Chapter 1
Five years ago, Lucas Moretti rescued me from a heap of bodies.
He said, "Stick with me, and I'll keep you safe for the rest of your life."
Thus, I stayed by his side, dodging assassins and enduring the purges.
Every time my brother needed surgery, I'd kneel outside his study, begging him for the money.
I thought if I kept my head down and stayed humble, maybe one day I'd finally have a real home.
But today, the butler delivered the wrong gift.
On my ruby necklace, it was engraved: [The cage is your only place.]
On the other woman's crown, it was engraved: [My wife, may you share the throne with me.]
When I called Lucas, there was a lot of noise in the background.
Someone cheered, "Happy wedding!"
The woman laughed into the phone. "What if she walks away?"
Lucas said casually, "She wouldn't dare. Her brother is still in my hospital."
I looked at my brother sleeping in the hospital room and murmured softly.
Then I sent a message to the vampire prince: [Come get me, and take away the only man I still care about in this world.]
*****
"Ms. Chapman, Mr. Moretti sent over an urgent delivery. He said you have to open it yourself." Mary, the head nurse, pushed open the door to the VIP lounge, holding two black velvet boxes.
She stepped inside, carefully carrying the boxes.
I tore my eyes away from my brother's vital signs monitor.
Today marked the fifth anniversary of Lucas and me.
Five years ago today, Lucas rescued me from a heap of bodies.
He said, "Stick with me, and I'll keep you safe for the rest of your life."
"Put them on the table," I said softly.
Mary smiled and set the boxes down.
"Mr. Moretti really treats you well. This top-floor hospital room costs 100,000 dollars a day, and he reserved it for your brother for three years straight without batting an eye," she said.
I didn't say anything, but a gentle warmth stirred in my chest.
I walked over to the coffee table and unfastened the silver ribbon on the first box.
With a click, the clasp popped open.
Inside was a ruby necklace, almost the color of blood.
It was as red as the blood that soaked the streets on that stormy night five years ago.
Next to the necklace was a card with a black background and gold lettering.
I picked it up.
Lucas' bold, swirling handwriting stood out right away. [The cage is your only place.]
I felt my cheeks flush as I read those words.
He was always possessive in a way that defied all logic.
"Oh my god, that ruby is gorgeous," Mary gasped. "Ms. Chapman, aren't you curious about what's inside the other box?"
I set the necklace down and reached for the second box.
This one was a bit bigger and heavier than the first.
I pressed the clasp.
The velvet lid lifted slowly, and the dazzling brilliance of the diamonds nearly blinded me for a moment.
Inside was a crown, encrusted with pink diamonds.
Its design was so ornate and extravagant that it felt almost unreal.
I was stunned.
Next to the crown, there was another card.
My fingertips trembled, almost without realizing it, as I reached for the card.
I opened it.
Lucas' handwriting stared back at me: [My wife, may you share the throne with me.]
Mary peered at the card and then instantly covered her mouth in shock.
She exclaimed, "Ms. Chapman, is Mr. Moretti actually proposing to you?
"Wife, throne... Oh my, you're finally going to be the mafia queen!"
Mary sounded genuinely jealous.
But all I could hear was a ringing in my ears, like I'd just been whacked upside the head.
My blood froze on the spot.
I looked down at the first card. [The cage is your only place.]
I turned to the second card. [My wife, may you share the throne with me.]
One was sent into the cage.
Another could share the throne with him.
No matter how possessive Lucas was, he'd never use such contradictory words in a proposal, unless these two gifts weren't meant for the same person at all.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.
With a loud bang, the lounge door was flung open.
Lucas' butler, John, burst in, sweat pouring down his face. He didn't even bother to knock.
"Ms. Chapman, I'm so sorry," he gasped, slapping his hand down on the box with the crown. "Wrong delivery. The guys screwed up and sent over something wrong."
He fumbled, hurriedly stuffing the card that read "My wife" into his jacket.
His movement was so abrupt that he nearly knocked over the water glass on the table.
Mary stood frozen, her smile rigid on her face.
The lounge was dead silent.
The only sound was the soft whoosh of the air conditioning.
I looked at John's ghostly pale face.
"Wrong delivery?" My voice sounded strangely calm.
"Y-Yes," John stammered, not daring to look at me.
"Who was the crown for?" I pressed.
John swallowed hard, sweat dripping down the lines of his forehead.
He answered, "Ms. Chapman, please don't ask. Mr. Moretti told me..."
"Who was the crown meant for?" I pressed.
I stepped closer, staring him down.
John took a half-step back, clutching the box tightly to his chest.
"I-It was for Ms. Clement," he stammered.
Charlotte Clement was the heiress of the Clement family and also the woman who was rumored to be engaged to Lucas last month.
Back then, I confronted him with the newspaper, and he held me down on the couch, kissing away my tears.
He said it was just an act, and that he'd never betray me.
"You know I hate mistresses more than anything," I said, locking eyes with him.
My father's mistress drove my mother to jump off a building.
What did Lucas say back then?
He stroked my hair and said, "I know. That's why I'll never let you end up in that position."
I snapped out of my thoughts, my eyes landing on the ruby necklace on the table.
The cage, so the cage was where he meant for me to be.
I was nothing but a secret lover, hidden away from the world.
I was a gilded canary, trapped behind bars.
Mary quietly stepped back, her gaze avoiding mine.
The envy in her eyes from before had vanished, replaced by awkward pity, like she was watching me become the punchline of a cruel joke.
My stomach twisted itself into knots.
I felt sick.
I was absolutely nauseated.
It hurt just to breathe, like my chest was on fire.
John clutched the box, head down, edging toward the door.
"Ms. Chapman, the necklace is yours. I'll leave you now," he said.
He practically bolted out of the lounge.
I stood frozen, staring at the card with "cage" written on it for what felt like forever.
My nails dug deep into my palm, but I didn't feel a thing.
I turned around and fished my phone out of my coat pocket.
I swiped open the screen and found the pinned number.
I hit call.
The phone rang three times, each one echoing louder in my head.
Then the call went through.