Chapter 3 - THE GOLDEN CAGEA
sleek black armored SUV was idling in the back alley.
Lorenzo opened the door himself, refusing to let his driver touch the handle for me.
I climbed inside, the leather seats smelling of expensive cologne and cedarwood.
Lorenzo slid in beside me, closing the distance between us immediately.
The heavy doors clicked shut, locking out the noise of the city.
“Where are you taking me?” I demanded, turning to face him.
“To my estate,” he replied simply, adjusting his cuff links.
“I have a bakery to run! I have a life, Lorenzo!”
“Your life changed the second you looked at me in that ballroom, Camila.”
He reached over and grabbed my hands, holding them gently between his large, warm palms.
His bandaged palm was stiff, but he didn't complain about the pain once.
“Why me?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly under the overwhelming weight of the day.
“You see me,” I continued, gesturing to myself. “I am not the thin, fragile socialites you surround yourself with.”
Lorenzo leaned in closer until I could feel the heat radiating from his chest.
“Do not insult yourself in my presence,” he said, his voice laced with absolute authority.
“Those women are glass. They break at the slightest breeze.”
His hand moved up to cup my cheek, his thumb tracing my jawline with breathtaking tenderness.
“You are full of life, beauty, strength, and warmth.”
“You walked into that ballroom like a queen who didn't care about my power.”
“When my glass broke, everyone fled in fear.”
“You were the only one who stepped toward the blood to heal me.”
I swallowed hard, feeling an unwanted shiver run down my spine.
His dark eyes held no lies, only an intense, terrifying devotion.
“I don’t want to be kept in a cage, Lorenzo.”
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“It won’t be a cage, my sweet pastry chef,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my temple.
“It will be an empire, and you will share it with me.”
