Chapter 9: A Cage of Luxury

The next evening, a sleek black car pulled up in front of Lily's building.

She stood on the curb, gripping her suitcase, feeling utterly out of place as the suited driver stepped out and took her bags.

"You don't have to do this," she muttered under her breath, even though she knew it didn't matter.

This was happening.

The ride to Anthony's penthouse was silent, her nerves twisting tighter with each passing street.

When they finally arrived, the elevator doors opened to a world of wealth she had never imagined.

The penthouse was vast, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire city. The decor was sleek and modern—dark wood, expensive leather, and warm golden lighting.

But it wasn't the luxury that made her breath catch.

It was him.

Anthony stood near the bar, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone. He held a glass of whiskey, his gaze settling on her with quiet ownership.

"You're late."

Lily's hands clenched at her sides. "Traffic."

His lips quirked, as if amused by her defiance.

"Welcome home, sweetheart."

She hated the way her stomach flipped at his words.

Because this wasn't home.

It was a cage.

A golden, inescapable cage.

Lily barely slept her first night in the penthouse.

She lay in the massive bed, staring at the ceiling, every nerve in her body on edge.

Anthony hadn't forced her into his room—he had given her a guest room, just as luxurious, just as overwhelming. But that didn't mean she wasn't aware of his presence, just beyond those walls.

The next morning, she found him in the dining area, sipping coffee like he hadn't just turned her life upside down.

Lily folded her arms. "What exactly do you expect from me?"

Anthony barely looked up. "Everything."

Her breath caught.

His eyes flicked to hers, amusement dancing in them. "Relax, sweetheart. I don't take what isn't freely given."

Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she clenched her jaw. "Then why am I here?"

Anthony set his cup down and stood, closing the distance between them in slow, deliberate steps.

"Because I want you here." His voice was low, dangerous. "And you want to be here, whether you admit it or not."

Lily's heart pounded as he reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

"This is your world now," he murmured. "You'd do well to learn the rules."

Her pulse skittered.

Because something told her that Anthony Calloway's rules were meant to be broken.

And breaking them might be the most dangerous mistake of her life.