The Cold Cage

The air inside Lucien's sleek black car was suffocating. Sophie sat stiffly in the plush leather seat, her hands clasped tightly together to stop their trembling. Every passing second deepened her fear. Lucien, seated beside her with an air of indifference, stared out of the tinted window, his expression unreadable.

"Please, let me go," Sophie begged, her voice cracking. "I have a fiancé. I'm supposed to get married in a week. My family—they'll be worried sick. Please, you don't have to do this."

She showed him the ring Adrien gave to her.

Lucien's gaze shifted to her, cold and unyielding. "Stop talking," he said, his voice a low command. "You're mine now. Your past doesn't matter."

Tears welled in Sophie's eyes, but she bit her lip, refusing to cry in front of him. She turned away, looking out at the city lights flashing by, feeling a deep, hollow ache in her chest.

When they arrived at Lucien's mansion, Sophie's breath caught in her throat. The sprawling estate was surrounded by high walls and guarded gates, its grandeur both awe-inspiring and oppressive. The car came to a smooth stop, and Lucien stepped out without a word, leaving Sophie to be ushered out by one of his men.

Inside, the mansion was even more breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hung from high ceilings, and marble floors gleamed beneath her feet. Sophie barely noticed the opulence; her thoughts were consumed by fear and despair.

A kind-faced older woman appeared in the grand foyer, her hair neatly pinned back. She was dressed simply but elegantly, her warm brown eyes flickering with surprise as they landed on Sophie.

"Monsieur Marchand," the woman said, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Is this—?"

Lucien cut her off with a sharp glance. "No, Madeleine," he said curtly. "She's not Amélie."

Madeleine blinked, her composure quickly returning. She turned to Sophie with a polite smile. "Welcome, mademoiselle. I'm Madeleine. Let me show you to your room."

Sophie followed Madeleine up the grand staircase, her legs weak beneath her. She wanted to run, but where could she go? This place was a fortress. When they reached the room, Sophie hesitated before stepping inside.

"This will be your space," Madeleine said, gesturing to the lavish room. "You'll find everything you need here."

Sophie looked around, taking in the canopy bed, the gilded mirrors, and the rows of designer dresses hanging in the wardrobe. It felt like a prison disguised as paradise.

Once they were alone, Sophie turned to Madeleine, her voice trembling. "Please, you have to help me. I can't stay here. I need to go home."

Madeleine's expression softened, but she shook her head. "I'm sorry, mademoiselle, but I can't do that. Monsieur Marchand… he's not a man you disobey."

"But why?" Sophie pressed. "Why am I here? What does he want from me?"

Madeleine hesitated, then sighed. "He lost someone very dear to him—a woman who looked almost exactly like you. When he saw you… I suppose he thought he was getting her back, in some way."

Sophie's stomach twisted. "That's insane. I'm not her. He can't just… take me like this!"

Madeleine's eyes were filled with pity. "Lucien isn't cruel, but he's… damaged. He's been through a lot, and he doesn't let people in easily. He's taken me in as family, like a mother, and I owe him my loyalty. I'm sorry, Sophie. I can't help you escape."

Sophie's heart sank as the weight of her situation pressed down on her. She was trapped in a gilded cage, and no one was coming to save her.

---

Later that evening, Lucien stood in his study, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the sprawling gardens below. Madeleine entered quietly, her presence unspoken yet understood.

"You know she's terrified, don't you?" Madeleine said softly.

Lucien didn't turn. "She'll get used to it."

"She's not Amélie, Lucien," Madeleine said gently. "She's her own person."

"I know that," Lucien snapped, his voice sharp. Then, after a pause, he sighed, the anger fading. "I know."

Madeleine watched him carefully. "Why did you bring her here? To fill a void? Or because you think she can heal you?"

Lucien didn't answer, but the tension in his posture betrayed the storm raging inside him. After a long silence, he finally spoke. "I don't know yet."

Madeleine nodded, her heart heavy. She'd seen Lucien at his worst and his best, and she knew how deeply his grief had scarred him. But this—this was something new, and she wasn't sure where it would lead.

---

In her room, Sophie sat by the window, staring out at the dark gardens beyond. Her dinner sat untouched on the table. She felt like a bird in a cage, her wings clipped.

As much as she hated Lucien for what he had done, she couldn't ignore the sadness she had glimpsed in his eyes. But it didn't matter. She didn't belong here, and she would find a way to escape—no matter what it took.