Chapter 4 - The Golden Cage
By morning, news of the ruined engagement had swept through Chicago’s underworld like a wildfire. The headlines of the city’s major newspapers proclaimed the shock split between the Marchetti and Ashford families, though the true reason—the poisoned glass and the bloody whip—was kept strictly within the shadows of the elite.
Adeline woke up in a bed larger than the entire studio apartment she used to rent. The sheets were high-thread-count silk, soft against her bandaged arms. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of her new room on the penthouse floor of the Marchetti estate.
A light knock sounded at the door. Before she could answer, two female tailors stepped into the room carrying racks of elegant, high-end dresses, silk blouses, and tailored trousers.
"Mr. Marchetti’s orders, Miss Croft," one of them said respectfully.
Adeline felt uncomfortable as they measured her, dressing her in a high-collared, emerald-green silk dress that completely concealed the bandages on her arms. It was luxurious, beautiful, and felt entirely like a uniform of a different kind. She was no longer a servant, but she was still captive in a golden cage.
When she descended the stairs to the private dining room, Enzo was already seated at the head of a long table, reading through financial ledgers while sipping black coffee. He looked up as she entered, his dark eyes lingering on her for a fraction of a second before returning to his neutral mask.
"Sit," he said, gesturing to the seat at his right.
Adeline sat down cautiously. Servants—people who had been her peers yesterday—quietly set down a plate of fresh fruit, poached eggs, and coffee before her. They avoided her eyes, looking at her with a mixture of fear and envy.
"You look better," Enzo noted without raising his eyes from his paperwork.
"I feel like an imposter, Mr. Marchetti," Adeline said honestly. "Yesterday I was scrubbing your floors. Today I am wearing clothes that cost more than my father earned in a year."
"Power is an illusion, Adeline," Enzo said, closing his ledger with a soft snap. "Yesterday you were a maid because you let people treat you like one. Today you are sitting at my table because you showed you have a spine. Do not apologize for surviving."
Before she could process his words, Luca stepped into the dining room, his expression tense.
"Boss, Arthur Ashford is downstairs in the courtyard," Luca reported. "He brought six armed men with him. He’s demanding to see you. He says the Morettis are already moving in on his shipping territory now that your alliance is broken."
Enzo didn't look flustered. He calmly picked up his coffee cup and took a sip. "Arthur always was a weak strategist. He relies on noise because he has no teeth."
"Should we shoot them?" Luca asked casually.
"No," Enzo said, rising from the table. He looked at Adeline. "Come with me."
"Me?" Adeline gasped. "Sir, Arthur Ashford hates me. If he sees me—"
"If he sees you, he will understand that my decisions are absolute," Enzo said coldly, extending his arm to her. "You are with me now, Adeline. No one in this city touches what belongs to me."
Adeline hesitated, then placed her bandaged hand onto his forearm. His muscle felt like solid steel under the fine fabric of his suit.
They walked out onto the grand marble balcony overlooking the front courtyard. Below, Arthur Ashford stood beside a black sedan, flanked by six muscular guards carrying heavy handguns inside their jackets. His face was red with fury as he looked up at the balcony.
"Marchetti!" Arthur bellowed. "You disgraced my daughter! You ruined our contract for a filthy servant girl!"
Enzo leaned against the stone railing, looking down at the older man with cold disdain. "You disgraced yourself, Arthur. You brought a spoiled child into my house and thought I would trade my honor for your rotting docks."
"The Morettis are burning my warehouses!" Arthur shouted, his voice cracking. "Without your protection, we are finished! Reinstate the engagement, or I swear to God, I’ll burn every shipment you have coming through the Chicago river!"
Enzo chuckled—a low, terrifying sound that made the air feel suddenly cold.
"You threaten me on my own steps, Arthur?" Enzo asked softly.
With a swift, elegant motion, Enzo pulled a sleek silver revolver from his shoulder holster. Without hesitation, he aimed down at the courtyard and pulled the trigger twice.
BANG. BANG.
The bullets struck the pavement an inch from Arthur Ashford's shoes, sending concrete splinters flying into the air. Arthur shrieked, jumping backward and falling onto his hands and knees in the gravel. His six guards instantly reached for their weapons, but before they could draw, fifty armed men appeared on the roofs and surrounding balconies of the Marchetti estate, aiming automatic rifles down at them.
The courtyard went dead silent.
"Next time I aim an inch higher," Enzo said calmly, returning the gun to his coat. "Leave Chicago by tonight, Arthur. If I see your face in this city tomorrow, I will give your shipping docks to the Morettis myself."
Arthur scrabbled back into his car, terrified, and his driver sped out through the iron gates, leaving a cloud of dust behind.
Enzo turned back to Adeline. She was staring at him, her heart hammering in her chest.
"Are you frightened?" Enzo asked, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper.
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"You just started a war," Adeline said softly.
"No," Enzo replied, taking her hand into his broad, warm palm. "The war started years ago. Now, I am simply finishing it."
