His Heart Is My Cage

Ethan's posture was submissive. His voice trembled with desperate longing as he said, "Clara, marry me. I swear on my life. I'll never hurt or fail you. If I could, I'd give you my very breath."

His words dragged me back to the past when he was 17.

"Clara, I'll protect you with my life. Just promise you'll stay with me forever, okay?" he had said to me.

He'd kept that promise. He'd charged into a blazing inferno against all reasons and carried my unconscious body to safety.

I couldn't tell which of his words were sincere. But with two days left before my planned escape, I forced a brittle smile. "Yes."

Ethan's face lit like a child handed the stars. He crushed me against his chest, fingers digging into my back as if I might dissolve.

"We'll get the license now," he breathed, grabbing my hands.

I stiffened and fabricated a lie. "But I have something to do today. Let's get it another time."

His smile dimmed but didn't die.

Later that evening, before he could warm my milk, I took the initiative and prepared a glass for him, laced with extra ingredients.

Unsuspecting, he drank it with a sweet smile.

Even when he was unconscious, his arms vised around me in sleep and his legs tangled with mine like possessive vines.

Deep into the night, his regular breathing filled the air beside me. I crept downstairs, my heart thumping in my chest.

My flashlight beam shook as it landed on the cage.

Gold bars gleamed under the harsh lights. Inside it was Ethan's hidden, treasured woman.

The girl was peacefully sleeping, her face almost identical to mine, still holding onto traces of tears.

She woke up at the sound of me approaching and shot me a defiant look.

"Oh," she drawled. "You must be the woman Ethan keeps outside. How did you enjoy that toasty warmth?"

Her words struck me like a thunderclap, further confirming the thoughts I had.

"My name is Chiara Green," she chirped. "It's been seven years since I've seen sunlight. Ethan says UV rays harm porcelain skin."

She lifted a skeletal leg, and bile rose in my throat. Her once delicate calves were grotesquely twisted, the bones deformed as if broken by some violent force and left untreated.

But Chiara seemed unbothered, even smiling with bashfulness.

"A few days ago, he let me out," she giggled, burying her face in the white blanket. "But when I flirted with another man for an ice cream, he got jealous and broke my leg. Isn't he so possessive?"

My gaze caught on the bedsheet—crusty splotches blooming like fungal rot. Having long since shed any naivety, I instantly recognized what it was.

I retched, my fingers scrabbling at the cage bars.

"What are you doing?" Chiara shrieked suddenly, cradling the padlock like a lover's face. "Don't you dare ruin the home Ethan built for me!"

I flinched, and she murmured, "This is a golden lock, made with all of Ethan's love. What will happen if you break it? He'll be so angry."

My brows knitted together. "Don't you want to get out?"

She tilted her head. "Why should I? You're the shield against his enemies. If I went out and got hurt, his heart would break."

The truth detonated in my chest.