THECAGE
1026 Words
Damian's POV
“No… this isn’t right! I’m innocent. I can’t… I can’t…”
She broke further with each syllable that left her mouth. She was restrained within seconds, before she could even think of acting out. I watched her fall to her knees, her face collapsing into itself in mangled knots, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.
She kept calling out, and no one listened — not even her lawyer, who was nonchalantly packing up his things as if she hadn’t just been sentenced to spend the rest of her mortal existence behind bars.
I had noticed how laid-back he had become with time. With each hearing, he took one step backward, not two — subtle enough not to raise suspicion. But for someone like me, who was present at every hearing, absorbing every detail, it was impossible to miss.
“I’m telling you all I didn’t do it! Stop! I didn’t!” Her cries continued to ring loud and clear through the courtroom.
Deep inside me, a small rustle of guilt stirred.
I, of all people, knew without a doubt that she was innocent.
I thought I could come to this courtroom to see how everything went down — maybe give myself some form of closure.
But I always found myself looking at her, even without meaning to. Her hair, once falling in alluring curls; eyes that had gleamed with excitement; dresses that screamed pampered luxury. She was everything but the woman I had met at the bar three months ago.
I told myself seeing her here was a coincidence — that it meant nothing.
While Sebastian was working on covering up our tracks, staying home and doing nothing would have been the smarter course of action. But somehow, I never missed a single day in court. Every time, my eyes drifted to her without fail.
Each appearance, she looked more disheveled than the last. Every hearing carved away a piece of her will to live, hollowing out her eyes until only emptiness remained.
I stepped into the courtroom parking lot, using a secondhand car I had rented to drive there. My real ride was something I couldn’t risk using — wiping off traces mattered too much. I tipped my hat and raised my phone to my ear.
“I can’t do it, Seb,” I confessed to my brother over the line. “We’re going to have to do something about this.”
Aurora's POV
My life was over.
It had been over since that night, but now it was officially stamped and sealed.
A life sentence.
I was going to rot in jail.
One of my worst fears had become reality. I wanted to cry, but no tears came out. My eyes bulged, dry and burning, as if they had already given everything they had.
They were just like me.
Stupid, stupid me — given everything, hoping that at least I would get scraps of love in return. But I couldn’t even have that. I was too greedy to think I could ever be a priority.
I lost it all just wanting the bare minimum.
The father I loved.
The fiancé I adored.
Both gone. And maybe the latter had never really existed at all. With his acting skills, the man I thought cherished me had only been playing a role — benefiting from me until someone better came along. When he found someone else to perform with, he didn’t hesitate to plan my destruction.
He wanted me to take the fall so badly that it reawakened my suspicions about him being the killer.
But then again… why would he go through so much trouble?
Mr. Yates had been perfectly aligned with him for Sofia to take everything.
It made sense for him to benefit.
But to be the one behind the murder felt like a step too far.
I guess I’d never really find out who was responsible for ruining my life.
I’d be too busy rotting away the best years of my life — and every year that followed.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the transport to prison to end, ready to open them and accept that this was how my life was always meant to be.
The weight of the world crushed down on my exhausted shoulders, pulling me into sleep.
But when I woke up, I wasn’t in prison.
I was in a lavishly furnished room — extravagant even by my old standards — lying on a queen-sized bed.
For a brief second, I wanted to believe it had all been a nightmare.
That Sofia showing up had never happened.
That I still had a father who would give me the world, and a fiancé who told me I was as precious as the air he breathed.
The door creaked open in a frantic rush.
I ran forward, throwing my arms around the waist of the person who entered, assuming it was either my adoptive father or Ethan.
“I knew it… I knew it was just a nightmare. I’m so glad it’s over. I’m so glad—”
“You had a nightmare?”
I shoved myself away instantly, like his skin burned me. My head snapped up to confirm whether the unfamiliar voice matched an unfamiliar face.
It did.
Golden locks tied back, shaved at the sides with only the center left long. He was tall, wearing a bulky maroon shirt. I stared at him, frozen.
“Who are you?!” I demanded.
He stepped aside, and another man followed behind him.
“That’s not exactly how you talk to your rescuers.”
I nearly fainted when I saw him.
It was my almost one-night stand.
The last person I had seen before I woke up next to my father’s corpse.
I staggered back as if the air had been knocked from my lungs.
No. It couldn’t be him.
My mind replayed the night in fragments—dim lights, glass in my hand, his voice low and steady. The same face. The same eyes. Panic clawed up my throat.
This wasn’t rescue.
This was the beginning of something I didn’t yet understand.
Trapped.
- Writer
