Chapter 3 - Awakening in the Gilded Cage
Clara woke up to the sound of ocean waves and the heavy scent of fresh white lilies.
Her body burned with a dull, aching fire. Every breath felt like dragging glass across her lungs. She blinked against the bright morning light, expecting the cracked plaster ceiling of her Queens apartment or the fluorescent bulbs of a hospital ward.
Instead, she was in an enormous, vaulted bedroom wrapped in silk sheets, surrounded by polished mahogany furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a stormy coastline.
"Don't try to sit up."
Clara flinched, her eyes darting toward the armchair near the window.
Dominic sat there, dressed in a sharp charcoal suit, a steaming cup of espresso in his hand. He looked impeccably composed, but the dark shadows under his eyes betrayed days of restlessness.
"Where... where am I?" Clara’s voice was a dry, raspy scrape. "My mother... Ellen..."
"Your mother is fine," Dominic said smoothly, setting his cup down. "I had her transferred to the Cleveland Clinic’s private wing two days ago. The best cardiologists in the country are overseeing her care. All her medical debts have been paid in full."
Clara stared at him, overwhelmed by relief and confusion. "Why? Who are you? The man from the ballroom..."
"I am Dominic Rossi." He stood up and walked to the side of her bed. His presence was towering, almost suffocating. "And you are in my estate in Long Island. You've been in a medically induced coma for two weeks."
Clara looked down at her hands. Her left ring finger felt heavy. She lifted her hand and caught the glint of thick, carved gold.
"What is this?" she asked, a surge of panic tightening her chest.
"A ring."
"I can see that! Why am I wearing it?"
Dominic looked down at her with cold, unblinking eyes. "The man who tried to kill my mother that night belonged to the Costa family. When you saved my mother, you became a target. The only way to guarantee your safety in the hospital—and to keep you alive—was to place you under the protection of the Rossi family."
"By... by giving me a ring?"
"By marrying you," Dominic corrected quietly. "Legally, socially, and officially. You are Clara Rossi now."
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Clara’s heart hammered against her bandaged ribs. "Are you insane?! I don't know you! You can't just buy a doctor and marry a dying woman!"
"I didn't buy a doctor; I saved your life," Dominic said, leaning over the bed, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "You took seven bullets for my mother, Clara. In my world, that makes you royalty. And in my world, royalty gets protected, whether they like it or not."
