The Golden Cage
1024 Words
Lena could barely breathe. The chilling message on the phone wouldn't stop echoing in her mind. Fingers trembling, she stared at Damian, searching his face for answers he wouldn't give.
"They know me," she whispered. Her voice cracked, the edge of fear slicing through every word. "This is about my father, isn't it? Damian, what the hell did he do? Who are these people?"
Damian didn't look at her. He smashed the phone, fragments glittering across the table like angry stars. Rage twisted his features, sharper and more frightening than anything Lena had ever seen. He didn't even try to soften it.
"They don't matter," he spat, voice low and lethal. "They're done. They're as good as dead."
Without warning, he snatched Lena's arm and hauled her to her feet. It wasn't gentle. It was the kind of grip that told her she didn't have a choice and she'd better not argue.
"We're getting out of here," he said.
Lena tried to protest, glancing at the blood seeping through Damian's tuxedo jacket. "You need a hospital. You're bleeding!"
He shook his head. "I have my own doctors. Move."
He led her through the chaos sirens blaring, crowds shouting, police everywhere-but they slipped out the back, unseen. Down in the garage, a black SUV waited, engine already humming. Getting inside felt like diving underwater: everything muffled, everyone holding their breath.
Nobody spoke during the ride. Damian stared out the window, jaw clamped tight, while Lena curled herself into the far corner, pressing her palm to her stomach as if she could shield the baby just by wishing hard enough. The prayer tumbling in her mind never stopped. Please let the baby be okay. Please.
Twenty minutes later, the SUV slid into the secret underground parking lot beneath Knight Penthouse Tower. Seconds after the engine died, Damian ushered her straight into an express elevator, rising dizzyingly fast to the top floor.
When the doors opened, Lena nearly stumbled. The penthouse looked like something from a magazine-soaring glass, sharp lines, a view that stretched forever. But despite the beauty, something about it was cold. Unwelcoming. The kind of place where the silence felt heavy, almost judgmental.
Damian pointed to the gray velvet sofa. "Sit."
She hesitated, but a man in a medical coat appeared, holding a black bag. He wasn't flashy or friendly-just efficient. "Mr. Knight, your security called. Sit, please, so I can look at that shoulder."
Damian peeled off his wrecked jacket and shirt, tossing them aside. Lena glanced away, heat rising in her cheeks. Even bruised and bloodied, his body was intimidating, hard muscle and scars that hinted at things nobody talked about.
"Check her first," Damian ordered, ice in his voice.
The doctor blinked, confused. "Sir?"
Damian repeated himself, his stare glittering like knives. "Check her first. She was thrown to the ground-make sure the pregnancy's unharmed."
Lena looked up-surprised, scared, and somehow grateful all at once. It didn't matter that Damian still doubted her. He was protecting her. Or maybe it was just about control.
"I'm okay, really," Lena tried to steady herself, but her voice sounded thin.
The doctor checked her pulse and flashed a penlight in her eyes, quietly thorough. "She's in shock and her heart rate's up, but physically, she and the baby are fine. She needs rest-and food."
Damian just nodded and finally let the doctor patch up his shoulder. Not once did he flinch. Not when the needle dug in or when the gash was stitched closed. He just watched Lena, his gaze burning holes through her.
When the doctor left, silence pressed in from every corner. Lena couldn't stand it. She got to her feet, feeling the weakness in her legs. "Thank you, Mr. Knight. But now that I know I'm alright, I need to go to the hospital, check on my mom, and then get home."
She moved toward the elevator, hoping for space. Damian blocked her path almost instantly, predator-fast, leaving her caught between him and the penthouse's windows.
"You're not leaving," Damian said, his words clipped and absolute.
Lena blinked, anger starting to fight through her fear. "You can't keep me here! I have a job-I need to see my mom!"
Damian crossed his arms, cold and calm. "Her bills are covered for the next year. Private suite, full security. My assistant handled it an hour ago."
Lena stared, completely stunned. "You paid for everything? Why?"
Damian stepped closer, looming over her, cedar and copper wrapping around her senses. "Because if your mom's safe, you don't have a reason to leave. You stay here. With me. Under my watch."
That was the last straw. Lena snapped. "You can't do this! You think I'm a liar and a gold-digger. So why do you care if something happens to me?"
He pulled her against him, his grip iron, his chest warm but unyielding. She tried to squirm away, but he wouldn't let go.
"Because if anyone else so much as touches you," Damian growled, his eyes wild, "I'll burn this city to the ground. You're mine, Lena. Your father took everything from me. Now, every part of you belongs to me."
Fury and frustration slashed through her, hot and slippery. "I am not your revenge. Let me go!"
He only tightened his hold, his eyes dropping to her lips. "Never," he breathed.
Before she could scream, he kissed her-rough, demanding, hungry. Lena tried to push him away, but the fight drained from her. Heat flooded her body, then her mind. Her hands slipped around his shoulders; the anger melted into something sharper.
And then, the penthouse doors crashed open with a bang so loud it felt like the sky breaking.
"Damian! What is the meaning of this?!"
Suddenly, the air was electric. Damian broke the kiss, slowly, bruised and breathing hard, his eyes darkening as he turned.
Victoria stormed in, flanked by security guards who looked sick with nerves. But she had company. Marcus stood beside her, lips twisted into an ugly grin.
"You see, Victoria?" Marcus sneered. "Your billionaire fiancé is sleeping with my ex. I told you - even trash can't resist him."
- Writer
