Chapter 3 - The Gilded Cage
The Gallagher estate was a fortress of limestone and glass,
perched on a cliff overlooking the dark,
churning waters of Lake Erie.
It was a place where the wind sounded like music and the air tasted of salt and expensive cedar.
I was led through hallways lined with art that belonged in the Louvre,
my sneakers squeaking embarrassingly against the polished marble floors.
Finally,
we reached a set of double oak doors that opened into a library larger than my entire apartment building.
Roman was standing by a floor-to-ceiling window,
his back to me,
watching the waves crash against the rocks below.
He didn't turn around when I entered,
but I knew he felt my presence by the way the tension in the room shifted.
“You came,”
he said,
his voice vibrating through the floorboards.
“I wasn't sure if you had enough fire in you to take the risk.”
“I didn't have much of a choice,”
I replied,
trying to keep my voice steady.
“You sent men to my house,
Roman.”
He turned then,
and the sheer force of his personality hit me like a physical blow.
He looked different in the daylight,
less like a myth and more like a man,
though the danger still clung to him like a second skin.
“I sent you an invitation,”
he corrected,
walking toward me with a slow,
predatory grace.
“The money was for your boyfriend’s debts.”
“I don't like my things being associated with people who owe money to the wrong crowds.”
I blinked,
shaken by the revelation.
“His debts?
How do you know about his debts?”
Roman stopped inches away from me,
so close I could see the flecks of gold in his gray eyes.
“I know everything,
Elena.”
“I know he gambles with money you earn.”
“I know he hasn't looked at you with respect in years.”
“And I know that when you called me ‘baby’,
it was the first time in a long time you felt like you had power over anything.”
He reached out,
his thumb grazing my jawline,
his touch surprisingly gentle for a man with so much blood on his hands.
“I want to give you that power,”
he whispered,
“but it comes with a price.”
“I don't want your service at a bar.”
“I want your loyalty.”
I felt a rush of heat climb my neck,
the proximity of him making it hard to draw a full breath.
“What kind of loyalty?”
I asked,
my voice barely a whisper.
“The kind that stays,”
he said,
his gaze dropping to my lips.
“The kind that sees the monster and doesn't run.”
Before I could answer,
the doors burst open,
and one of his men rushed in,
looking panicked.
“Boss,
it’s the Moretti crew.”
“They picked up the boyfriend.”
“They think he’s a snitch because we paid off his tab.”
Roman’s face transformed instantly,
the gentleness vanishing into a mask of cold,
unforgiving iron.
He didn't look at the guard,
he kept his eyes on mine.
“It seems your old life is trying to get you killed again,
Elena.”
“Shall we go and finish this?”
He didn't wait for my answer,
he simply took my hand,
May you like
his grip firm and warm,
and led me toward the fire.
