Chapter 4 - THE GILDED CAGE
The estate was less of a home and more of a fortress disguised as modern architecture. Vaulted ceilings of glass and dark timber overlooked the crashing waves far below, but every window was reinforced with thick, bullet-resistant layers, and the shadows were populated by silent, heavily armed guards who moved like ghosts through the corridors.
Dante led me up a sweeping floating staircase, still carrying his son, who had drifted back into a light slumber. I followed behind him like a condemned prisoner walking to the gallows, my arms wrapped tightly around myself against the chill of the cavernous hallway.
"This will be your room," Dante said, stopping in front of a pair of heavy mahogany double doors on the second floor. He pushed them open to reveal a sprawling suite draped in rich creams, charcoals, and deep emerald greens. French doors led out to a private balcony overlooking the moonlight-drenched ocean. A king-sized bed dominated the center of the room, and a walk-in closet stood open, already filled with rows of designer clothes, shoes, and dresses still bearing their original tags.
I stared at the luxurious room in disbelief, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "What is this? Am I a guest, a prisoner, or a science experiment?"
"You are safe," Dante replied, his voice firm as he walked past me and gently laid the sleeping baby down in a magnificent wooden crib tucked into the corner of the adjoining nursery. He straightened up, turning to face me with a weariness that seemed to age him ten years. "Guards are stationed outside your door twenty-four hours a day. Do not try to run, Alina. The city outside is crawling with men who would love nothing more than to use you as leverage against me. If you leave these gates unprotected, you won't survive forty-eight hours."
"You're threatening me," I said, my voice shaking with a mix of fear and righteous fury. "Just like the men my mother warned me about."
"I am keeping you alive," Dante corrected sharply, taking a step toward me. The intensity in his dark eyes was suffocating. "You share a face with a ghost who cost me everything. Every enemy I have in this syndicate believes Elena is dead. If they find out she left behind a twin—or that a girl who looks exactly like her is walking around under my roof—they will hunt you down and tear you apart to get to me."
He reached out, his hand hovering inches from my cheek as if he wanted to touch me, to verify that I was flesh, blood, and reality, but he pulled his hand back at the last second, clenching it into a fist at his side.
"Rest, Alina," he commanded softly, turning toward the door. "In the morning, we will talk to the family historian. We will dig up every lie your aunt told you, and we will find out who authorized the hit on your mother's car three years ago."
"Wait!" I called out before he could step into the hallway.
He paused, looking back over his shoulder, the thin white scar catching the amber lamplight.
"Why did he do it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, thinking of the baby sleeping peacefully in the next room. "Your son. Why did he reach for me? He's never seen me before in his life."
Dante's jaw tightened. A heavy, suffocating silence stretched between us before he gave his answer.
"Because," Dante said quietly, "children don't see with their eyes, Alina. They see with their souls. And to him... you smell like his mother."
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The door clicked shut, leaving me alone in the vast, silent room.
I walked slowly over to the French doors, pushing them open to let the cold ocean wind whip through my hair. Down below, the dark waves crashed mercilessly against the rocks. I was trapped in a cage of gold and blood, bound to a man I didn't know by a face that wasn't entirely mine.
