Cage Bird：The Boss’s Little Dove

Runaway Bird

Rana Clarke

Bang！

The pop of a champagne cork echoed through the air, and I seized the moment to push open the back door and dash outside. Matthew was already waiting out front; the moment he saw me, he grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the car.

We didn’t stop running until we reached the vehicle. Panting, I looked at him, feeling a mix of guilt and gratitude.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess.”

He caught his breath, his grip tightening on my shoulders. “Don’t apologize. After all this time, don’t you realize how I feel about you?”

I nodded, avoiding his words and forcing a smile, but my brow furrowed. “You’re sure they didn’t see us?”

Matthew nodded confidently, reassuring me. He knew I was talking about Marcus—my stepbrother.

Marcus and Clarissa, the children of my stepmother, had tormented me ever since my father began favoring them. And now, by running away, I was finally escaping this cold, suffocating house, breaking free from the constant insults and abuse from my stepbrother and stepsister.

I stepped forward and hugged him, feeling the comfort of his support. He gently patted my back before pulling away and opening the car trunk.

“Hide here for a while. Victor will be looking for you, but he’ll never think to check the guests’ cars. Once he orders a search, I’ll create a distraction and drive you away.”

“Alright, be careful.”

I climbed into the trunk, settling into a relatively comfortable position. As Matthew slowly closed the trunk, the world around me went dark. His footsteps faded, and soon everything was silent.

As the minutes ticked by, memories began to flood my mind. Today was supposed to be my engagement party with Victor—Matthew’s uncle. A day that now felt like a distant, painful dream.

Victor Torrance was the leader of a notorious gang, and my father, eager to curry favor with his power, had arranged for me to marry him. But I refused to be a pawn in his game to secure the family’s interests. Ever since my stepmother entered our home, my father had stopped caring for me. Whether it was my stepmother’s cruel treatment or the constant insults from Marcus and Clarissa, my father never once stepped in to defend me.

his marriage was even more absurd—Victor was nearly the same age as my father and had been married before. I had heard his first wife died, overwhelmed by the stress of his cruel treatment. He treated women like disposable objects, caring only about his own gain, much like my father.

It was nothing more than a political alliance, with me as nothing more than a pawn in their power game.

I couldn’t accept it. Even if he was the leader of the city’s gang, I wasn’t going to marry him. No one could force me.

As time passed, I grew more anxious while waiting in the trunk. Matthew still hadn’t returned. I pulled out my phone, but it was dead, and my anxiety only intensified.

Had he been discovered? What would Victor do to him?

Since my mother left, Matthew had become my closest friend. He was always there for me, and when he learned I didn’t want to marry his uncle, he supported me and helped plan my escape.

I still remembered the apologetic look on his face when he told me that if he were the gang leader, he could protect me.

Matthew’s father had died in an accident three years ago, and his mother had gone mad as a result. She was still in a psychiatric hospital. His uncle took over the gang leadership, and I once asked Matthew why he didn’t take it. He said he was too young and couldn’t handle the responsibility.

I suspected the real reason was that Matthew didn’t have the ruthless ambition needed for such a position.

As I lay there, my eyelids grew heavier in the darkness, and slowly, I drifted off to sleep.

I don’t know how long I had been asleep, but suddenly, the screeching sound of urgent braking jolted me awake. My body slammed violently into the metal of the car’s trunk, a dull pain spreading instantly through me like an alarm ringing in my mind.

I opened my eyes wide, disoriented. The cramped space was filled with the musty scent of old leather and the cold, metallic odor of the car. My limbs were numb from being curled up for so long, and every inch of my skin felt the suffocating pressure of the confined space. The darkness enveloped me completely, but the faint vibrations of the car and the sound of its wheels rolling over the ground reminded me that the vehicle was still moving.

Fear surged through me like a tidal wave—what was happening? Who was driving? Didn’t Matthew say he’d come back for me after a while? Had he been discovered?

The thin air in the sealed trunk made it hard to breathe. It felt as though a massive stone was pressing down on my chest, and I had no idea where I was being taken or what awaited me.

I reached out in the dark, my fingers brushing against the rough metal edge of the trunk. The friction was agonizing in the silence, my heart racing even faster with the fear of being trapped.

“Open the damn trunk!” I muttered under my breath, my voice trembling with anxiety. I pushed against the trunk lid with all my strength, but it wouldn’t budge. The cold metal felt like a silent enemy, keeping me locked in the suffocating dark.

Then, suddenly, I felt the car come to a stop. There was a click, and the trunk’s lock released.

I strained my ears and heard footsteps—someone had gotten out of the car. But the sound didn’t grow closer as I expected; instead, it faded, growing quieter with each passing second.

When the footsteps finally disappeared, I gathered all my strength and pushed with everything I had. The trunk lid finally popped open, and blinding light flooded in, forcing me to squint. As my eyes adjusted, I tilted my head back, and the fresh air rushed into my lungs, sweeping away the suffocating pressure.

It felt like I had been reborn. I gasped for air, my chest heaving with each breath.

Once I calmed myself, I looked around and realized I had been brought to a completely unfamiliar city. The car was parked on a busy street, and I had no idea when the owner would return. So, I carefully stood up, feeling the strain on my body, and slowly climbed out of the trunk.

A dull pain throbbed at my temples, but I managed to steady myself on shaky legs. A biting coldness crept up from the ground, and I pressed my hand against the car for support.

Looking down at my bare feet, I bent down to retrieve the high heels that had fallen into the trunk, slipping them back on. That’s when I realized I was still wearing my long formal dress. The hem of the skirt dragged on the ground, hindersome—just like that ridiculous marriage arrangement.

Frustrated, I grabbed the edge of the skirt, yanked it with force, and tossed the torn fabric aside. The gown was now a short skirt.

“This feels much better,” I muttered to myself.

With the tight dress no longer restricting me, my steps grew lighter. As I walked, I kept scanning the unfamiliar city around me, the foreign surroundings twisting my gut with unease.

I still had no idea what had happened to Matthew. If Victor found out that he’d helped me escape, what would he do to him? Shaking my head, I tried to push those dark thoughts aside. Regardless of whether Matthew had been exposed or not, I had fled the engagement banquet, and Victor would stop at nothing to find me. He would be searching everywhere.