The cage
1037 Words
The pen felt heavier than it should.
Aria stared at the contract like it might bite her.
“This is insane,” she muttered.
“And yet you’re still here,” Lucian replied calmly.
She thought about it.
He wasn’t wrong.
That made it worse.
She skimmed the document's pages and pages of rules that clearly stated Obey. Maintain appearances. No personal interference. No emotional involvement.
She paused.
“You really think this is how people work?” she asked.
“I don’t deal with people,” he said. “I deal with outcomes.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “I’m not a business deal.”
“No,” he agreed softly.
“You’re a solution.”
Something in her chest twisted.
“Sign it,” he said.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the pen.
This was it.
No turning back.
Her mother’s face flashed in her mind.
Weak. Pale and Fighting.
That was all it took.
She signed.
Three days later
Aria stood in front of a mirror she barely recognized.
The woman staring back at her wasn’t the girl from the bus stop.
She looked… expensive. Elegant. Controlled.
“Stand still.”
Aria stiffened as the stylist adjusted her dress.
“I can stand on my own,” she muttered.
“Not in his world, you can’t,” the woman replied.
Her stomach ached.
His world.
She hated the sound of that.
The wedding was small and private.
No family from his side.
Only a few important figures.
One of them was a man with a warming smile and sharp eyes. He stepped closer to Lucian.
“Congratulations,” he said smoothly.
Lucian didn’t smile. “Spare me.”
The man chuckled, turning to Aria. “You must be the bride.”
She nodded slightly.
“I’m Victor Hale,” he said. “Lucian’s business partner.”
Something about him made her uneasy.
Like he was watching too closely.
“Be careful,” he added lightly. “He doesn’t play fair.”
Lucian’s voice cut in.
“Victor.”
Victor raised his hands. “Just being friendly.”
He gave a fake smile.
That night, Aria stepped into the penthouse.
Her new home.
It didn’t feel like one.
It felt like a museum.
Cold, Perfect, Untouchable.
“Your room is upstairs,” Lucian said.
She turned. “Our room?”
His gaze hardened.
“No.”
The word was final.
“This is a contract,” he continued. “Don’t misunderstand your position.”
Something inside her snapped slightly.
“Right,” she said quietly.
“Just your wife on paper.”
He didn’t respond to that.
Later that night
Aria couldn’t sleep.
The silence was eating her up.
She stepped out onto the balcony.
The city stretched endlessly before her. So close yet so far away.
“You won’t last.”
She froze.
Lucian stood behind her.
She hadn’t heard him.
“What?” she asked.
“This life,” he said. “It breaks people.”
“I’m not people.” she said.
His gaze lingered on her.
“Don’t try to prove me wrong,” he said.
And walked away.
Aria exhaled slowly.
Something told her.
This wasn’t going to be a marriage.
It was going to be a war.
Next morning came into view.
"Smile.”
Aria forced her lips into something that barely resembled one.
“Wider,” Lucian murmured beside her.
Her nails dug into her palm.
They were at a high-profile event.
Eyes everywhere.
Judging.
Watching.
Waiting for her to fail.
“Relax,” he said softly.
“You’re gripping my arm like you want to break it.”
“Maybe I do,” she muttered.
His lips almost twitched.
Almost.
“Lucian.”
A woman approached.
Tall. Beautiful. Confident.
Her gaze slid towards Aria.
“And this must be the wife,” she said.
The word wife felt strange.
“I’m Vanessa,” she added. “We go way back.”
Something in her tone made Aria uneasy.
Vanessa leaned closer to Lucian.
“You could’ve done better,” she whispered, not quietly enough.
Aria heard every word.
Lucian didn’t respond.
Didn’t defend her.
Didn’t even react.
The silence was louder than anything Vanessa could’ve said.
Later on,
Aria stood alone near the balcony.
Her chest tight.
Her pride bruised.
“You’re handling it well.”
She turned.
It was Victor.
Again.
“I don’t need commentary,” she said.
He chuckled. “You’re interesting.”
“Is that supposed to comfort me?”
“No,” he said. “It’s a warning.”
Her brows furrowed.
“Lucian doesn’t keep things he doesn’t value,” he added quietly.
“And right now…”
His gaze flicked over her.
“You’re still being evaluated.”
Aria walked into the penthouse, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.
Lucian followed behind.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked suddenly.
He paused.
“What?”
“At the event,” she said, turning to face him. “When that lady made a mockery of me.”
His expression didn’t change.
“It wasn’t necessary.”
Her chest tightened. “Of course it wasn’t.”
“You’re not here to be defended,” he continued calmly.
“You’re here to perform.”
Something inside her cracked.
“I’m not your puppet.”
“No,” he said quietly.
“You’re my wife.”
Aria laughed bitterly. “That’s not what this feels like.”
He stepped closer.
“Then adjust your expectations.”
Her breath hitched slightly.
“I don’t need your kindness,” he added.
“Good,” she shot back.
“Because you don’t have any in you.”
Silence.
He reached out suddenly.
Grabbing her wrist.
Her breath caught.
His gaze locked onto hers.
Dark. Intense.
“Careful, Aria,” he said softly.
“You’re starting to forget your place.”
Her heart pounded.
But she didn’t look away.
“Maybe,” she whispered, “you’re the one starting to forget you are human.”
The shock on his face, no one ever talked back to him like that except his mom.
For the first time,
Lucian didn’t let go immediately.
- Writer
