Chapter2: The Gilded Cage
1450 Words
The world was blurry to ivy as Walker’s armored SUV tore through the streets of Newyork. Inside the car, the silence was heavy, broken only by the hum of the engine and Ivy’s heart beat
She sat far away from Walker as the leather bench allowed, her hands shaking on her lap. She had just watched her life burn down in a matter of seconds. The intruders, the gunfire and hard realization that her own brother had marked her for slaughter it was all too much that she couldn't bear it.
"Drink this,Walker said.
He didn't look at her. He was pouring amber liquid into a glass from the built-in bar. His movements were swift, aware of the adrenaline that was currently threatening to choke Ivy.
"I don't want a drink. I want to know where you’re taking me," Ivy snapped, her voice cracking.
"And I want to know why you were in my house. You didn't just 'happen to be there to play hero, Mr. Jordan.
Walker finally turned his head. The streetlights outside shone across his face, highlighting the sharp, predatory angle of his jaw. "I don’t play hero, Ivy.
And you’re right I was there because I’ve been tracking your brother’s debts for months. He’s been selling off Mondragon assets to some very dangerous people in the underworld to fund his son’s habits. When he ran out of assets, he offered them the only thing left and that’s your life."
He slid the glass across the leather toward her. "Drink. You’re in shock."
Ivy ignored the glass.
"You said you wanted me 'bound' to you. What does that mean?
If you’re looking for a payout from the estate, you’re out of luck. The will has a clause if I die or disappear, the funds are frozen forever”
A dark, amused smirk pulled at the corner of Walker’s mouth. It wasn't a kind look. "I have more money than I can spend in three lifetimes, Ivy. I don’t want your fortune.
I want the leverage that comes with the Mondragon name.
And," he leaned closer, his cologne filling her senses,
"I’ve wanted you since the night of the Met Gala three years ago, when you looked at me like I was something you’d stepped on if given the chance"
Ivy’s breath seized. She remembered that night. She had seen the way he looked at her not with the polite interest of a businessman, but with the raw, terrifying hunger of a man who saw something he intended to own. She had turned her back on him then but she couldn't do that now.
The SUV drove into the private underground garage of walker’s mansion,The doors opened, and Walker stepped out, extending a hand. It wasn't an invitation, it was a demand.
Ivy took it, her skin tingling where it touched his. He led her to a private elevator that ascended with speed. When the doors opened, she stepped out into a penthouse that looked less like a home and more like a fortress of glass and steel.
"This is your home now," Walker said, tossing his jacket onto a Mies van der Rohe daybed. "My security team is the best in the world. Kristoff can’t touch you here. His creditors can’t touch you here."
"And what about you" Ivy asked, standing in the center of the large living room. "Who protects me from you?
Walker walked toward her, his footsteps silent on the floor.
He stopped so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. He reached out, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw, a gesture that was deceptively tender.
"No one," he whispered. "That’s the deal, Ivy. I save your life, I keep your empire from being torn apart by your family, and in exchange, you belong to me. Entirely and Legally.
"You want a marriage, she breathed, the realization hitting her like a blow.
"I want a merger. One that ensures the Mondragon and Jordan interests are inseparable, It protects you, and it gives me the final piece of the New York skyline I’ve been missing."
He stepped back, his expression returning to a mask of professional coldness. "There are clothes in the master suite. My staff will arrive in the morning to handle the legal filings. Get some sleep, Ivy.
Tomorrow, the world finds out you’re my fiancée. It’s the only thing that will keep the hitmen away from your door."
Ivy didn't sleep. She spent the night pacing round her bedroom, watching the city outside. She felt like a bird that had flown out of a fire and straight into a golden cage.
By dawn, the reality of her situation had settled into her bones. She was trapped. If she left, Kristoff’s men would find her. If she stayed, she was a pawn in Walker’s game.
A soft knock at the door startled her. It wasn't Walker, but a young woman in a sharp suit. "Miss Mondragon? Mr. Jordan is waiting for you in the study. The papers are ready."
Ivy straightened her shoulders, smoothing down the silk dress she had found in the closet. She was a Mondragon. She wouldn't go down without a fight.
She walked into the study to find Walker sitting behind a massive desk, a thick stack of legal documents before him. Standing in the corner was a man she did not recognize he looked younger, with a nervous look and dark circles under his eyes.
"Ivy, this is Milliano Swarvy," Walker said, not looking up from the papers. "Your cousin. He’s been... helpful in documenting your brother’s recent activities."
Milliano gave a weak smile. "Hey, Ivy. Sorry about... everything. Kristoff is out of his mind. He’s got Jordi doing things... bad things.
"Jordi" Ivy felt a wave of horror. Her nephew was barely twenty, but he had been a troubled, violent child. "What do you mean?
"Kristoff used his son to scout the house last night," Walker said
Your own nephew was the one who disabled the alarm system. He’s currently hiding out in a drug den in Queens, waiting for instructions to finish the job.
Ivy sank into a chair, the room spinning. "My own family...
"Which is why you’re going to sign this," Walker said, pushing a document toward her. "It’s a power of attorney and a marriage contract. Once this is filed, I have the legal right to use my private security to 'neutralize' any threat to you, including your biological relatives.
Ivy picked up the pen. Her hand shook. "You’re asking me to sign my life away to a stranger."
"I’m asking you to choose the devil you know over the one who wants you in a body bag," Walker countered.
Just as Ivy lowered the pen to the paper, the intercom on Walker’s desk buzzed sharply.
"Sir," a voice came through, sounding strained. "We have a breach in the lobby. It’s not Kristoff. It’s... it’s the cops They have a warrant for Miss Mondragon’s arrest."
Ivy’s head snapped up. "Arrest? For what exactly!!
Walker’s eyes narrowed, his gaze darting to Milliano, who suddenly looked very interested in the floor.
"The murder of Marga Mondragon," the voice on the intercom continued. "They’re claiming they have forensic evidence placing Ivy at the scene with the poison."
The pen dropped from Ivy’s hand, staining the white contract with a blot of black ink. She looked at Walker, her heart stopping. He didn't look surprised. He looked... calculating.
"Walker" she whispered. "You knew this was coming."
The heavy double doors of the study swung open, and a team of federal agents flooded the room, guns drawn.
"Ivy Mondragon, you’re under arrest," the lead agent barked.
Walker stood up slowly, his hands in his pockets. He didn't move to stop them. He didn't even look at her. He looked at the agent and said, "She hasn't signed the marriage contract yet. Technically, she’s still a Mondragon. Do what you have to do."
As the handcuffs shut around Ivy’s wrists, she realized the terrifying truth. Walker had not brought her here to save her. He had brought her here to wait for the trap to spring and he was the one who had set the bait.
"Walker!" she screamed as they dragged her toward the door. "You bastard! You framed me!
He finally looked at her, and the cold obsession in his eyes made her blood turn to ice. "I didn't frame you, Ivy. I’m just making sure that when I finally bail you out, you’ll have nowhere else to go but to me. See you at the arraignment, Mrs. Jordan."
The elevator doors shut, leaving Ivy in the darkness of a sorrowful heart.
- Writer
