Chapter 2 - The Gilded Cage
The guest suite on the second floor was larger than the entire apartment Marcus and I used to rent.
It had floor-to-ceiling windows, a massive king-sized bed, and a private bathroom lined with white marble.
I sat on the edge of the mattress, watching Lily sleep peacefully under a thick silk duvet.
We had been upgraded from prisoners to guests, but the bronze gates outside remained firmly locked.
For the next three days, my routine completely shattered.
I was no longer allowed to scrub the floors or iron the custom suits.
Instead, the actual household staff brought us gourmet meals on silver trays.
It felt like a psychological trap, a game of cat and mouse where I was waiting for the trapdoor to open beneath my feet.
On the fourth evening, a heavy knock echoed through the suite.
I opened the door to find Silas Vance standing in the hallway, dressed in a charcoal suit that looked sharper than a knife.
"Walk with me," he said, not waiting for my answer before turning down the corridor.
I glanced back at the sleeping Lily, made sure the door was secure, and hurried to catch up with him.
His strides were long and purposeful, leading me toward the grand balcony that overlooked the sprawling estate.
The Chicago skyline glowed in the distance, a beautiful reminder of the world I was no longer a part of.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly in the cool night air.
"Why put us in that room?"
Silas leaned against the stone railing, lighting a cigarette with a silver lighter.
The flame illuminated the jagged scar on his jaw, the one my daughter had traced so fearlessly.
"Your husband, Marcus, didn't just owe me money," Silas said quietly, blowing a stream of smoke into the dark sky.
My stomach plummeted.
"What do you mean?" I whispered, dread wrapping its cold fingers around my throat.
"He stole from the syndicate," Silas explained, his dark eyes locking onto mine.
"He stole information, and he sold it to a rival family before he skipped town."
I pressed my hand to my mouth to stifle a sob.
"The two hundred thousand was just the beginning," Silas continued, his voice devoid of pity.
"There is a hit out on your husband, Elena."
I flinched at the sound of my name on his lips.
"But more importantly," Silas took a step closer to me, the scent of expensive cologne and tobacco wrapping around my senses.
"The rival family knows he left you and your daughter behind."
I stumbled back, my back hitting the cold stone pillar of the balcony.
"They want to use you to draw him out," Silas said, stopping just inches away from my face.
"Which means, as long as you are inside these gates, you are under my protection."
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I looked up at the terrifying syndicate boss, realizing that the monster wasn't keeping me captive.
He was keeping me alive.
