The armored sedan was a study in excess, lined with black leather and fitted with tinted, soundproof glass. It felt less like a vehicle and more like a high-speed execution chamber. Kaelen sat rigidly on the far end of the plush seat, the crumpled contract still clutched in her hand.
Silas sat opposite her, ignoring her existence entirely. He had a custom-built laptop resting on his knees, its screen glowing with intricate financial data she couldn't decipher. He was a man consumed by control, too busy regulating his empire to acknowledge the rage and fear radiating from his newly acquired "asset."
"You are a monster," Kaelen finally said, the words sharp and low. "A relic. You think because my father was desperate, you get to own me? You think this contract means something in a civilized world?"
Silas tapped a key on his laptop, maximizing a spreadsheet. He didn't look up. "It means security, Kaelen. It means protection for your father. And it means access for me. I uphold contracts, unlike your family."
"I will find the loophole. I will find a way to burn this document and everything you stand for," she vowed, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts.
Silas's hand paused over the keyboard. His slate eyes finally lifted, meeting hers across the space of the car. The look held no heat, only glacial dismissal.
"Be quiet, Kaelen," he commanded, his voice perfectly level. "You are an adult. Act like one. You will speak when spoken to. Learn the rules, or suffer the consequences. And trust me, you are not prepared for my consequences."
He returned to his laptop, effectively dismissing her. The air in the car thickened into a suffocating silence, broken only by the soft thump of the specialized tires on the Chicago pavement. She was silenced, owned, and driven toward an unknown prison.
The car slipped into the subterranean entrance of a towering skyscraper, one of the newest, shiniest glass monoliths overlooking Lake Michigan. It was Silas's citadel, his fortress of cold wealth.
Within minutes, Kaelen was being ushered out of a private elevator that opened directly into a penthouse suite so vast and minimalist it felt like the inside of an ice sculpture. Marble floors gleamed, and a panoramic window offered a breathtaking, yet terrifying, view of the city she no longer belonged to.
A short, stout woman with a perpetual expression of weary loyalty met them. "Welcome home, Mr. Moretti. I have prepared the guest wing."
"This is Mrs. Rossi, Kaelen," Silas introduced, his arm resting lightly on the small of her back, a public, possessive touch that made Kaelen stiffen. "She manages the house. She is discreet. Do not test her loyalty."
Mrs. Rossi gave a curt, polite nod.
Kaelen was led through a series of cold, immaculate rooms to her suite. It was the size of her entire former apartment. It featured a walk-in closet, a sprawling bathroom, and a bedroom dominated by a king-sized bed and that impossible, dizzying view. But as she walked the perimeter, she noticed the subtle, oppressive details: the phone had no dial tone, the windows were sealed shut, and when Mrs. Rossi left, Kaelen heard the faint, chilling click of the door locking from the outside.
It was luxurious, yes. But it was undeniably a cage.
Ten minutes later, Kaelen was summoned to the study, a dark, imposing room of rich mahogany and deep shadow. Silas was seated behind an immense desk, looking every inch the lord of this domain.
He pushed a neat, typed list across the desk toward her. "The terms are simple, Kaelen, and non-negotiable."
Kaelen scanned the list, feeling a familiar wave of furious defiance.
Rule 1: Public Appearance. "In public, you are my devoted fiancée. You are obsessed with me. You will smile, you will hang on my arm, and you will wear this symbol of our alleged devotion."
Rule 2: Privacy. "We share the wing, but your bedroom remains your own. Any physical intimacy is strictly for the benefit of our witnesses. If you attempt any unsanctioned movement or communication, the agreement regarding your father is immediately nullified."
Rule 3: The Lie. "You are not a gallery owner who was sold. You are a successful interior designer who decided to dedicate her life to managing my personal investments. You will learn the backstory I have prepared for you. There will be no deviation."
Kaelen threw the list back onto the desk. "You are insane if you think I will wear your shackle."
Silas merely picked up a velvet-lined box from the desk. He opened it, and the light from the skyscraper windows caught a massive, square-cut diamond nestled inside. It was obscene, blindingly ostentatious.
"You will wear it," Silas stated. "It is necessary to the transaction. It signifies ownership. You are no longer Kaelen Thorne, the artist. You are now the future Mrs. Moretti, my prized asset."
Kaelen pulled her hands into her lap, shaking her head. "No. This is where I draw the line. I am not wearing that vulgar, glittering lie."
Silas stood, his face devoid of emotion. He rounded the desk, moving with a silent, purposeful grace. Kaelen wanted to back away, but she was rooted to the spot by the intensity of his presence.
He reached for her left hand, and before she could snatch it away, his long, cold fingers closed around her wrist. He lifted her hand and, with a frighteningly gentle dominance, he slipped the enormous Engagement Ring onto her finger. The gold was cold, the diamond an impossible weight.
It was the second time he had touched her, and the intimacy of the action, the promise of a forced life together, was a far greater violation than the contract itself.
Silas stepped back, his gaze dropping to the diamond before lifting back to her eyes. "You have twenty-four hours to become the woman I need you to be, Kaelen. Our first public appearance, a dinner with Senator and Mrs. Conti, is tomorrow night."
He released her hand, leaving the cold, heavy band of gold and diamond behind. Kaelen stared at the ring, a sparkling shackle. She was a pawn, an asset, but as she lifted her eyes, the hate hardened into a cold resolve.
She would play his game. She would learn his rules. And she would use his very own gilded cage to find the weapon that could set her free and shatter Silas Moretti's reign forever.