Chapter 3 - The Golden Cage
By three in the morning, Titan had consumed half a bowl of warm broth and two ounces of shredded chicken, fed to him piece by piece from Briar’s fingers. Exhausted, the massive dog had collapsed sideways, his head resting squarely across Briar’s lap as she sat against the base of the sofa, gently stroking his velvet ears.
Viktor approached Damien in the dark hallway near the kitchen. "The girl saved the dog, Boss. I'll have the driver take her back to Brooklyn and transfer the funds to her account."
"No," Damien said.
Viktor blinked. "Boss?"
"He ate from her hands because she is here," Damien said, his dark eyes fixed on the girl asleep against his sofa, her fair hair spilling over Titan’s grey hide. "If she leaves tomorrow, he stops eating again by nightfall. Prepare the guest suite."
"Mr. Ashworth," Viktor hesitated. "We don't know who she is. She came out of nowhere from a back-alley clinic."
"I know exactly who she is," Damien replied coldly. "I had her background checked before I walked into that clinic. She has no family, no records before three years ago, and she lives like a ghost. She is safe."
When Briar woke the next morning, the sun was blinding through the high windows. Titan was still asleep beside her, his chest rising and falling in a deep, healthy rhythm.
A fresh pot of coffee sat on the low mahogany table, along with a black velvet box and an envelope.
Damien sat in a leather armchair across from her, wearing a crisp charcoal suit, reading the morning financial papers. "Good morning, Miss Lennox."
Briar sat up quickly, pulling her sweater tight. "I... I should get back to the clinic. Dr. Vance will be looking for me."
"Dr. Vance has already been notified that you have resigned," Damien said, not looking up from his paper. "Your final paycheck has been cleared, along with a fifty-thousand-dollar severance bonus."
Briar froze. "What? You can't just buy my life!"
Damien set the paper down slowly. His dark eyes locked onto hers with quiet, absolute dominance. "I am not buying your life, Miss Lennox. I am employing you. Titan requires three weeks of physical therapy and strict dietary monitoring. You will stay here until he is fully recovered. You will be paid twenty thousand dollars a week."
Briar stared at the envelope on the table. Twenty thousand dollars a week meant freedom. It meant she could pay off the fake identity documents she’d bought three years ago. It meant she would never have to run again.
"Why him?" Briar asked softly, looking down at Titan. "Why does a man like you care so much about a dog?"
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Damien’s expression hardened into granite. He stood up, buttoning his jacket. "He belonged to my younger brother, Julian. Julian was murdered six months ago in an ambush meant for me. Titan took two bullets shielding him."
Damien stepped toward the private elevator, pausing before the doors opened. "This dog is the only thing left on this earth that remembers my brother’s voice. You heal him, Briar. And I will make sure no one ever touches you again."
