Captive Of The Ruthless Underground Boss

The Maybach was dead silent. The heat blasted from the vents, but June could not stop shaking. She wrapped her arms around her knees, pressing herself into the corner of the leather seat. Gage sat on the other side. He wrapped a white silk handkerchief around his bleeding forearm. His dark eyes never left June's face. He watched her shiver like a predator studying a wounded bird. The car turned off the highway. It drove into a massive, private forest on Long Island. They passed through three separate, heavily guarded iron gates. The outside world disappeared completely. The Maybach pulled up to a sprawling, Gothic-style stone estate. Its massive towers cast long, dark shadows over the driveway. The driver parked. A bodyguard opened Gage's door and held an umbrella. Gage stepped out. He turned around, reached into the car, and grabbed June by the ankle. He yanked her forward. June screamed as she fell out of the car. Her knees hit the wet marble steps. The cut on her hand tore open again. Blood mixed with the freezing rain and ran down her fingers. Gage did not care. He grabbed the back of her wet coat collar. He dragged her up the steps and through the massive front doors like a dead weight. The grand foyer was blindingly bright. A massive crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling. Two rows of maids and butlers stood against the walls, their heads bowed. No one dared to look up. June kicked her legs. Her scuffed heels squeaked against the polished marble floor. She screamed for help, but her voice just echoed off the high, painted ceiling. Gage laughed coldly. He dragged her toward a heavy wooden door that led to the basement. He told her she was going to live in the dark from now on. June squeezed her eyes shut. She braced herself for the pain of being thrown down a flight of concrete stairs. "Enough!" An old, powerful voice cracked like a whip from the second-floor balcony. Gage's hand froze on June's collar. A flash of pure irritation crossed his face. He stopped moving. June scrambled backward, her hands slipping on the marble. She looked up toward the voice. An elderly woman with perfectly styled silver hair stood at the top of the sweeping staircase. Beatrice Becker wore a dark, tailored suit. She leaned heavily on a cane topped with a massive ruby. Beatrice looked down at the foyer. She saw June shivering on the floor, covered in mud and blood. The old woman's brow furrowed in deep disapproval. June saw the disgust in the woman's eyes-not toward her, but toward Gage. She pushed herself up and ran to the bottom of the stairs. She fell to her knees right below Beatrice. June grabbed the hem of Beatrice's skirt. She sobbed, her voice breaking as she begged the old woman to save her, swearing that Gage was going to kill her. Gage took three long strides across the foyer. He reached for June, yelling at her to get her dirty hands off his grandmother. Beatrice lifted her cane. She slammed the rubber tip down onto the marble floor. The loud thud echoed like a gunshot. Gage stopped instantly. Beatrice glared at her grandson. She demanded to know if he was trying to turn the Becker family home into a mafia torture chamber. Gage ground his teeth together. He pointed to his bloody arm. He told Beatrice the girl was a violent threat. Beatrice looked down at June's bleeding hand and her blue lips. A complicated look of pity flashed in the old woman's eyes. Beatrice unclasped the thick cashmere shawl from her own shoulders. She bent down and wrapped it tightly around June's shaking body. The sudden warmth of the fabric broke June. She buried her face in the soft cashmere and sobbed uncontrollably. Beatrice stood up straight. She ordered the head butler to prepare a warm guest room on the second floor immediately. She told him to call the family doctor. Gage stepped forward, his fists clenched. He argued that this was his house and she was his prisoner. Beatrice let out a cold laugh. She reminded Gage that until she was dead, she controlled the family trust, and she made the rules. Two older maids hurried forward. They gently helped June to her feet and led her up the stairs toward the guest wing. June reached the landing. She looked back over her shoulder. Gage stood in the center of the foyer. He looked like an enraged lion. His black eyes locked onto her, promising violence. June followed the maids down the hall, leaving Gage standing below.