Claimed By The Ruthless Don

The Marriage Cage

Aria's POV

Three days passed in a blur.

I stayed in a hotel room those three days. Not my apartment. Dominic had arranged for me to stay at an expensive hotel in Manhattan until the wedding. Marco stood guard outside my door the entire time.

I wasn't allowed to leave. Wasn't allowed to call anyone. I was completely isolated.

On the morning of the third day, a woman arrived with a bag.

"For the ceremony," she said simply, hanging it on the closet door before leaving.

I unzipped the bag slowly.

Inside was a dress. Not white. Cream-colored, simple, elegant. Expensive. It was beautiful, but it wasn't a wedding dress. Not really. It was just a nice dress you'd wear to a business dinner.

Because that's what this was. Business.

I showered and put on the dress. It fit perfectly.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a bride. But I didn't feel like one.

Marco knocked on the door at exactly ten AM.

"It's time, Miss Monroe."

The ceremony was held in a small office at City Hall. No church. No music. No guests.

Just a judge, a lawyer, and one witness I didn't recognize.

Dominic was already there when I arrived. He wore a black suit, perfectly tailored as always. He looked at me when I walked in, his eyes sweeping over the dress, but his expression gave nothing away.

"Miss Monroe," he said with a slight nod.

The judge was an older man with gray hair and reading glasses. He looked bored, like he performed a dozen weddings a day and ours was nothing special.

"Shall we begin?" he asked.

I stood next to Dominic in front of the judge's desk. Marco stood behind us as a witness.

The judge opened a small book and began reading. The words washed over me. I barely heard them. Something about marriage and commitment and lawful union.

It all felt fake. Empty.

"Do you, Dominic Vercetti, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," Dominic said. His voice was calm, steady.

"And do you, Aria Monroe, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

I opened my mouth but no sound came out.

Everyone was looking at me.

Say it, I told myself. Just say the words and get this over with.

"I do," I whispered.

"By the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

That was it. No kiss. No celebration. No congratulations.

Dominic signed the marriage certificate. Then I signed it. The judge stamped it and handed Dominic a copy.

"Congratulations," the judge said without any real warmth.

We walked out of the office in silence. I am married now. Mrs. Aria Vercetti. The name felt foreign, wrong.

Marco led us to the SUV waiting outside. Dominic held the door open for me. I climbed in, and he followed, sitting across from me rather than beside me.

We drove in silence. I stared out the window, watching the city pass by.

The SUV pulled up to a building I'd never seen before. It was tall, modern, all glass and steel. Armed guards stood at the entrance.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Vercetti," Marco said as he opened my door.

Home. That word again.

I followed Dominic through the entrance. More security. They nodded at Dominic as we passed. One of them scanned us with what looked like a metal detector.

We took an elevator to the top floor. Dominic used a key card to access it.

The elevator opened directly into the penthouse.

I stepped out and my breath caught.

The space was enormous. With floor-to-ceiling windows offering a view of the entire city. Everything was modern, expensive, and cold. Black leather furniture. Glass tables. Abstract art on the walls.

"Your room is this way," Dominic said, walking down a hallway.

I followed him. We passed several doors before he stopped at one and opened it.

"This is yours," he said.

I stepped inside. The room was huge, bigger than my entire apartment had been. A king-sized bed dominated the space, covered in expensive-looking bedding. There was a sitting area with a sofa and chair. A desk. A massive closet that was already filled with clothes I'd never seen before.

"The bathroom is through there," Dominic said, pointing to a door.

"You'll find everything you need. If there's anything missing, tell Marco, and he'll arrange it."

I walked to the window. Bulletproof, I remembered. Everything was bulletproof.

"My room is at the other end of the hall," Dominic continued.

"We won't disturb each other. There's a full staff. A cook, housekeepers. They come during the day. At night, it's just security."

I turned to look at him.

"How many guards?"

"Enough," he said.

"You're safe here, Aria. No one can get to you."

It was the first time he'd used my first name. It sounded strange coming from his mouth.

"There are rules you need to follow," he said, his voice becoming more formal. "You don't leave this penthouse without Marco and a full security detail. You don't contact anyone from your old life without my permission. You don't ask questions about my business. And most importantly, you don't try to leave."

"I signed a contract," I said quietly.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Good." He walked toward the door, then paused.

"Dinner is at seven. A dress code will be provided. I have business to attend to."

Then he was gone, closing the door behind him.

I stood alone in my new room, in my new life, feeling completely empty.

I walked to the closet and opened it. Rows and rows of expensive clothes. Dresses, blouses, pants, all in my size. Shoes lined the bottom. Everything designed, everything perfect.

Everything I never asked for.

I changed out of the cream dress and put on simple jeans and a T-shirt from the closet. At least those felt somewhat normal.

I spent the rest of the day exploring my room. The bathroom was like a spa, with a huge soaking tub and a shower that had more settings than I could count. The closet had a section just for jewelry and accessories.

Everything was beautiful and expensive and cold.

After dinner, I went straight to my room. I lay down and tried to sleep, but my mind wouldn't quiet.

Then I heard it.

BANG.

A gunshot. Loud, close.

I sat up straight, my heart pounding.

BANG. BANG.

Two more shots.

I threw myself off the bed and onto the floor, my whole body shaking.

What was happening? Were we under attack? Was someone trying to kill us?

I crawled to the corner of the room, pressing myself against the wall, trying to make myself small.

More gunshots. They sounded like they were coming from somewhere else in the building. Maybe below us.

My phone was on the nightstand. I crawled over and grabbed it, my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold it.

Should I call someone? The police? Marco?

I waited, my heart hammering in my chest.

Then silence.

Long, horrible silence. Minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. No one came to check on me. No alarms went off. No one screamed. Slowly, carefully, I stood up and walked to the window. The city looked normal. Peaceful. Like nothing had happened.

Maybe the gunshots hadn't been as close as I thought. Maybe they'd come from the street below.

But deep down, I knew better. This building was a fortress. Those shots had come from inside.

I climbed back onto the bed, pulling the covers around myself, but I didn't lie down. I sat there, looking at the door, waiting for something else to happen.

Nothing did.

Eventually, exhaustion pulled at me, but I was too afraid to sleep.

Is this how I'm going to live for one year? I thought.

Locked in a fortress. Surrounded by guards. Hearing gunshots in the night and not knowing if I'm safe or in danger.

What have I gotten myself into?

The question echoed in my mind as I sat there in the darkness, alone and terrified. I'd thought marrying Dominic would save my life.

But now I wasn't so sure. Now I wondered if I'd just traded one death for a slower, more terrible one.