Chapter 18 – A New Cage
The city below looked quiet from the height of Kade Val's penthouse, its lights stretched like constellations, disconnected from the chaos of Aria's life. But even at twenty-three floors up, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching.
Maybe that fear had followed her in.
She stepped away from the floor-to-ceiling windows, rubbing her belly absently. Four months in and her body felt foreign—hungrier, moodier, softer. The worst part? The cravings had grown ridiculous.
Right now, she wanted mangoes soaked in lemon juice, with crushed ice and sea salt. Nothing else would do.
Kade had insisted she move in after the second threat. The way his jaw had set, eyes dark and unreadable, she'd known there would be no arguing. And honestly, part of her had been too tired to fight. Being constantly alert, checking over her shoulder, double-locking her doors—it had worn her down.
The penthouse wasn't what she'd expected. It was sleek and minimalist, but surprisingly warm. Cream tones, polished wood floors, soft lighting. The place didn't scream billionaire as much as it whispered control.
A chef had already prepared a full spread in the kitchen—though Aria had ignored most of it.
Kade stepped into the room now, fresh from a call, jacket gone, sleeves rolled up.
"They've locked down the floor. No one gets in without clearance," he said, as if that would calm her nerves.
But she wasn't listening.
"I need mangoes," she said suddenly.
He blinked. "What?"
"Mangoes with lemon juice. And crushed ice. With sea salt," she added, rubbing her stomach.
"Is that… safe?"
"It's not poison," she muttered. "It's a craving."
He blinked again, processing it like a business transaction.
"I'll have someone get it. Anything else?"
She opened her mouth, then paused. "Actually… pickles. Spicy ones. And maybe ice cream."
He stared.
"Don't look at me like that," she snapped. "It's your child."
Kade chuckled softly. "Noted. Mangoes, pickles, and ice cream. Got it."
As he stepped out of the room to make the call, Aria let herself drop onto the oversized sofa. Everything here was clean, quiet, guarded. But she didn't feel safe. Not really. She felt… watched. Controlled.
Protected? Maybe.
But free? Never.
The phone in her lap buzzed. She jumped, heart skipping—but it was a message from her friend Elise.
You okay? Haven't seen you at work. Heard something crazy is going on.
Aria hesitated, then typed:
Just needed time off. Baby things. I'm fine.
She didn't add the part about the threats, the strange calls, or the woman asking about her. No one else needed to be pulled into this storm.
Kade returned fifteen minutes later, dropping a bag of groceries on the kitchen island.
"I called the driver. He picked up everything. And I made the chef leave for the night so you can have space."
She blinked, surprised. "Really?"
"I know you don't like being hovered over," he said simply.
That… felt true. And oddly thoughtful.
She unpacked the mangoes, slicing them quickly while Kade leaned against the counter, watching.
"You're getting better with the knife," he remarked.
"I've had practice," she muttered.
He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn't.
By the time she'd finished her craving dish, she felt halfway human again.
"Better?" he asked, handing her a napkin.
She nodded reluctantly. "Thanks."
He hovered a second longer, then asked, "Can I sit?"
She shrugged. "It's your place."
He took the armchair opposite her, stretching his legs, watching her with something unreadable in his gaze.
"Aria… do you think you'll ever stop hating me?"
She didn't answer right away.
"I don't hate you," she said finally. "I hate that I still care."
His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
"I don't know how to fix what I broke," he admitted.
"You can't," she whispered. "But you can be better."
Silence stretched between them.
"I want to be," he said.
For a moment, they sat in the soft light, surrounded by the quiet buzz of the penthouse and the steady hum of the world below.
Then her phone buzzed again.
Unknown Number.
No message this time—just the call.
Her blood went cold. She didn't answer. Let it ring.
Kade saw her face. "Them?"
She nodded.
He stood abruptly, grabbing her phone and walking into the study, likely handing it off to his tech team to trace. Aria rubbed her temples, exhaustion dragging at her spine.
By the time he came back, his expression was a shade darker.
"They used a rotating ID mask. It reroutes the number through a fake exchange."
"In English?"
"They're smart. But we'll catch them."
She didn't respond. She didn't want promises—just peace.
That night, Aria lay in the massive guest room Kade had prepared for her, surrounded by silence and the weight of her thoughts. The sheets smelled like lavender and comfort. But she couldn't sleep.
Somewhere out there, someone was still watching.
And they weren't done yet.
In a dark room across the city, a man sat in front of a wall of screens, one displaying a footage of the Val penthouse (the estate) .
A woman appeared on-screen, sunglasses covering half her face.
She turned toward the camera and smiled.
"She's exactly where I want her," the man murmured.