Chapter Four: The Gilded Cage
The next day passed in a blur of anxiety.
At precisely seven, a sleek black Audi with tinted windows pulled up outside her building.
The driver, another suit-wearing man with the unmistakable bulge of a shoulder holster, opened the door wordlessly.
The car took her not to the penthouse.
But to a sprawling estate on the outskirts of the city.
Guarded by an imposing iron gate and men with earpieces.
As they drove up the winding driveway, she clutched her small purse. Wishing she’d had something better to wear than her only nice dress. A simple black number she’d bought for job interviews.
Marco met her at the entrance.
His expression as unreadable as ever.
“You’re not here to clean.”
“Then what—”
“Mr. Russo wants you to sing.”
“Sing?”
“Follow me.”
He led her through a mansion that made the penthouse look modest.
Marble floors. Crystal chandeliers. Priceless art adorning every wall.
Dozens of well-dressed guests mingled. Champagne glasses in hand.
She felt painfully out of place.
Acutely aware of her drugstore makeup and sensible shoes.
Marco guided her to a small antechamber off the main hall.
“Wait here. Mr. Russo will come for you.”
Alone, she paced the ornate room.
Heart thundering.
This was madness. She was a housekeeper. Not a performer.
What was Mr. Russo playing at?
The door opened.
And he entered.
Devastatingly elegant in a black tuxedo that fit him like a second skin. His dark hair perfectly styled. His jawline sharp enough to cut glass.
Up close, the scar that ran along his right cheekbone was more noticeable.
A silver line that somehow only enhanced his dangerous beauty.
“Lucia.”
His dark eyes assessed her from head to toe.
“You came.”
“Did I have a choice?”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
That ghost of a smile appeared again.
“We always have choices. Some are simply more painful than others.”
He crossed to a cabinet.
Removing a velvet box.
“Your dress is inadequate for tonight’s gathering.”
The blunt assessment stung. Though he wasn’t wrong.
“I’m sorry. It’s all I have.”
“Which is why I procured this.”
He opened the box.
Revealing a necklace of sapphires that caught the light like captured stars.
“To elevate your appearance.”
She stepped back.
“I can’t accept that.”
“It’s not a gift. It’s a costume for your performance.”
He moved behind her before she could protest further.
His fingers brushing her neck as he fastened the necklace.
The weight of it felt like a collar.
“Tonight, you represent me. You will sing three songs. The lullaby, and two others your grandmother taught you. You will speak to no one without my permission. You will stay by my side.”
He turned her to face him.
Lifting her chin with one finger.
“Do you understand?”
The jewels were cold against her skin.
“Why me? Why not hire a real singer?”
His hands came to rest on her shoulders.
His breath warm against her ear.
“Because when you sing, you remind me of home.”
Something in his tone made her shiver.
There was possession there.
And something else she couldn’t name. A hunger that had nothing to do with music.
“My grandmother would say, ‘The devil always misses heaven.'”
His laugh was low and without humor.
“Then she would be right about me.”
