Chapter 2

The heavy iron doors of Blackthorn Manor thundered shut behind Kaitlyn, sealing her fate.

The echoing sound vibrated through the grand marble hall, swallowing the last of her hope.

Callum’s grip was firm, his fingers curled around her arm with possession as he dragged her deeper into the monstrous mansion. The scent of old wood, leather, and faint smoke filled the air, mixing with the lingering rain that clung to their clothes.

"Let me go," she hissed, twisting in his hold. "You can't keep me here like this."

His dark chuckle rippled through the space, low and cruel. "Little mouse, I can do anything I want, and you’d be wise to remember that."

Kaitlyn yanked at her arm again, but his grip only tightened, forcing her to stumble along beside him.

The grand hallway stretched endlessly, walls lined with towering portraits of men who shared Callum’s ruthless features—his lineage of crime and power watching her with cold, painted eyes. Each frame felt like another silent witness to her capture.

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded, her voice breaking.

"To your room," he said simply. "Where you’ll stay until I decide what to do with you."

"I’m not your prisoner."

"Aren’t you?" His gaze flicked to her, dark and unreadable. "No one’s coming for you, princess. Your world ended the moment you stepped into that house tonight. I’m the only one keeping you breathing."

She stumbled but caught herself, swallowing the sob rising in her throat. Her legs felt weak beneath her weight, her knees trembling. Panic curled like wire around her chest.

They climbed the grand staircase, its black marble steps gleaming like oil in the low light. Every echoing footstep reminded her she was deeper in the devil's lair.

A tall, silent woman waited at the landing. Her features were sharp, her posture rigid in a tailored black dress. The housekeeper, Kaitlyn guessed. Her eyes briefly met Kaitlyn's, and for a fleeting second, something like pity sparked there but it vanished as quickly as it came. Her gaze flicked nervously to Callum before lowering again, fear tightening her expression.

"Prepare the Queen’s Room," Callum ordered.

The woman hesitated only for a heartbeat, her eyes flickering to Kaitlyn with faint curiosity. "Yes, sir."

"The Queen’s Room?" Kaitlyn sneered. "What is this? Some kind of sick fantasy?"

"A fitting title for the only person left who holds any value to me," he murmured, leading her down a narrower hall. "A queen trapped in my own cage."

She twisted sharply to face him, fury burning in her chest. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?"

Callum stopped.

The sudden stillness made her stomach knot.

"Your father owed more than money, Kaitlyn," he said softly, dangerously. "He owed secrets. Power. And now those debts are yours."

"You’re insane," she whispered, stepping back until her shoulders hit the cold wall.

"No, I'm the only sane man left in this city. The only one who knows how valuable you are. The cartel wants you dead. I want you alive. That makes me your best option."

"I’ll never be yours," she spat.

His cold smile returned. "Oh, darling... you already are."

A door creaked open ahead. The housekeeper stepped aside, revealing a vast chamber drenched in velvet and shadow. Dark wood, silk sheets, a massive bed carved with twisted roses. Heavy drapes shrouded the windows. No balcony. No escape.

"Your new home," Callum said, dragging her inside. "You’ll stay here, eat and sleep here until I say otherwise."

She spun on him. "What gives you the right to lock me up? To decide my fate?"

"The right of survival," he replied coldly. "I killed to save you tonight, and I’ll kill again if I must. You don’t understand the world your father dragged you into but you will."

Kaitlyn backed away, her heart slamming against her ribs as if trying to break free of her chest. "The police…"

"...belong to me or to them," he finished flatly. "There’s no help coming. No rescue."

Her throat tightened. Panic clawed its way up her spine.

Callum stepped closer, his towering frame casting her in shadow.

"Listen well, princess," he murmured. "Until I know exactly what your father left behind and why the cartel wants you so badly, you are staying under my roof. Under my watch. You are mine to protect and to control."

"You’re a monster."

"Maybe," he whispered, brushing a knuckle down her cheek, sending a violent shiver down her spine. "But I’m the only monster keeping you alive."

She slapped his hand away, trembling. "I’ll escape."

He grinned darkly. "Try, little mouse. It'll amuse me."

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, frowning at the screen for a moment before slipping it back. His eyes returned to her, colder than before.

"The world outside this manor is death, Kaitlyn. Death for you. The cartel won’t rest. Neither will my rivals. You are more valuable than you realize. Your father’s sins have made you the most wanted woman in RavenPort."

"I don’t care! I want out! I want my life back!" she screamed, her voice cracking.

His face softened for just a breath, so quick she thought she imagined it.

"That life is gone," he said simply. "The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be."

The housekeeper returned with folded clothes and towels. "The Queen’s Room is ready, sir."

"Good." Callum turned, glancing at Kaitlyn one last time. "Rest. You will need your strength. The game begins."

"I want nothing from you," she hissed.

"You’ll want to live," he murmured, stepping away. "That’s enough."

He turned to leave, but Kaitlyn couldn’t help herself. She lunged for him, pounding weak fists against his back. "I hate you! You ruined everything!"

Callum turned fast, catching her wrists in an iron grip. His face was inches from hers, his breath warm and dangerous against her skin.

"Hate me all you want, little mouse," he murmured. "But you are alive because of me. Don’t forget it."

Her knees buckled as he released her, her wrists burning where his fingers had held tight.

The door slammed shut, the lock clicking into place.

Silence fell.

Kaitlyn stared at the grand bed, the dark velvet curtains, the high iron chandelier looming overhead. No phone. No windows she could slip through. No way out.

Her parents were gone. Her home was destroyed. Her life was stolen.

And the devil ruled her new prison.

Tears welled in her eyes as she sank to the floor, arms hugging her knees, rocking gently in the suffocating silence.

"I’ll escape," she whispered into the darkness. "I swear... I’ll escape."

But even as she said the words, fear crept in like poison. Because part of her knew... there was no escape from Callum Drake.

Not now.

Not ever.

A quiet knock at the door startled her. She scrambled back, heart hammering.

The door creaked open an inch.

A tray of food slid through the gap… roasted chicken, bread, water. No voice. No face. The door clicked shut again.

Kaitlyn stared at the meal, her stomach twisting. Hunger gnawed at her, but fear was stronger. She shoved the tray away and curled tighter into herself.

Her eyes burned. Her head throbbed. The scent of roses and old wood filled her senses as the dark room closed in around her.

Sleep finally dragged her down into restless, haunted dreams where Callum's voice whispered in her ear and shadows crept along the walls.

The game would begin, he had said.

But tonight… tonight was her first night in the devil's cage.

And no one was coming to save her.