Chapter 2 - My People
He rushed toward the cage, then stopped.
Not because he had found mercy.
Because the elevator chimed again.
Closer.
Sienna took a step back in her gold heels.
“Clayton,” she hissed. “Who is coming?”
Rebecca answered before he could.
“My people.”
Sienna laughed once, sharp and terrified.
“You don’t have people.”
Rebecca’s eyes stayed on Clayton.
“That’s what he told you.”
Clayton’s hand went to his pocket, then stopped when he realized the phone there had already been taken earlier.
By him.
From her.
He had thought removing Rebecca’s phone made her silent.
He had not thought about the pendant.
He had seen the necklace for years and dismissed it as sentimental jewelry.
A diamond locket from her mother.
A pretty thing.
A weak thing.
Men like Clayton always underestimated objects attached to grief.
The pendant had belonged to Rebecca’s mother, Helen Morrison, who built Morrison Capital before Clayton ever married into the name. Helen had worn it during every board fight, every hostile takeover, every divorce negotiation she helped a friend survive.
Before she died, she had placed it around Rebecca’s neck and said, “Never let a powerful man convince you that rescue must come from his permission.”
Rebecca was twenty-four then.
She thought her mother was being dramatic.
Now she was pregnant, locked in a dog cage, wearing a collar her husband allowed his mistress to fasten around her neck.
And the pendant was glowing blue.
Clayton swallowed.
“Rebecca,” he said, lowering his voice. “Listen to me. If people come in and see you like this, it will look bad for everyone.”
Rebecca almost laughed.
“Everyone?”
His eyes flicked to Sienna.
Sienna’s mouth opened.
Then closed.
She finally understood that in Clayton’s mind, she was included only as long as she remained useful.
Rebecca looked at the phone in Sienna’s hand.
“Were you going to post it?”
Sienna’s chin lifted weakly.
“I was going to show what you really are.”
“A pregnant woman locked in a cage?”
“A hysterical wife,” Sienna snapped. “A woman who needed to be restrained because she was threatening herself.”
Rebecca’s voice stayed calm.
“And the collar?”
Sienna looked at Clayton.
Clayton did not look back.
Rebecca saw it then.
Sienna had thought she was the chosen woman.
She was really the witness Clayton planned to blame if the room turned ugly.
The elevator doors opened beyond the penthouse foyer.
Clayton stepped toward the entrance.
“Stay here,” he barked at Sienna.
Rebecca tilted her head.
“You’re still giving orders?”
His eyes snapped back to her.
For a second, the real man appeared fully.
The one beneath the tuxedos, the donations, the press photos, the quiet hand on Rebecca’s back at charity events.
“You should have signed,” he said.
The words were low.
Ugly.
Honest.
The pendant blinked again.
Rebecca looked down at it.
May you like
“Say it louder.”
Clayton’s face went pale.
