Gold Cage

by Francesca Baez

  Gold Cage

  Caged: Book 1

  Francesca Baez

  Contents

  Part I

  1. Selina

  2. Javier

  3. Selina

  4. Javier

  5. Selina

  6. Javier

  7. Selina

  8. Selina

  9. Javier

  10. Selina

  11. Javier

  12. Selina

  13. Javier

  14. Selina

  15. Javier

  Part II

  16. Selina

  17. Javier

  18. Selina

  19. Javier

  20. Selina

  21. Javier

  22. Selina

  23. Javier

  24. Selina

  25. Selina

  26. Javier

  27. Javier

  28. Selina

  29. Javier

  30. Selina

  Part III

  31. Javier

  32. Selina

  33. Selina

  34. Javier

  35. Selina

  36. Selina

  37. Javier

  38. Selina

  39. Javier

  Epilogue

  Gold Cage © 2019 Francesca Baez

  * * *

  www.francescabaez.com

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or use of this work in any part is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.

  * * *

  Bang. Bang.

  I jerk up in bed, panting and sweaty. It’s been a few months since I last had that dream, the one that begins with me happy and ends in gunshots. More of a nightmare, I guess.

  I pull my long hair into a loose knot and hold it on top of my head, trying to cool off. It’s a useless gesture in the middle of another Atlanta summer scorcher. I’ll have to talk to Kate about cranking up the A/C. She’ll argue that she’s trying to save me money, as she always does, but I don’t know what the point is of an inheritance like mine if I can’t keep my own home cool.

  Bang. Bang.

  My heart somersaults. That wasn’t part of a dream, that was real. Gunshots, a little muffled, but definitely close. Definitely on the estate. I’ve only heard that sound once before, outside of my nightmares. My throat begins to close up at the memory, my instinct to curl up under the satin duvet and wait for help. My guards will handle the situation. That’s what I pay them for, after all. I grab my phone off the nightstand and call Eddie. He’ll tell me what to do. After an eternal minute, all I get is voicemail. Shit. What’s going on?

  I spring out of bed, slipping into the first shoes I see, the glossy black Louboutins I wore to dinner, and grabbing the silk robe hanging by the door. I pull it on over my lace nightie as I dash down the hall, tying the belt tightly.

  “Kate?” I call out, though I know my nanny-turned-housekeeper sleeps on the other end of the mansion. “Kate? Eddie? Alan?”

  This place is deserted. Even when it was Mom, Dad, Max, and me, we rattled around this oversized palace like loose marbles. Now it’s just me and the tiny handful of help I decided to keep, and still I can never find anyone when I need them. Usually I don’t mind too much, reveling in the privacy or the occasional strange bedfellow to keep me company, but tonight the echo of my own voice down empty halls makes a chill dance up my spine.

  At least I haven’t heard any new gunshots, I tell myself, forcing my scattered, still half-asleep brain to focus on the issue at hand. Although that silence probably means that the intruders are past the guardhouse and well on their way here. To me. Shit.

  “Kate!” I try again, louder this time. I run halfway down the stairs but hesitate on the landing. I don’t know where to go. Dad always talked about installing a panic room, but that never came to be. For the first year I was alone, Eddie tried to get me to learn his emergency plan, but I never paid much attention, and eventually he gave up. Now I’m probably in huge trouble, and I have no idea what to do next. Call the police? I left my phone in my room, figuring Eddie would do that for me. Scream for help? My closest neighbors are well over a mile away.

  I hear footsteps just outside, but before I can decide what direction to let my overwhelming flight instinct take me toward, the front door crashes open. I shriek in a caliber I didn’t know I had in me, jumping back as a handful of strangers storm into my home. There’s three of them, two men and a woman, all dressed in stereotypically clandestine dark outfits and carrying guns. Their gazes all fixate on me immediately—in my scarlet robe against the white wall, I’m like a bullseye—but my eyes lock only on the man in the middle. His dark eyes burn with a want so desperate it makes my blood run cold, a need so deep I know he’ll do anything to get what he came here for. For the first time, it occurs to me that this isn’t going to be a simple B&E, a petty robbery where I lose a couple diamond necklaces and get to carry on with my life tomorrow, a little shaken but nothing a bottle of wine or ten wouldn’t fix. No, this man isn’t an amateur thug here on a whim, and he’s not the kind of man that I walk away from in one piece. This is a predator, and there’s no mistaking what that makes me.

  “Miss Palacios,” the man says, smiling venomously up at me, taking a step closer. He’s not very tall, perhaps only a few inches taller than me, but the way he carries himself all but doubles his height. He’s in a worn leather jacket, and shaggy black hair frames a tanned face. There’s a hint of stubble along his sharp jaw, and his lips twist up into a smirk as he drags those eyes over me. I can’t stop noticing the gun casually held at his side.

  It’s too late for flight, so I throw my shoulders back and force myself into fight mode. Crossing my arms tightly over my chest, both to cover myself from the stranger’s leering gaze and to channel a sense of bravado I don’t truly feel, I cross the landing and preside over the scene with confidence. It’s what my mother would have done, I think. I hope.

  “What do you want?”

  The head guy gestures at the man behind him, and he takes off with a nod. Now it’s just him, me, and the woman in tight leather pants. Is that his girlfriend? Is this how I finally go down, after all the shit I’ve been through, at the hands of some crazy criminal couple? Where the hell are Eddie and Alan? Where is Kate?

  “Your people aren’t going to save you,” the stranger says, as if reading my mind. I know he just guessed at my logical worries, but with the way his dark eyes bore into mine, I almost believe he can see right through me. “It’s just us now.”

  “Did you hurt them?” My voice falters a bit, and I grip the bannister for support.

  “No,” he says, and though I have no reason to believe him, I find that I want to.

  “Then what the hell were those gunshots?” I demand.

  “We were just introducing ourselves,” the man says, still with that goddamn smirk on his lips. The girl cocks her hip and crosses her arms, a much more successful execution of my own attempt at a violent pose.

  “What do you want?” I repeat, knuckles white, voice tremulous. I can’t play brave for much longer. Whatever they want, whatever they came for, they won’t leave empty-handed, and they certainly won’t leave me unbroken.

  “The only thing you have to offer,” the stranger says confidently, not even blinking. “We’re here for your money, Selina.”

  * * *

  She’s beautiful, just like in the pictures. Just like I remember. Even like this, long hair tangled and mussed, face still pale from sleep, eyes wide and terrified despite her facade of false bravado. Rich people. They always think they’re untouchable, until it’s t
oo late.

  I send Miel to bring our captive princess down from her perch on the landing and the three of us go to the sitting room. The mansion is even bigger than it looked in the blueprints, no less than a palace. Everything is cast in shades of pale opulence, from the marble floors to the creamy couch we deposit Selina onto. It’s like a caricature of wealth, and Selina plays a picture perfect princess.

  “What happened to my people?” she asks again, folding her arms tightly around her lithe, practically naked body. I force myself to focus on her face, reminding myself of what I’m here for. I can’t let her distract me.

  “They’re fine,” I assure her, holding any details tantalizingly out of reach. It’s the truth, of course. Sure, they’re currently chained up in our custody, even the old woman, but they’ll live. As long as Selina does as she’s told, we’ll all live.

  Brock returns, giving me a silent nod. All clear. He hands over a phone. When I press the home button, a familiar photo lights up the screen. A happy family of four, with a young Selina smiling in the middle. I press the home button again, but it demands a password. I hand the device off to Miel.

  “Do you want my jewelry?” the terrified young heiress on the sofa asks, licking those lush lips nervously. “I can give you the code to the safe. I don’t keep a lot of cash around, but my purse is here somewhere, if you want that.”

  She really thinks it will be that easy. That she can toss some spare change our way, and then she’ll be rid of us once and for all. I glance at Miel, and she rolls her eyes at me. She thinks I’m overcomplicating the situation. If we had it her way, we’d just chain Miss Palacios up with the other hostages and get on with it.

  “I told you we wanted your money,” I say, taking a seat on the armchair across from Selina. Damn, this thing is not half as comfortable as it looks. “We want all of it, not just what you have on hand. We know how much is in your trust fund, not to mention the revenue from your parents’ company, and we want every last penny.”

  Selina shifts, and the robe slips open a bit, revealing a long, naked leg. I swallow hard, and she pretends not to notice. “You’ll never get away with that. Just take the jewelry and go.”

  I appreciate her boldness, the challenge in her eyes. She’s right. We’d never get away with trying to drain her bank account in one fell swoop. But I’ve been planning this for years, and I’m ready to play the long game. Selina, heiress of the Palacios fortune, renowned semi-reformed party girl, queen of an empire she never knew what to do with, will be our personal piggy bank, until we’ve taken all we want from her and then some. She needs to see that life as she’s known it is over, and that from here on out she’s a puppet, and I’m the only one pulling the strings.

  “We want everything you have, but we’re not going to take it all today,” I explain, crossing my ankle over my knee. “You’re going to be our business partner, our angel investor, signing your money over to us little by little, for as long as it takes.”

  Her tanned face goes pale, but she puts on a good show of bravery. “And why would I do that?”

  On cue, Miel cocks her gun, clicking the safety off. We’d never kill our little moneybag, of course, but a bullet in the leg never hurt anyone.

  “I think it’s pretty obvious we have the upper hand here,” I say, conspicuously getting my own gun back out. Selina licks her lips again, and I see a tremor in her hands, even as she fists them tightly. The threat of violence will do the trick for now, of course, but there always comes a point where trapped fools think they’re beyond that, where they think the police, or some equally useless entity can protect them from physical repercussions. It’ll take more than that to keep her in check forever, which is where her housekeeper and idiotic guards come in. In an ideal world, we’d have family to use as leverage, but Selina is the last remaining Palacios. Luckily, it’s because of her loss that I know she’ll do whatever it takes to protect the makeshift family she has left.

  I stand and cross the distance between us, lowering myself gently onto the couch beside our little captive. She shivers as I lean in close, brush her hair to the side, and breathe against her ear.

  “If you don’t play along, I’ll kill them,” I murmur, in a voice so low even I can barely hear it. “Starting with the old lady.”

  * * *

  My heart stops.

  There’s no way. I can feel the danger emanating off the intruder’s hard body, hot and as seductive as it is terrifying. But even a man this dangerous wouldn’t go so far, just for a little money. Right?

  “I don’t believe you,” I breathe, even though I do.

  The stranger stands, moving back to the armchair across from me. When he sits, looking right into me with those dark eyes, I can believe it. There’s something in him, something broken and desperate. Something that led him here, that made him do everything it took to get to me. To my bank accounts. Suddenly, I wish I hadn’t asked him to prove exactly what he’s capable of.

  He nods again, and his male sidekick pulls out a tablet, taps a couple times, and points the screen at me. My heart stops. I don’t recognize the darkened location, but I certainly recognize the scared faces I see. Kate, Eddie, and Alan, tied to chairs. My trembling hands fly to my chest in concern.

  “One word from me, and my man pulls the trigger,” my tormentor says, and I notice a fourth figure in the image, this one pointing a gun at my people. “I don’t much care if he’s aiming at a foot, a kneecap, or a head, personally. How much proof do you need, Selina?”

  “This…” I begin, but my lungs strangle the sound. With Kate’s weak heart, just the terror of the situation alone could kill her, no bullet needed. I clear my throat and try again. “This is plenty. Please don’t hurt them.”

  I want to believe I’m stronger than this, that I am strong enough to put up more of a fight to defend my family’s fortune, but I’m not, and money is just money. I’ll do anything to protect my people. Most of all, selfish as it may be, I’ll do anything to save myself.

  A loud buzzing interrupts the silence we’re all sitting in. I jump a bit in my seat. The three thugs remain unperturbed. The woman holds up my phone, with the caller ID “ISLA” lighting up the screen.

  “Who is that?” the man asks, taking the phone gingerly, like it’s a ticking time bomb.

  “My neighbor,” I answer honestly, although Isla technically lives well over a mile away. “I don’t know why she’s calling right now. We’re not really friends.”

  He glances back at his team. The guy shrugs, and the girl rolls her eyes for the millionth time.

  “They probably heard the gunshots. I told y’all not to fuck around with that. Give her the phone, Javier, or this neighbor will call the police.”

  Javier. I grab onto that crumb of information desperately, my very first clue. Javier hesitates, then outstretches the phone my way. I go to grab it, but he pulls it back at the last second. Only a few more rings, and it’ll go to voicemail. They’re right. I doubt Isla heard any gunshots from up in her own mansion, the one that makes my home look like a dollhouse, but her guards probably heard something. If I don’t pick up, they’ll either come over to see for themselves, or just call the police.

  “No bullshit,” Javier says, holding up his weapon demonstratively. I nod. As if I hadn’t gotten the picture already. I’m not an idiot. He hands over the phone, and I tap the green button quickly to accept the call before it’s too late.

  “Isla?” I say, trying to control the quake in my voice. Javier mouths something at me. Speaker. I switch the call over to speaker mode and take a deep breath. “What’s up?”

  “What’s going on over there?” Isla asks, her voice impossibly shriller than usual. “We heard gunshots. Are you okay?”

  I close my eyes and scramble for a lie. I feel the sofa shift slightly, and a new pressure against my temple. My eyes snap open. Javier is sitting beside me again, but this time, it’s not his lips that are way too close to my face.

  “Um, yeah,” I say,
biting my lip. “Shit, sorry. I was… I was messing around with some fireworks left over from my Fourth of July party. I have some people over, we’ve been partying, I wasn’t really thinking. I’m so sorry to have woken you, we’ll keep it down now.”

  I can almost hear the tired sigh over the phone. Isla and her husband are barely older than me, but they’re constantly complaining about my “youthful” ways.

  “Okay,” she says at last, yawning a little. “Please try to keep it down, Selina, it’s the crack of dawn. Some of us are trying to sleep. Maybe it’s time to call it a night and go to bed, ‘kay honey?”

  “You’re right,” I say, letting myself feel a little bitter at her condescension even with a gun in my face. “Again, so sorry. Good night, Isla.”

  She hangs up before I even finish my sentence. I exhale loudly as Javier lowers his weapon. That bitch really thinks she’s so much better than me? I know she’s fucking their driver, right under her husband’s nose, too. Of course, neighborhood gossip is the least of my problems right now.

  Javier takes my phone back and stands again, going to confer with his team in hushed tones across the sitting room. I shift uncomfortably, pulling my robe tighter around my half-naked body.