Gilded Cage

by Lizzie Lynn Lee

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Gilded Cage

  ISBN # 978-0-85715-385-2

  ©Copyright Lizzie Lynn Lee 2011

  Cover Art by Lyn Taylor ©Copyright January 2011

  Edited by Delaney Sullivan

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated total-e-burning.

  Gilded Cage

  Lizzie Lynn Lee

  Author’s Note:

  Even though the names and locales are based on real geography, some alterations and the fictitious history have been made to fit into the time line of this story.

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Glock: Glock Inc.

  Rapunzel: Brothers’ Grimm

  Charles Schwab: Charles Schwab Co., Inc.

  Hello Kitty: Sanrio Co. Ltd.

  Beretta: Fabbrica d’Armi P. Beretta S.p.A.

  Humvee: AM General Corporations

  Sherlock Holmes: Sir Arthur Conan Dole

  Styrofoam: The Dow Chemical Company

  Taser: Taser International, Inc.

  Kevlar: E.I. du Pont de Nemours and Company

  Chapter One

  Tokyo, 2067

  Sleep hadn’t been easy for Brandon Shea ever since he went to war. And it hadn’t been easy, either, after he’d returned from the hellhole thirteen months ago. The slightest sound, like a footstep or a sigh of breath, would send him jumping awake. Each time he was interrupted from his sleep, his next habit was to grab his Glock from under his pillow and aim it at the intruder. In Afghanistan, he squeezed the trigger and shot the fools before he even opened his eyes. He was a black ops soldier who had often been deployed solo behind enemy lines. Anybody stupid enough to sneak up on him would be automatically considered his enemy. His rules of engagement didn’t include taking prisoners of war. His job was to scout and kill—heavy on the killing part.

  A train of thought flared across his mind, blaring an alarm that he wasn’t in the war zone before he was compelled to pull the trigger. He opened up his eyes and relaxed his stance. That’s right, I’m not in Kandahr anymore. I’m in Tokyo, the whore of civilisation. He blinked and focused his vision on his intruder. Ghosts from his past flashed before his eyes before he could shake them off. Faces of the enemy combatants he’d killed. Brandon blinked again. The ghosts scattered, replaced by the face of a young woman who stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

  The realisation made his heart stop beating for a second. For the love of God, I almost killed you, kid.

  Brandon gulped a lungful of air, and placed his Glock in his lap. “Miss Blackwell. Nan desu ka?”

  She drew a relieved breath when the barrel of the gun was no longer staring at her. “I speak English, Mr. Shea. Very well.”

  “What is it? What are you doing here?” Brandon repeated his question. His eyes skittered towards the door. The bolt was still locked from the inside. No one could get in unless that person was a ghost. “How did you get in here?”

  Lillian shyly pointed to one side of the wall across from his bed. It had a small rectangle opening he hadn’t noticed before. “That used to be a tokonoma.”

  Tokonoma? Oh, that weird small alcove thing he had seen in traditional Japanese houses.

  “It was connected to my bedroom. I came here often. To hide.”

  “I didn’t know this was one of your rooms. I’m new and Mrs. Mitsusaki gave me this as my bedroom.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why are you here?” Brandon felt irritated. He didn’t like being wakened from sleep. Not when he’d almost blown her pretty head off.

  Lillian pursed her lips and sat at the edge of his bed, her hands folded in her lap. She studied his gun before staring at him with defiance in her eyes. “I have a proposition for you, Mr. Shea.”

  Brandon ran his hand through his hair. “What kind of proposition?”

  She leaned closer. Her icy-blue eyes blazed. “Take me away from this place. Anywhere. I don’t really care.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ll compensate you, of course. I have an account that no one knows about. Not even my father. Take me away from this place and that money is all yours.”

  “Take you away?” Brandon frowned. “Are you nuts?”

  “You didn’t ask how much money I’m prepared to give you.”

  “I don’t care. What you’re asking me to do is wrong.”

  “Mr. Shea,” she whispered urgently. “I don’t want to marry that man.”

  “Marry?” he echoed.

  Seconds later, it dawned on him. Lillian Jasmine Blackwell, his new charge, was recently engaged to a billionaire named Maxwell Stanford. The news about their engagement had been plastered all over the tabloids, newspapers and the TV. He hadn’t paid much attention to it since he hadn’t been working with the Blackwell family at that time. Today was supposed to be his second day in the job as Lillian’s bodyguard. Actually, his shift wouldn’t begin until ten.

  “I just found out my father has set a wedding date. It’s one week from now.” Lillian shuddered. “I hate Maxwell. I’d rather slit my throat than marry him.”

  Brandon forced a blank expression on his face, hoping he’d look at least a bit apathetic, since bodyguards weren’t supposed to meddle in their employers’ business. Maxwell Stanford was infamous for his unsavoury personality and business practices. But he wasn’t worth her slitting her throat.

  Brandon thought hard, choosing his words carefully. “Why don’t you have a word with your father if you don’t want to marry Mr. Stanford?”

  “Are you kidding? When my father wants something, I really don’t have a say in it.”

  Brandon felt pity for her. He’d seen Stanford’s picture before. Maybe he’d watched his interview on a late-night show, too. He recalled a friend of his calling Maxwell Stanford ‘toad man,’ and the billionaire lived up to the nickname. The man looked like a whisky barrel that had sprouted arms and legs. Almost as if God had been totally wasted when He’d created Standford, and that no amount of plastic surgery could ever make him decent to look at. Oddly enough, he’d heard Stanford was a world-renowned Casanova. His conquests included celebrities, models and actresses. Brandon found it disturbing to see a man’s wealth could make people overlook his true personality.

  Lillian Blackwell, on the other hand, was the exact opposite of Stanford. Her beauty was breathtaking. Large blue eyes, pert nose, sumptuous lips. Divine long legs with a slender and firm body. But one thing that caught his attention the most was her hair. The silky golden tresses of hers seemed to flow
forever. It fell past her back, waist, hips and ended just below her knees. When Brandon saw her for the first time, Lillian was sitting in the terrace with her hair loose, draping her like a silky golden curtain. She reminded him of Rapunzel from the fairytale book he’d read when he was little. To think a toad-like man like Stanford would marry a beautiful nubile woman like Lillian. A shame, indeed.

  “Look, kid…”

  “I’m twenty years old. I’m hardly a kid.”

  “I’m thirty-four and that makes you a kid to me.”

  A scowl erupted on her pretty face.

  “Listen, Ms. Blackwell. I can’t smuggle you out of this place. I’m your bodyguard. My job is to protect you.”

  “Then protect me from him!” Lillian seized his hands and squeezed them. Her voice was strained with desperation. She looked as if she was about to cry. “You know Stanford isn’t marrying me because he loves me. He’s marrying me for my father’s fortune. And my father needs his power and protection to stay in business.”

  Any fool could see what was happening. The engagement and soon-to-be wedding of the century from two of the biggest entities in the world was based strictly on business. Not love. To be honest, Brandon found it distasteful. But it wasn’t his business, really. His military training and career had taught him to never nose around where he didn’t belong and always stick to the mission assigned to him. In this case, his main objective was to keep Lillian Blackwell alive and safe from anybody who might hurt her physically. The welfare of her emotional state wasn’t listed in his job description.

  “Ms. Blackwell, I can’t take your offer. I need this job.”

  Something in her eyes went dead in an instant. A surge of guilt raked through him. Brandon couldn’t help her without jeopardising his own neck. He really needed the job. About three weeks ago, his former commanding officer had called him out of the blue and offered Brandon work in the private sector. His CO had heard that Brandon had fallen into hardship ever since he’d been discharged from the military. Desperately needing money and a fresh start, Brandon had agreed to fly to Japan the next day as a bodyguard for the daughter of the richest man the world, William Blackwell. Spiriting Lillian away from her father and Maxwell Stanford would be asking for a date with a noose.

  “Ms. Blackwell, did you ask others about this?” Brandon knew Lillian’s security team was comprised of more than a dozen highly trained ex-military personnel. Some of them were ex-Seals and Delta Force, and all of them were extremely well paid. The Blackwell family knew how to buy their staff’s loyalty.

  “No.” Lillian twisted her fingers until her knuckles went white. “I’ve only asked you.”

  “Why me?”

  Her sombre eyes met his. “I thought you were different, Mr. Shea. I thought you were the one. I guess I was wrong.” She rose and bowed her head. “Gomen’nasai.”

  She crawled back into the tokonoma’s hole and slid the partition closed. Brandon wished he could do something to comfort her. Poor kid. He thought fate loved screwing with him until he hit rock bottom, but God had certainly had His joke when He’d indulged a man like Stanford, giving him an opportunity to ravish an innocent beauty like Lillian. Gah. He didn’t know why but the image of Lillian in Stanford’s bed made bile rise into his throat. He involuntarily shuddered, fighting the bad taste in the back of his mouth.

  Poor kid.

  She should have known that in real life, a knight in shining armour didn’t exist. Let alone expect him to save a damsel in distress. When Lillian saw her new bodyguard for the first time, she’d thought someone had finally answered her prayers. Brandon Shea could be her knight in shining armour, the one who’d take her away from this prison and set her free. Maybe if she was lucky, she could have that happy-ever-after ending as well.

  When Mr. Gray, the head of the security executives, had told her she’d be getting a new bodyguard, she thought he’d be like the others before him. Brandon replaced Wolfe, a German-born security exec who looked as scary as his name. Wolfe loved ogling her when nobody was around, watching her as if he wanted to eat her alive. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was thinking. Lillian wasn’t stupid. Though she didn’t relish misfortune on others, she was relieved when Wolfe was fired from Mr. Gray’s security team. He’d sustained a serious injury from the bar fight he’d gotten into in his R-n-R time. Kurt Wolfe made her nervous.

  Then she’d met her new bodyguard.

  Brandon Shea wasn’t like any man who’d worked for her father before. For one, he had these smoulderingly intense, but kind, eyes. One look told her she could trust him with her life. And unlike Mr. Gray’s men, Brandon didn’t conform to the standard grooming rules. He let his straight raven hair fall below his shoulders and it seemed as if he’d never bothered with his stubble, either. Still, he was one hell of a striking man, and one of the best-looking guys she’d ever met in person. Everything about Brandon Shea screamed rebellion. She didn’t know if those qualities were what attracted her to him, but by God, she found herself with a big crush on the new bodyguard.

  After weighing all of her options, she’d taken a chance and approached him. Since he was new, she thought she might be able to buy him with her secret savings. Lillian didn’t have high expectations. Years of living under her father’s strict rule had taught her to never harbour high hopes or she’d be crushed under them later. What she’d dreaded had come true when Brandon rejected her proposition flat out. Lillian understood his reasons. What she’d asked of him was equal to suicide. Mr. Gray and his men would hunt them down like sewer rats if Brandon dared to spirit her away. She’d just thought he’d be different. She’d guessed wrong.

  Lillian stared at her lunch with dismay. Salad again. The small plate of shredded iceberg lettuce with two thin slices of hard-boiled egg and vinegar dressing mocked her back. She longed for something filling, like bread or rice, or something meaty and greasy. A burger would be nice, like the ones she saw on the commercials. Wonder what they tasted like? Lillian had never eaten what they called junk food. Mrs. Mitsusaki had put her on strict diet based on her father’s order, saying he wasn’t keen on having a fat daughter.

  Her stomach growled. Lillian stabbed her fork, shovelling the meagre salad into her mouth. She ate slowly, wanting to savour every morsel of food. Her lunch was the first meal she’d had since yesterday. Mr. Strauss, her violin tutor, had been displeased with her performance in a particularly difficult solo, so her father had punished her by depriving her of her meals. Her father used food as a form of punishment to keep her in line. She starved a lot. Lillian thought it rather ironic that she often went hungry when her family sat on enormous amounts of wealth. Starvation should have been the least of her worries.

  Mrs. Mitsusaki entered the dining room. Her eyes strayed to her plate before she regarded her with a stoic expression. The head caretaker had never showed her emotions. Sometimes, Lillian wondered if Mrs. Mitsusaki was even capable of showing any.

  “Miss Blackwell, your father is here. He’s ready for you.”

  When her father said he was ready for her, he meant she must present herself immediately. Failure to do so would result in more punishments. She’d once gone as long as five days without food for defying him and she’d had to be hospitalised afterwards. It was an awful experience she didn’t want to go through again. Lillian scarfed down her salad and drained the lemonade in several gulps. It was bad manners, but she didn’t want to waste her food. Fervent hunger had been gnawing at the pit of her stomach since last night. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and nodded at the caretaker. Mrs. Mitsusaki, with her expressionless plastic face, bowed. Lillian followed her into the drawing room.

  Her father was sitting near the fireplace when she entered. He regarded her with an uninterested gaze and whipped a finger towards an empty chair. Lillian sat quietly with both arms folded in her lap, face forward, back straight, no noise, just the way her father liked it.

  “Miss Liu has your wedding gown ready. I want you to t
ry it on.”

  She acknowledged him with a small nod. Lillian wasn’t permitted to talk unless her father told her to.

  A woman in a cornflower-coloured dress came into the room and beamed at her. Georgia Liu was a famous wedding-gown designer. Her clientele included celebrities, movie stars and royalty. Lillian wasn’t surprised. Of course, her father and Maxwell Stanford wanted her to look her best on her wedding day where every reporter in the world would be covering their wedding. The wedding she deeply dreaded.

  “You look even prettier in person, Lillian.” Georgia Liu smothered her with praise. “I’m delighted with the opportunity of dressing you up. Oh, Heaven, it’s going to be fun-fun-fun.” She turned to Lillian’s father and tapped his shoulder playfully. “You must be so proud of her, having such a beautiful daughter like Lillian.”

  Her father shot the clueless designer a cold look. Lillian mourned in silence. It appeared Ms. Designer didn’t know how things worked around here. One didn’t just praise Lillian Blackwell and expect a conspiratorial pat on the back. Her father thought unnecessary compliments would only give her a big head. He despised that.

  However, Georgia Liu remained oblivious. She tugged Lillian’s hand up. “Come, dear. Let’s try on that dress.”

  Lillian stole a glance at her father. When he gave a nod of approval, she rose from her seat and stalked behind the chatty designer.

  One of the guest rooms had been transformed into a fitting room. Georgia Liu had brought three assistants and dozens of boxes, bags and cases as if they were ready to move into the place. Lillian saw her wedding dress fitted onto a dress form. It was a beautiful gown, white and regal, definitely tailored for a fairytale princess. Lillian loathed it in an instant. That wedding dress was a mark of her new bondage. With it, she would belong to Maxwell Stanford.

  A cold chill surged through her at the very thought.

  “What do you think? Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

  Lillian wondered what her father would do if she threw up on it. She forced a smile and answered politely. “Beautiful.”

  Her voice still sounded grating and disdainful. One of Georgia’s assistants gave her a look as if to say she was a spoilt brat.