Chapter 2 - The Cage at Blackwood Estate
The black Maybach pulled through a set of towering wrought-iron gates adorned with silver stags, winding up a long, tree-lined drive that cut through hundreds of acres of private upstate forest.
Blackwood Estate loomed against the stormy night sky like a fortress of dark granite and smoked glass. It was a place built for a man who expected enemies at every hour—encircled by high stone walls, security towers, and armed guards patrolling the perimeter with Belgian Malinois on short leashes.
The car stopped beneath a stone portico.
Dante stepped out first, not offering a hand. Evelyn stumbled out behind him, her silver gown catching on the door frame. She tore a strip of the expensive silk away with a sharp rip, ignoring the ruin of the dress.
"Take off the silk," Dante commanded without looking back as he walked up the grand steps.
Evelyn stopped on the wet stone, holding out her tied wrists. "I can't. You bound them."
Dante paused at the double doors, turned around, and pulled a sleek, silver pocket knife from his vest. In a single fluid motion, he stepped close—his dark figure towering over her—and sliced through the silk cord. The blade came within a hair’s breadth of her skin, but his hand was impossibly steady.
Evelyn rubbed her red, chafed wrists, staring at him. "So what now, Mr. Bellamy? Do you drive me back to Brooklyn? Or do you ask for a refund from your human-trafficking friends?"
Dante stepped closer, his shadow completely enveloping her. The rain drizzled onto his shoulders, but he didn't seem to notice.
"You think Miles Calder gives refunds?" Dante asked, his voice low and smooth. "If I drop you back on the street, Calder’s men will realize the mistake within twelve hours. They will snatch you again, sell you to someone who won't care about your last name, and bury the evidence of their error."
Evelyn’s throat felt dry. "I can go to the police—"
"The police are paid by the men who put you on that stage," Dante snapped. "You are in my world now, Miss Hart. A world where you are currently worth fifty million dollars to my reputation. If news leaks that Dante Bellamy was tricked into buying a baker’s daughter instead of Marcus Hart’s heiress, every cartel, syndicate, and federal agency from here to London will see it as a sign of blood in the water."
"So I'm just supposed to stay here because your pride is fragile?!" Evelyn yelled, her voice echoing off the stone pillars.
Dante grabbed her chin, his thumb pressing firmly against her jawline. His touch was electric, alarming, and utterly unyielding. He forced her to look directly into his dark, unforgiving eyes.
"You stay here because it is the only place on this earth where you remain breathing," Dante growled softly. "You wanted to know why I bought you? I bought you to force a king to his knees. Now, it seems I’ve bought a ghost. But until I figure out how to use you to burn Marcus Hart anyway... you belong to Blackwood."
He dropped his hand, turned, and strode inside.
Evelyn stood in the cold rain, her wrists raw, her heels soaked, staring at the grand, imposing entrance of the cage she had just been locked inside. She had spent her entire life trying to survive poverty, double shifts, and empty cupboards. She had survived cold winters without heat.
May you like
She looked at the armed guards standing near the stone pillars, watching her with vigilant, unblinking eyes.
I survived Brooklyn, Evelyn thought, clenching her wet fists as she stepped across the threshold into the dark mansion. I will survive you, Dante Bellamy.
