Chapter 3 - The Golden Cage
By three in the morning, Sadi was no longer in the staff quarters.
Victor had personally escorted her up the grand winding staircase to the third floor of the mansion—an area strictly off-limits to domestic staff. He led her into a breathtaking master suite featuring plush velvet armchairs, a roaring marble fireplace, and a king-sized bed wrapped in silk sheets.
A private physician, Dr. Evans, was already waiting. He spent twenty minutes cleaning Sadi's chemical burns, applying medical-grade salves, and wrapping both her hands in soft, sterile gauze.
"No cleaning, no harsh chemicals, and complete rest for at least two weeks," Dr. Evans instructed, giving Sadi a warm smile before turning to Victor. "She was dangerously close to severe tissue infection, Victor."
"Thank you, Doctor," Victor said, gesturing for Gabriel to show the doctor out.
Once the door clicked shut, the silence in the massive room became heavy. Sadi sat on the edge of the plush bed, looking down at her bandaged hands, feeling completely out of place in the opulent room.
Victor stood by the fireplace, pouring himself two fingers of dark amber whiskey. He took a slow sip, watching her over the rim of his glass.
"Why didn't you ask for an advance?" Victor asked, his voice low in the quiet room.
"Housekeepers don't ask mob bosses for loans," Sadi said plainly, raising her eyes to meet his. "I thought... I thought if I drew attention to myself, I'd lose the only job that was keeping Sam alive."
Victor set his glass on the mantle and walked slowly toward the bed. Every step he took radiated power, yet his movements were slow, giving her time to adjust to his presence. He stopped two feet in front of her, looking down at her frail frame.
"You've been scrubbing my floors for eight months," Victor said quietly. "I watched you work. You never looked up, never complained, never asked for help. Even when your hands were burning."
Sadi swallowed hard. "I did what I had to do for my family."
"I respect that more than anything in this world, Sadi," Victor confessed, his thumb reaching out to trace the curve of her jaw with astonishing gentleness. "Family is the only thing worth fighting for."
His phone chimed in his pocket. He pulled it out, checked the encrypted message, and turned the screen toward her.
It was a photograph of her brother, Sam, sleeping comfortably in a high-tech private hospital room. Two towering men in dark suits stood guard outside the glass door, while a team of top-tier nurses checked his vitals.
Tears sprang to Sadi's eyes again, but this time they were tears of immense relief. "He's safe?"
"He has the best oncologists in the country on his case as of twenty minutes ago," Victor confirmed. "His treatments are fully funded. He will want for nothing."
Sadi looked up at him, her chest swelling with a dangerous mixture of gratitude and confusion. "Why are you doing this for me, Victor? What do you want in return?"
Victor leaned down, his face inches from hers, his dark eyes blazing with a fierce, possessive warmth that made her breath hitch.
"Mick O'Shea thought he could use you to flex his power in my city," Victor whispered, his breath warm against her lips. "Tomorrow night, I am hosting the annual Syndicate Gala at the Grand Plaza. Every crime family, politician, and cartel representative in the region will be in that ballroom."
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"What does that have to do with me?" Sadi asked, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"You are coming with me," Victor declared boldly. "Dressed in silk, wearing my family's jewels on your neck. I am going to stand before the entire city and announce that you belong to Victor Costello. And anyone who ever thought of hurting you will realize they’d have to burn down Chicago to reach you."
