Chapter Nine: Velvet Cages and Silent Guardians
1127 Words
Chapter 9: Velvet Cages and Silent Guardians
Zara stared out the window of her room, the afternoon too bright for her tired eyes. The events of the past few days still wrapped tightly around her like a second skin—uncomfortable, suffocating, and inescapable. She thought today would be like the others: dull, tense, and confusing. But she was wrong.
A knock echoed through her room.
Before she could answer, the door opened, and Adrian stepped inside, his ever-confident grin in place. He leaned against the frame, arms crossed.
"You're coming with us tonight," he said casually.
Zara blinked, unsure if she heard him right. "Where?"
"Party. Something formal. You’ll be our escort."
Her heart skipped. “No.”
Luca entered just then, expression unreadable. Matteo followed, always calculating with those sharp eyes.
"You will," Matteo said. "This isn’t a negotiation."
"I’m not your puppet," she hissed.
"No, you're not," Luca replied quietly. “But you’re under our roof, and until we decide otherwise, you follow our rules.”
Adrian smirked. “You should be flattered. We don’t take just anyone out.”
Before she could protest again, three women entered the room with rolling suitcases, garment bags, and a full makeup kit.
“What is this?” Zara asked, stepping back in shock.
“Your team,” Adrian said with a wink.
“They’ll get you ready.”
Zara wanted to scream, but she was frozen in place. Her throat tightened as the women gently ushered her toward a seat and began unpacking tools she’d only seen in movies.
Brushes, curling irons, lip kits, powders, palettes—the room became a flurry of color and precision.
She had never been touched like this before. All her life, she’d dressed herself, braided her own hair, and scrubbed her face with nothing but soap and cold water. No one had ever pampered her—certainly not like this.
As one woman carefully brushed blush onto her cheeks, Zara's eyes watered. Not from sadness—but from the overwhelming strangeness of it all. The attention. The gentle hands. The false luxury. It didn’t feel real. She was a girl from the ashes being wrapped in velvet.
When she was done dressing—with makeup perfectly blended, hair cascading like liquid silk, and a deep navy gown that shimmered with every breath—she descended the stairs slowly.
The three men stood at the base, dressed sharply in tuxedos that matched their personalities—Luca’s suit was all-black and understated, Matteo’s had silver detail, and Adrian’s had a playful, dark red trim.
They all looked up.
And paused.
Zara noticed the hesitation in their eyes. They didn’t speak. Didn’t compliment. But she saw something shift—an unspoken surprise they quickly buried beneath their usual masks.
“Let’s go,” Matteo said, voice smoother than usual.
They led her out into the waiting car. The ride was quiet—tense, not from hostility, but something deeper. None of them said a word. Only the engine hummed beneath them, and Zara’s thoughts roared louder than ever.
Why are they doing this? Why take me with them? Why make me look like this… like someone they care about?
The mansion they arrived at was massive, dripping with wealth. Cars lined the entrance, chandeliers glittered from within, and men in suits mingled with women in sparkling gowns.
As they stepped inside, Zara’s nerves tightened. She didn’t belong here. She felt like glass in a room full of diamonds. People turned to look. She walked between the three men.
Whispers followed
"They brought someone new"
"She's stunning..... looks foreign "
"Where did they find her"
Adrian looped his arm around hers, his charm dialed up to full. “Just smile, sweetheart. They already envy you.”
She tried. She really tried.
But the longer they stayed, the more eyes she felt crawling over her skin. People whispered. Men stared. Women glared.
Zara managed to stay near the trio, clutching her champagne glass more like a weapon than a drink. But at one point, the crowd surged between them, and she lost sight of all three.
Alone.
She was feeling really nervous because she haven't been in this type of fancy party before and now she was standing here alone.
she dropped her glass on the side staring at the huge hall and also looking to find the restroom.
she found it.
She raised her gown walking slowly there because she's to nervous and can fall ... she felt someone following her but when she turns around she only see people talking to themselves.
Finally she's inside the girls restroom, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and touched her face.
"is this me?" she thought to her self, her skin is glowing, her body in the most expensive dress, her neck wearing diamond , her feet in a beautiful shoe not the one she has worn for years ....
She was brought out of her trance when a hand touched her back.
“You look like you don’t belong,” a man murmured into her ear.
Zara froze. He was tall, older, reeking of power and liquor. His grip tightened on her waist.
“Let go,” she said, voice trembling.
He laughed. “You think you’re untouchable because you came in with them? They collect girls like toys.”
Panic seized her. She looked around, but no one can help they in the restroom.
“Don’t touch me! why are u here, what do you want from me .. Let me go!” she barked, trying to break free.
The man’s hand caught her wrist.
she didn't know tears full her eyes, she's tired of this ... all her life men has harassed her like this and no one comes to her aid and now it will all happen again.
“Let her go,” a deadly voice said.
She turned. Luca stood behind them, eyes like winter ice. Matteo and Adrian flanked him.
The man let go instantly.
“She was alone—”
“You touched what isn’t yours,” Matteo said coldly.
Adrian moved first. Not with violence, but with that terrifying charm. “You have five seconds to walk away before I change my mind about letting you keep your hands.”
The man backed off, muttering apologies.
Zara stood frozen, tears rolling down her face , heart pounding, her body still tense from fear and fell to the ground. And then, like magnets, the three surrounded her. Protective. Possessive.
She swallowed, looking at them.
They came…
She hated how her heart ached.
Do they care? Or is it just control?
As they guided her silently back toward the exit, her head spun .
Tears still rolling out.
- Writer
