Chapter 3 - The Golden Cage
Hannah stared blankly at Marco, her exhausted mind refusing to process the terrifying words he had just spoken.
"Collateral?" she gasped out, her shaking legs growing completely weak beneath her once again.
Damen caught her effortlessly by the waist, his strong grip firm and completely uncompromising.
"We are leaving this location right now," he commanded, guiding her swiftly down the shadowed back stairwell.
Within twenty tense minutes, Hannah found herself standing quietly in the center of a sprawling, magnificent penthouse overlooking the beautiful Chicago skyline.
Massive floor-to-ceiling windows bathed the luxurious, modern space in bright natural light, but the room still felt incredibly cold.
"This is my primary secure residence," Damen explained calmly, tossing his heavy keys onto a sleek marble table.
"You will be entirely safe here, and absolutely nobody gets past the main lobby without my personal authorization."
Hannah wrapped her arms tightly around herself, feeling completely out of place in her cheap, damp clothes.
"I cannot just hide in this tower forever, I have desperate patients who rely on me at the community clinic," she argued defensively.
Damen poured a small glass of amber liquid from an expensive crystal decanter, his intense eyes never leaving her pale face.
"Your public clinic is currently the absolute most dangerous place you could possibly be."
"I am a dedicated nurse, Damen, saving innocent lives is the only meaningful thing I have left!" she yelled loudly, her passionate voice echoing in the vast room.
A heavy silence stretched between them, thick and incredibly tense with dangerous, unspoken emotions.
Damen finally sighed heavily, rubbing the sharp bridge of his nose as if fighting a massive, blinding headache.
"Fine, you can go to work tomorrow morning, but you will take my elite security detail with you."
Hannah agreed reluctantly, knowing deep down it was the only compromise she would ever get from a stubborn man like him.
The very next morning, the crowded clinic was an absolute picture of organized chaos.
Hannah busied herself with treating sick patients, trying desperately to ignore the two massive men in dark suits standing rigidly by the front glass doors.
During her brief lunch break, she stepped quietly into the isolated supply closet to restock essential bandages.
The overhead fluorescent lights suddenly flickered wildly and died completely, plunging the small room into absolute, terrifying darkness.
A rough, gloved hand clamped aggressively over her mouth from behind before she could even scream.
"Do not make a single sound, sweetheart," a heavy, thickly accented voice hissed directly into her ear.
She struggled desperately against the massive form, but the attacker pressed a freezing cold steel blade directly against her throat.
As she kicked wildly backward, her shoe caught the edge of a tall metal shelf, sending heavy medical boxes crashing loudly to the tile floor.
The heavy supply closet door was instantly kicked completely off its hinges by one of Damen's heavily armed guards.
Bright hallway light spilled into the tiny room, illuminating the intricate, terrifying spiderweb tattoo on her attacker's thick neck.
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He was clearly not her abusive ex-boyfriend coming back for petty revenge.
He was a ruthless Russian hitman, and he had come to the clinic to violently collect the cartel's dark debt.
