Prologue
Nyla
One moment. That’s all it took for the world to shrink to walls and rules and five shadows that followed me everywhere, even in silence. One moment to realize I’d made the worst decision of my life. And there’s no walking it back now.
I stood by the window, forehead resting against the glass, my breath fogging the perfect view of the city I used to belong to. Manhattan gleamed below me, wild and untouchable. Free.
A skyline like a promise. Neon veins pulsing with life. People going places. Living. Wanting.
I used to be part of that. Before the deal. Before the cage. Before them.
Now I live like a well-kept ghost in a penthouse of kings. They gave me a view, but not the city. They gave me clothes, but not freedom. They gave me rules and chains disguised as choices.
They think I owe them, because of what I did. Because I killed a man to protect a girl who was just like I had been. Voiceless, used, scared. Because I bled for justice. Because I didn’t run.
But this? This isn’t justice. It’s punishment.
Ethan calls it protection.
Maddox calls it recovery.
Knox calls it logistics.
Jace doesn’t call it anything at all. He just watches, growls, waits for me to slip.
And Alexander? He smiles sometimes. Like he already knows how this ends. Like he’s just waiting for the cracks to show.
They say I’m here for a year. That it’s the price I pay for the mess I made. But let’s not pretend. This isn’t about the law. This isn’t about penance. This is about control. This is about power.
The Blackwoods don’t give second chances. They buy them. They bend them. They break them open to see what’s inside. And right now? I’m the one under the scalpel.
The city stares back at me with glittering eyes, but I can’t feel it anymore. I can’t walk its streets, can’t taste its chaos and can’t breathe without knowing someone is watching. There are guards. Invisible ones. Cameras. Retinal locks. Silent hallways with floors that echo when I dare to pace.
I’m not their guest. I’m not their prisoner. I’m something in between.
A woman suspended in amber.
They say it’s safer this way. But I know the truth. They’re not keeping me from the world. They’re keeping the world from me. Because if I get out, if I start, they know I won’t stop.
I hate them. Every. Single. One.
I hate the way Ethan speaks like I’m a failed investment.
I hate the way Alexander touches me too gently, like he’s already carving me into pieces in his mind.
I hate the way Knox knows things he shouldn’t.
I hate how Jace looks at me like I’m a liar.
And I hate, most of all, the way Maddox sees me. Not the version I give them. But me. The girl who ran from her childhood. The girl who stabbed a monster. The girl who still hears screams in her sleep and swears she’ll never be touched again.
And yet, here I am.
Twelve days in and they’ve already made me feel smaller than I did in the brothel. At least there, I chose my lies. Here, they’ve written them for me.
My chest aches. My fists curl. I press my forehead harder against the glass, as if I could shatter it just by wishing hard enough. But this place doesn’t break easily. Not the windows. Not the men. Not the rules.
I sold my soul in exchange for survival.
And now I’m living with five devils dressed like saviors.
They think I’m a pawn. But I remember who I am.
I remember what I’m here to do.
And if they think this cage will make me forget it—
They’ve underestimated me.
