Prologue: 'THE BURNING CAGE.'
Aurora sat alone in her room, dressed in a thin, satin velvet nightgown. She stared into the dark, lush forestry that surrounded her home. From the balcony, it resembled a tall gate, daring trespassers to get lost in its tangle.
It wouldn’t be the first time thieves with nerve were found days later, trapped beneath vines that tightened around their arms and necks, hatchets laid on the grounds, staring into the face of their users as they hung and eventually bled to death from the thorns that ripped their wounds open. If one did not have a stable plan, they’d die there. That’s why her husband kept it around, amused by the idea.
Nobody in, nobody out.
She wondered where he was, annoyed with the possibility of why he was running late. The suggestions were common and filthy. Recently, he’d taken up a drinking habit that would keep him in the bars of Guyana City, miles away from their two-story home in the hills. Normally, it’d be women, voluptuous and dumb; he’d sample them in his clubs and casinos, daring to bring forth STDs back to their residence.
He made her sick.
Not because she loved him or valued their relationship. The idea of that made her smile with distaste. She was annoyed because he’d wrecked her life and had left her to deal with the consequences of his forceful nature.
Aurora looked down at her stomach, still small but round and firm. Every time she glimpses it, a tear threatens to fall. How quickly her life, hopes, and dreams had crumbled. Within the span of two years, she’d been beaten and forced to carry a child she didn’t want at first. She eyed the old, hot whiskey sitting in the glass bottle on her bedside. A sip would calm her, but she turned away, because though it had ruined her life for good... she cared more for her child than she ever thought she would.
Even though this was not her wish.
Even though she’d fought.
Even though she’d lost.
Aurora loved the child growing inside of her and, as such, turned her eyes away from the bottle. Anxiety crept up her spine, and confusion clouded her thoughts. Where was the man who did this to her? It was twelve at night. Despite his mediocre ways, he’d be strolling in here by now. The silence was loud in her ear as she thought about the possibilities of what to do with this time. She could leave this place, pack a bag, and steal some cash; somehow sneak past the guards he’d left to watch her. Escape this country, take on a new name... live a life that she truly desired.
The idea was ludicrous, and it would never work, but it put a genuine smile on her face, unlike the ones she’d forced herself to fake. If her husband came home and didn’t see her, he’d scan the earth to find her. His power and money would allow him that freedom, and if he found her... he would rain everything but mercy onto her. He was a cruel man that way... especially since he didn’t love her either.
‘Andre Gonzalez, a thirty-eight-year-old mobster and one of the cruelest, yet foolish leaders of the Gonzalez family, and my name is Aurora Serrano-Gonzalez... his twenty-one-year-old wife, who was forced to marry him two years ago.’
To betray him was to be killed by him, and though the risk would have been worth it on her own, she simply couldn’t put her unborn child in that same danger. So, she lowered her head and descended to the darkness of the bedroom she shared with him, pulling the covers over herself and dreaming of hopeless salvation... A life where she and her child could live in peace, free of danger and overfilled with happiness.
But like most things that brought her such joy, her dream was cut short by the frightening sound of heavy gunfire. Her heart rate accelerated as the sound got louder and over twenty vehicles stormed their way into their driveway. Aurora ran to her balcony and went to her knees as the intruders began to shoot their way through the security. Fear crept up her spine, but it didn’t have a chance to settle as the opportunity presented itself.
She reached for the closet and pulled out an empty suitcase, quick to grab the essentials for a dangerous escape. Her passport, documents, and over five stacks of European cash her husband kept in their safe. She zipped up the bag and grabbed two guns from the closet. Wasting no time, she ran out of her room as fast as her legs could carry her. The maids were frantic and too busy fearing for their lives as the crew shot through the crowd. Her eyes widened, realizing that they had no intention of leaving survivors. Fear gripped her as she hurried to the kitchen and pushed past the glass doors.
She didn’t care that the glass pierced her bare feet because she was heard and she could hear someone running after her. They were quick, but she would be quicker. Aurora ran to the woods, knowing that it was her only chance of survival. Freedom was so close; she could almost taste it. However, that feeling was short-lived when the thundering sound of footsteps got closer. She dared to look back and let out a heartwrenching scream at what she saw. A tall man, no doubt over six feet, was chasing her down with a rifle in his hand. Dressed in all black and as quick as lightning—Aurora swore that it was the devil chasing her. But that willed her to go faster, even as the thorns and sticks from the forest ripped cuts into her ankles.
Her heart was pounding and her eyes were fuzzy, but she kept pushing, unable to stop. Even as the man grabbed her by the neck and spun her around. The swiftness of it shot pain into her left ankle, causing her to shriek. The man was unapologetic. He gripped her tightly by the throat and willed her to look into his eyes.
‘Dark grey and cold as ice...’
He said nothing, and neither did she. He simply watched her as she slammed her pitifully small fist into his chest to break free, unwilling to allow the fight to leave her. For a minute, he stared into her face, meeting her fighting gaze. He gave nothing away, just held her until the adrenaline left her body and she collapsed from exhaustion.
Now that she was still, he lifted her and her bag in his arms and carried her back to the estate, now bloody and truly silent as bodies lay broken and lifeless around the area. He snapped his fingers, and the henchman got to work, wetting the floors and furniture with gasoline. They’d captured who they were ordered to, and now it was time to leave their mark so the family would know who had done it.
That night, Aurora was carried away from the estate as it burned to the ground. If she were awake, no doubt she’d have loved to see it burn. It was more of a cage to her than a home.
