Page 1 of Cage the Storm
PROLOGUE
Luna
I wasan eighteen-year-old virgin when I was dropped off at the Caputo mansion like a lamb to slaughter. An arranged marriage to Giovanni, sealed by handshakes between men who valued bloodlines more than consent. They told me I was lucky. Eighteen, married into legacy, protected for life. Protected from what, exactly? From dreaming? From choosing? From beingminebefore I became someone else’s?
Do you want to know what it’s like living in that house? It’s like holding your breath for three years and convincing yourself that breathing would be disrespectful.
My every step felt choreographed—walk here, wait there, speak only when spoken to. You start by wearing the dresses they pick out for you. You sit where they tell you. You memorize which words won’t get you corrected. Then one day, you realize you’re second-guessing every move, like your body isn’t yours anymore. You swallow the things that matter most just to staysafe, until you forget what your own voice sounds like when it isn’t asking permission.
Giovanni didn’t have to scream or make a scene. He had other ways. Quiet ones. Dark ones. The kind that left bruises where no one would look. He used me—physically, emotionally, like I was property wrapped in flesh. And everyone pretended not to see it. That’s the part that messes with you the most. Not the pain itself, but knowing it was sanctioned. Expected. I wasn’t a wife. I was a prisoner.
They thought I’d break. That if they trapped me long enough, I’d forget how to claw my way out. But if you corner any creature long enough, its instincts kick in. They don’t retreat; they fight back. I wasn’t defiant because I wanted drama. I became rebellious because it was the only thing I had left. I’d either vanish completely or make myself heard.
And now that Giovanni’s dead, I’m being passed down to the next in line. His brother, Nicolai. The new boss of the Caputo empire. As if I hadn’t already spent years just trying to survive.
He’s quieter. Smarter. Scarier, maybe, because he’s patient. He doesn’t posture the way Gio did. He waits. And he looks at me like hesees. That’s almost worse.
So tomorrow, I’ll put on that damn wedding dress. Not because I want to. Because I was told to.
But this time, I swear… I won’t go quietly.
CHAPTER ONE
NICOLAI
I’m just steppingout of the shower when I receive a text on my burner that states, “Finito.” Finished. It’s over. This one word should bring me peace, but it has the opposite effect. I know deep down inside it’s far from over. It’s just the beginning.
I add the burner phone to the bloody heap of clothes piled inside the trash bin. Then, using my phone, I text Barrett and hit send. Within minutes, he’s knocking on the door. I grab the brass handle and pull it open. I learned a long time ago not to trust whoever’s on the other side. The person you thought it might be could very well be the one to put a bullet between your eyes. “I need you to take the trash bin to the incinerator and dispose of everything inside. Once it’s destroyed, please report back to me and bring me a bottle ofBlanton’s.”
“Would you like the Original or Gold bottle, sir?”
“Bring me the Blue edition. After all, I am getting married tomorrow, and I feel like celebrating.” With a nod, he grabs the bin and leaves without another word.
While I wait for him to return, I walk over to the window and spot Luna strolling through the gardens. Today she’s dressed in black, out of respect for her deceased husband. Tomorrow, she’ll be adorned in white. Under the circumstances, it won’t be aformal wedding; she already had that with my brother. But it will be legal, binding, and permanent.
Since it was an arranged marriage, I know there was no love lost between her and Giovanni. Although every woman who enters this house knows her place, Luna couldn’t hold her tongue where my brother was concerned. She hated him with a vengeance. She was an eighteen-year-old virgin. The perfect rose to his prickly thorns. I suspect she’ll try to be the same with me, but it won’t take long for her to realize I’m not my brother. I won’t tolerate disobedience. Here, blood is thicker than water, and she is expendable. No one dares disrespect me and my family.
As if she knows I’m thinking about her, she glances up in the window and stares me down. Little does she know that I don’t frighten easily. That she’s the last person who could intimidate me. I hold all the power in and out of our relationship, and the sooner she realizes that, the better off she’ll be.
It was around three years ago when I watched her marry my brother. As they exchanged vows, I knew it was a dreadful mistake. Luna had too much spirit for a man like Gio. She stood there in that white dress, spine straight, eyes forward. She didn’t look at anyone. And I stood at Gio’s side as his best man. The suit, the ring, the empty smile, all of it felt wrong on me.
Everyone called it a union. I called it a life sentence.
She was handed over like an offering. A virgin bride for a man she couldn’t stand, it was just a transaction sealed with a signature and a priest's tired chant.
And I watched. I even applauded. Hell, I also made a toast to the bride and groom. Because that’s what tradition demands, that’s what loyalty costs.
Back then, Luna didn’t know she’d outlive my brother, that she’d outlast the vows. That possession would put her right back at this altar beside me.
And that she was always meant to be mine.
I remembered the study. Smelled the cigars, the expensive bourbon. And heard their voices clear as fuck, thinking they were alone. Uncle Marco’s low growl:
“Luna should be Nico’s girl. He will shape her into the perfect mafia wife. Gio will break her to keep her compliant.” My father’s reply was ice-cold. Dismissive.
“Sentiment, Marco. Gio insists on his bride being a virgin. Being that Giovanni is the eldest, it’s his choice.” Marco was pissed and didn’t back down.
“That’s bullshit. She was meant for Nico, and you know it.” Silence followed. Then my father’s final word.
