Bound to the Ruthless Billionaire Episode 6:
936 Words
by Rhemita Stories
Episode 6 – The Cage with Golden Bars
The morning sun slipped through the enormous glass windows of the Knight mansion, coating the marble floor in honeyed light. It was too beautiful for the way Elena felt—like a caged bird dressed in silk.
Her eyes fluttered open to the sound of the ocean waves crashing in the distance. The soft hum of the city below seemed to mock her quiet misery. She was lying in a room too perfect, too pristine, too cold. Everything smelled faintly of cedar and him—Andrian Knight.
She sat up slowly, running her fingers through her tangled hair. The events of the previous night still lingered in her mind. His words. His nearness. That strange moment when she’d thought he might kiss her, then walked away as if disgusted by his own impulse.
Her heart hadn’t stopped racing since.
The door clicked open.
“Good morning, Mrs. Knight,” a maid said politely. “Mr. Knight requested that your breakfast be served in the garden.”
Requested. Not asked. Not invited.
Elena forced a small nod, her voice barely steady. “Thank you.”
---
The garden looked like something out of a luxury magazine—roses, trimmed hedges, fountains, and white marble statues that gleamed in the light. A full breakfast was laid out, untouched. She sat, staring at the steaming tea, trying not to think of how different her life had become in just a few days.
When Andrian appeared, the world seemed to fall silent. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, his dark hair slicked back, his cold gray eyes unreadable. He adjusted his cufflinks, looking every inch the ruthless billionaire she’d been warned about.
“Eat,” he said simply, sitting across from her.
She lifted her chin, her stubbornness showing. “You could at least say good morning.”
His lips curved slightly—not a smile, but close. “I don’t waste words on formality.”
“Then why bother having breakfast with me at all?” she asked, forcing her tone steady.
He leaned back, eyes glinting. “Because I want to see if my wife can obey basic instructions.”
Her breath caught. “I’m not one of your employees, Andrian.”
“No,” he said quietly, “you’re someone I own. Temporarily.”
The words burned like acid. “Own?” she repeated, disbelief and fury mixing in her chest. “I’m a person, not a property.”
He didn’t blink. “Then start acting like it. Stop making this marriage harder than it already is.”
---
When he finally left for work, Elena felt the air loosen around her. She wandered through the mansion, counting her steps like a prisoner marking time. She wanted to breathe, to step outside, to do something—anything—that made her feel alive again.
She found Maya’s number on her phone and hesitated. She missed her friend, her laughter, her life. But before she could call, a deep voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Mrs. Knight,” said a man in uniform—mid-thirties, polite, eyes lowered. “I’m your assigned driver. Mr. Knight instructed that you should not leave the property unless I accompany you.”
She blinked. “Assigned driver?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll be at your service whenever you wish to go out.”
Her lips parted in disbelief. “So I need permission to leave my own house now?”
He looked apologetic. “I just follow orders, ma’am.”
Elena forced a smile. “Of course you do.”
---
That afternoon, she tried to talk to Andrian over the phone. “I want to work,” she said the moment he answered.
“No.” His tone was clipped, final.
“You didn’t even think about it.”
“I don’t need to. You don’t work.”
Her voice rose. “You can’t decide that for me! I need to pay off my father’s debt somehow.”
“You already are,” he said darkly. “With your presence in my house.”
Silence stretched between them. Elena’s throat tightened. “That’s not fair, Andrian.”
“Life isn’t fair, Elena. You of all people should know that.” Then the line went dead.
---
By evening, the sky outside turned orange and pink. Elena stood on the balcony, staring at the city lights. She could see the freedom out there—people walking, laughing, living—and yet she was trapped behind glass and gold.
She didn’t notice him enter until he spoke.
“Still trying to escape?”
She spun around. He stood there, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened. He looked exhausted but still carried that dangerous, commanding aura.
“I wasn’t—”
He crossed the room in two strides, his eyes locking with hers. “I can see it in your eyes,” he said quietly. “You hate this place. You hate me.”
Her heart pounded. “Maybe I do.”
His jaw tightened. For a moment, she thought he might shout. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice dropping. “Then hate me all you want, Elena. But don’t ever think of leaving. You belong here.”
“I don’t belong anywhere with you,” she whispered.
He smirked faintly, leaning down until their faces were inches apart. “We’ll see about that.”
He turned and walked out, leaving her trembling—not from fear, but from the confusion of what she felt every time he came near.
To be continued…
- Writer
