Chapter 8 - The Gilded Cage
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The penthouse at the top of the Romano Tower was a masterpiece of modern luxury, offering panoramic views of the Chicago skyline.
To Chloe, it felt exactly like a prison.
Arthur had moved her directly from the underground clinic to the penthouse, surrounding the building with a private army. She was forbidden from leaving. She was forbidden from standing near the windows. She wasn't even allowed to order her own food without it passing through a rigorous security check.
“I am going out of my mind, Arthur,” Chloe snapped, pacing the length of the massive living room.
Arthur sat on the leather sofa, reviewing tactical reports on a tablet. He looked up, his expression hardening.
“You are on bed rest, Chloe. Dr. Evans was very specific.”
“I am pregnant, not paralyzed,” she argued, crossing her arms over her swollen belly. “I have spent the last two weeks locked in this glass box. I haven't seen my brother. I haven't been to my diner. I am losing my mind.”
“Your brother is perfectly safe under my protection detail, and the diner is closed until the war is over,” Arthur replied, his voice maintaining its frustratingly calm, authoritative tone.
“You don't get to control my life!” Chloe shouted, the pent-up stress finally boiling over.
Arthur dropped the tablet. He stood up, crossing the room in three long strides, his massive frame towering over her.
“I am trying to keep you alive!” Arthur roared, the facade of control cracking. “Malcolm Croft sent three hit squads to this building in the last four days! They want to cut my child out of you to send me a message! I am not trying to control you, Chloe. I am trying to ensure you live to see our baby born!”
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Chloe stared at him, the reality of his brutal world washing over her. She saw the deep, agonizing fear in his eyes.
She reached out, gently touching his chest. “I know. But if I don't get to live my life, Arthur, then Malcolm has already won.”
