Chapter 4 - The Golden Cage
The dance floor cleared as Richard led me to the center. The orchestra began to play a slow, sweeping waltz.
Richard pulled me close, his right hand settling firmly on my hip while his left hand held mine, his fingers interlacing with mine with possessive strength. We moved together seamlessly, his taller frame guiding my every step with practiced, effortless authority.
"You handled yourself well back there," Richard whispered, his breath warm against my temple.
"I learned from the best," I replied softly, resting my head briefly against his shoulder before looking up into his face. "Did you really mean what you said in your office? About my father's contract?"
"Every word," Richard said smoothly. "Arthur was my closest friend, but he was also a practical man. He knew that without a powerful husband, you would be devoured by the men in this city."
"And you?" I asked, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Are you doing this out of duty to my father? Or because you want me?"
Richard’s steps slowed slightly. He spun me gently before pulling me back into his chest, so close I could feel the hard, steady rhythm of his heartbeat against mine.
His gray eyes locked onto mine, burning with a raw, undisguised passion that made my breath catch in my throat.
"Duty got me through the door, Daphne," Richard murmured, his voice dropping into a husky, intoxicating whisper. "But I have wanted you since the day you turned twenty-one and stood in my parlor wearing that blue dress, looking at me like I was the only man in the world."
My mouth went dry. "Richard..."
"I forced myself to stay away," he continued, his thumb lightly brushing the small of my exposed back, sending electrical currents humming through my nerves. "I let you play with boys like Tristan because I swore I wouldn't force you into my bed. But those days are over. You belong to me now, Daphne. By contract, by legacy... and soon, by vow."
Before I could process the overwhelming wave of heat pooling in my stomach, Vance approached the edge of the dance floor, whispering something urgently to Richard’s personal assistant.
Richard noticed the shift in his security detail's posture. He stopped dancing, his eyes narrowing as Vance hurried toward us.
"Mr. Langum," Vance whispered, leaning in close so only Richard and I could hear. "We have a problem. The police just arrived at your residence. There’s been a break-in at the penthouse."
My heart dropped into my stomach. "My penthouse?"
"No, Miss Sterling," Vance replied, his face grim. "Mr. Langum’s private estate in Greenwich. Someone broke into his private vault and stole the original copy of the Sterling Trust Deed."
Richard’s expression didn't change, but the air around him turned ice-cold.
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"Who was it?" Richard asked calmly.
"Security footage caught the intruder before they cut the wires," Vance answered. "It was Victoria Vance... your chief legal counsel."
