneath his eyes and his hands trembled slightly. Sixteen-year-olds weren't supposed to see people die. Especially not family. He looked down quietly. "Do you think Dante sent the sniper?" The question caught me off guard. I sat beside him slowly. "I don't know." Another lie. I believed Salvatore. Marcus was exactly cruel enough for that. He swallowed hard. "Are we going to die here?" The words shattered something inside me. Because he sounded so small asking it. So young. Fear crawled through my chest violently, but I forced myself to stay calm. I grabbed his hand tightly. "No." "Lena—" "You're not dying," I said firmly. "I won't let anything happen to you." Even if I had to destroy myself protecting him. Matteo stared at me carefully. "You're lying." Smart kid. Too smart. I smiled weakly anyway. "Maybe. But I'll still fight for you." Emotion flickered across his face before he looked away quickly. I knew that look. He was trying not to cry. I hated this place for doing that to him already. Footsteps interrupted us. Heavy. Controlled. The atmosphere changed instantly. Every servant straightened. Every guard became alert. And somehow my body reacted before my mind did. Salvatore. I looked up slowly. Black dress shirt rolled to his forearms. Dark tattoos peeking beneath the fabric. Cold gray eyes locked directly onto mine. God. Why did he have to look like that? Like danger wrapped in expensive fabric. Like sin wearing a calm expression. Salvatore stopped at the head of the table. "You slept." Not a question. I crossed my arms. "Disappointed?" Something dark flickered behind his eyes. "No." Matteo shifted uncomfortably beside me. I noticed Salvatore watching him carefully. Like he was trying to understand us. That should've comforted me. Instead it made him even more dangerous. Because monsters who study people usually know exactly how to destroy them. Salvatore's gaze dropped briefly to my dress. "It fits." I looked down at the black silk. "You planned this k********g for a while, didn't you?" He pulled out a chair slowly across from me. "I plan everything." I believed him instantly. Nothing about this man felt careless. Even his silence felt deliberate. Salvatore leaned back slightly while one of the servants poured coffee for him. Nobody spoke. Nobody even breathed too loudly around him. The power he carried wasn't loud. That was what made it terrifying. Quiet power was always the deadliest kind. I forced myself to meet his eyes. "You murdered my brothers in front of me." The servant holding the coffee pot froze. Salvatore didn't react. "They murdered my family first." The calmness in his voice made chills crawl down my spine. No anger. No emotion. Just the truth. The tension at the table thickened instantly. I studied Salvatore carefully. The exhaustion hidden beneath his composure. The tiny flicker of pain that appeared whenever family was mentioned. Then it disappeared immediately. "You still think revenge fixes grief," I said quietly. Something dangerous shifted in his expression. "You know nothing about grief." The words came sharper than expected. Personal. Interesting. For the first time since meeting him, I saw emotion break through his control. Tiny. But real. I should've stopped there. Instead I leaned forward slightly. "And you know everything about it?" His jaw tightened. The air between us became heavy. Charged. Matteo looked like he wanted to disappear. Salvatore stared at me for a long moment before speaking again. "Careful, Lena." My name sounded wrong in his mouth. Too deep. Too intimate. Like he enjoyed saying it. I hated the way it affected me. "What?" I asked softly. "Truth makes you uncomfortable?" One side of his mouth lifted slightly. Not amusement. Warning. "You keep mistaking my patience for weakness." Heat curled low in my stomach despite the threat. God. Something was seriously wrong with me. This man was dangerous. Unstable. Capable of murder without blinking. So why did every stare between us feel like foreplay? I pushed my chair back suddenly. "I need air." "You need guards." "I need my freedom." "You lost that the second your family made enemies with mine." Anger exploded through me instantly. "My family's sins are not mine." Something changed in his eyes. Fast. Sharp. Like those words meant more than they should've. Interesting. Before I could figure it out, he stood from the table slowly. Tall. Controlled. Terrifying. "I have work," he said calmly. "You stay inside the east wing." I laughed bitterly. "There's the prison warden." His gaze dragged slowly over my face. Then lower. Awareness flashed between us so suddenly it almost stole my breath. "You'd know if I was treating you like a prisoner." The tension in his voice hit me like a touch. Possessive. Dark. Dangerously male. My pulse jumped traitorously. And the bastard noticed. Of course he noticed. Salvatore stepped closer. Close enough for me to smell his cologne. Smoke. Leather. Danger. "You should stop looking at me like that," he murmured. I swallowed hard. "Like what?" "Like you're trying to decide whether to stab me or kiss me." My breath caught instantly. The room went silent. Matteo looked horrified. And Salvatore looked calm. But his eyes were burning Before I could answer, a loud alarm suddenly exploded through the fortress. Red lights flashed instantly across the walls. Guards started shouting downstairs. And Charlie's voice roared through the security speakers: "Boss, we have incoming boats approaching the island.”
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