Chapter2
1031 Words
THE DEVIL’S CAGE
The room was silent. Too silent.
Valerie stood frozen, the weight of Mason's words settling over her like chains.
She couldn't stop thinking about it.
"You’re mine."
No.
No, she wasn’t.
She refused to be.
Her heart pounded, but she kept her spine straight, her chin high.
She had spent her whole life surviving men like him. She would survive this too.
Mason leaned back in his chair, watching her with an infuriating calmness.
His dark eyes studied her,slow and measured, like he was accessing a challenge rather than a woman.
"Sit," he said.
Valerie clenched her fists. "I’d rather stand."
The corner of his mouth twitched, as if amused. "Suit yourself."
He stood, and for the first time, she truly felt the weight of his presence. He gave off so much power, even from his words.
Mason Kingston was tall—towering over her with a quiet, dangerous authority.
His suit, tailored to perfection, did nothing to soften the sheer power coiled beneath his controlled exterior.
She had expected a brute. A monster.
But this?
This was something far worse.
A man who didn’t need to raise his voice to be feared.
A man who could ruin her with nothing but patience.
That pissed her off beyond imagination.
"You don’t speak unless I tell you to," he said casually, as if they were discussing something as simple as dinner plans.
"You don’t run. You don’t disobey. You are here because of your father’s mistakes, but make no mistake, Valerie–"
His voice dipped lower. More like in a warning tone
"You are mine now. And I don’t tolerate defiance."
Rage burned through her veins. "Then you’re in for a disappointment."
Faster than she could react, he moved.
One second, he was a few feet away. The next, he was in front of her, his fingers gripping her chin tightly, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.
Her breath caught.
Not because of fear—but because of the way he looked at her.
Like he already owned her.
Like he was simply waiting for her to realize it.
"You think you can fight me, darling?”His voice was a whisper, but it held more weight than a shouted threat. "Go ahead. I enjoy a good fight."
Valerie’s pulse roared in her ears. Damn him. Damn him for being so calm. So in control.
She wrenched her face away, glaring. "Go to hell."
Mason chuckled.
A deep, dark sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
"Sweetheart," he murmured, stepping back, "I’ve been there. And I don’t plan on going back alone."
The guards escorted her to her room—if she could even call it that.
It was beautiful. Lavish. The kind of place a queen might live in.
Marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, a bed so large it could swallow her whole.
But make no mistake—this was a cage.
The doors locked from the outside. The windows, though expansive, didn’t open.
She was trapped.
Valerie exhaled slowly, scanning every inch of the space. Looking for weaknesses.
I will not stay here.
She moved to the wardrobe, ripping it open. Dresses, expensive ones, all in rich, dark colors.
Nothing she owned.
Nothing of hers.
She yanked one off the hanger and flung it onto the floor, her chest heaving.
I won’t be his doll. I won’t be his plaything.
A knock at the door.
She spun, heart hammering.
It wasn’t a guard.
It was him.
Mason leaned against the doorframe, watching her destroy the dress he bought her.
Amusement flickered in his gaze. "Not your style?"
She folded her arms. "I don’t belong to you, I'm not yours”.
He smirked. "No, darling, that's where you're wrong.You belonged to me the moment your father handed you over, you're mine.
Valerie’s nails dug into her palms. "I’m not a possession."
"Not yet." He pushed off the doorframe, stepping toward her. Unhurried. Unbothered.
She refused to back away.
"If you think I’ll obey you, you’re mistaken," she spat.
Adrian reached for her hand, his grip firm but not cruel.
Valerie knew she could pull away.
But instead, she held his gaze and tightened her grip.
If this was a game, she would play to win.
His smirk deepened. "Good girl."
And then—he let her go.
That was what terrified her the most.
That he didn’t need to force her.
That he was waiting for her to come to him willingly.
She waited until the house was silent.
Until the guards change shifts.
Until she was completely sure that Mason had retired to his wing of the estate.
Then, she moved.
Slipping out of bed, she padded to the door. It was locked, of course. But that didn’t stop her.
She had stolen a bobby pin from the vanity earlier that evening.
She crouched, working the lock with shaky hands.
Click.
The door creaked open.
Her pulse raced.
She darted into the hallway, pressing herself against the wall, scanning for guards. No one.
This was her chance.
She moved quickly, silently, heart slamming against her ribs as she neared the grand staircase.
Almost there.
Almost—
A shadow moved.
She barely had time to react before a strong hand clamped around her wrist.
Cold fear shot through her.
No.
No, no, no.
She turned—and met Mason’s eyes.
His grip was firm, unshakable. His expression?
Amused.
Like he had been waiting for this.
"You didn’t actually think you could escape me, did you?" he murmured.
Valerie yanked at his grip, but it was useless.
His fingers curled around her chin, tilting her face up.
"I told you, darling," he whispered, his lips inches from hers.
“You can try to run. But I always find what’s mine”.
And before she could breathe—before she could react—he kissed her.
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t gentle.
It was a war.
Teeth. Dominance. A battle for control.
And the worst part?
She kissed him back.
Because even though she hated h
im…
Even though he was the devil himself…
Something deep inside her whispered the truth.
She was already his.
- Writer
