Chapter 6 - The Golden Cage
Two days later, the private convoy pulled through the massive iron security gates of the Voss estate in Palmer Woods.
It wasn't just a house; it was an eighteen-thousand-square-foot limestone castle surrounded by twelve-foot stone walls, infrared security cameras, and automated iron gates. Guard dogs patrolled the perimeter grounds, and armed men in black suits walked two-man patrols every twenty minutes.
I stepped out of the Escalade, carrying a sleeping Belle in my arms, wrapped in a fluffy pink blanket.
Harlan stepped out beside me, holding a black leather umbrella over our heads to shield us from the light snowfall.
“Welcome to your new cage, Rue,” Harlan murmured softly as we walked up the grand stone steps toward the massive oak front doors.
“It looks like a fortress,” I whispered, looking up at the high stone turrets.
“It has to be,” Harlan said, holding the door open for us. “Inside these walls, Belle is untouchable. And so are you.”
The grand foyer was breathtaking. Soaring ceilings, twin marble staircases, crystal chandeliers, and a roaring fireplace that filled the massive space with a warm, amber glow.
A middle-aged woman in a crisp gray uniform stepped forward, bowing her head respectfully. “Welcome home, Don Harlan. Miss Belle.”
“Mrs. Gable, this is Rue Callaway,” Harlan introduced me smoothly. “She is Belle’s personal guardian. Her word in this house carries the same weight as mine. Show her to her wing.”
Mrs. Gable’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she quickly curtsied. “Right this way, Miss Callaway.”
I carried Belle up the marble staircase to the west wing of the mansion.
My private suite was larger than my entire old apartment building. It featured a king-sized canopy bed, a private sitting room with a fireplace, a walk-in closet filled with designer clothes in my exact size, and a connecting door directly into Belle’s bedroom.
After tucking Belle into her soft, canopy bed, I walked into my sitting room and sat down on the plush velvet sofa, letting out a long, exhausted sigh.
A soft knock rattled the connecting door.
Harlan walked in, carrying two crystal glasses and a bottle of expensive red wine. He had removed his coat, rolling his sleeves up, looking dangerously relaxed.
He poured a glass, handing it to me. “You look like you’ve survived a war.”
“I’ve worked three double shifts in a row at the diner before,” I said, taking the glass. “This feels harder. Floating in luxury while knowing there are people outside trying to kill a child.”
Harlan sat down on the leather armchair across from me, his long legs crossed at the ankle. “You handled Julian well at the hospital. I saw you watching him through the door gap.”
I froze, my wine glass halfway to my lips. “You knew I was listening?”
“I know everything that happens within ten feet of me, Rue,” Harlan said, a faint, dark smirk touching his lips. “What did you think of my dear half-brother?”
I took a slow sip of wine, letting the smooth red liquid warm my throat. “He’s terrified of you. But he’s greedy. His hands were shaking when you mentioned the security code.”
Harlan’s eyes glinted with dark approval. “Observant. Most people just see his expensive suit and charming smile. You see the rat underneath.”
“Why haven't you killed him yet?” I asked bluntly.
Harlan leaned forward, his pale gray eyes fixing onto mine with terrifying intensity. “Because killing Julian now makes him a martyr for the board. I need him to lead me directly to Carmine Moretti’s contact in Detroit. I want the entire snake head, not just the tail.”
He reached out, his large, warm hand covering mine resting on the sofa cushion. His touch was electric, sending a sharp, thrilling shock straight down my spine.
“You’re safe here, Rue,” Harlan whispered, his voice deep and magnetic. “I promise you.”
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I looked down at his large hand covering mine, then up into those icy eyes that held the power of an entire city.
For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like a broke, helpless waitress running from an eviction notice. I felt like I was standing beside a king preparing for a siege.
