Chapter 3 - The Gilded Cage
The guest suite was larger than my entire apartment.
Silk sheets covered a bed that felt like a cloud,
and the windows offered a view of the mountains turning purple in the twilight.
But I couldn't enjoy the luxury.
Every time a floorboard creaked,
I thought Caleb had found a way in.
Every time the wind whistled,
I heard his voice.
There was a knock on the door,
soft but insistent.
I jumped,
clutching a silk pillow to my chest.
"Enter,"
I said,
trying to sound braver than I felt.
A woman in a neat uniform entered,
carrying a tray of food.
"Mr. Moretti thought you might be hungry,"
she said,
setting the tray on a low table.
Moretti.
So that was his name.
Mateo Moretti.
The name carried weight,
even to someone like me who tried to ignore the news.
The Moretti family was legendary in the Southwest.
They were ghosts in the legal world,
but kings in the underworld.
"Thank you,"
I said,
smelling the rich aroma of roasted chicken and herbs.
She nodded and left,
locking the door behind her.
The sound of the bolt clicking shut sent a shiver down my spine.
I wasn't a guest.
I was a prisoner of circumstance.
I ate slowly,
the food tasting like ashes in my mouth.
Later that night,
the door unlocked again.
Mateo walked in,
having discarded his suit jacket.
His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar,
revealing the edge of a tattoo on his chest.
He looked tired,
but his eyes were still sharp.
"He tried to call again,"
Mateo said,
tossing my phone onto the bed.
"It’s been disconnected now."
"What did you say to him?"
I asked,
my voice trembling.
"I told him that you were under my protection,"
he said,
sitting in a chair across from me.
"And I told him that if he stepped within a mile of this property,
I would send his head back to his boss in a box."
I swallowed hard.
"He won't stop,"
I said.
"Caleb doesn't know how to lose."
"Neither do I,"
Mateo replied.
He leaned forward,
his elbows resting on his knees.
"Tell me why he’s after you,
Elena."
"It started a year ago,"
I began,
my voice small.
"I was a court reporter."
"I saw things I wasn't supposed to see."
"Files regarding the Thorne syndicate’s money laundering."
"Caleb was assigned to make sure I didn't talk."
"But he became... obsessed."
Mateo’s jaw tightened.
"He thought he owned me,"
I continued,
tears finally falling.
"I ran,
I changed my name,
I took that job at the restaurant."
"But he found me anyway."
Mateo stood up and walked over to the bed.
He sat beside me,
and for a moment,
I thought he might touch me.
Instead,
he just watched me.
"You’re a witness,"
he said.
"A loose end."
"Yes,"
I whispered.
"But to him,
I’m a prize."
Mateo reached out then,
his thumb brushing a tear from my cheek.
His touch was surprisingly gentle,
a stark contrast to the violence I knew he was capable of.
"He won't touch you again,"
Mateo promised.
"I’ve spent my life surrounded by people who want things from me."
"But you,"
he paused,
his eyes searching mine.
"You just want to survive."
"I want to be free,"
I corrected him.
He looked at me for a long time,
the silence stretching between us.
"Freedom is a luxury people like us can't afford,"
he said.
"But safety,"
"safety I can give you."
He stood up to leave,
but I reached out and caught his sleeve.
"Why are you doing this?"
I asked.
"Is it because of the files?
Do you want what I know?"
He looked down at my hand on his arm,
then back at my face.
"I don't need your files,
Elena,"
he said.
"I already know where the bodies are buried."
"I’m doing this because when I saw you in that restaurant,"
"for the first time in ten years,"
"I felt something other than boredom."
He left the room then,
and this time,
the sound of the lock didn't feel like a threat.
It felt like a shield.
I lay down on the bed,
the scent of sandalwood still lingering in the air.
I was in the heart of a storm,
but for the first night in a year,
May you like
I didn't dream of Caleb.
I dreamed of dark eyes and a voice like velvet.
