24. Rage
I run my hand down the gilded bars of my new cage, admiring how they shine in the light. It’s a new addition to the club floor—a cage for someone to dance in. Lounge in. Get fucked in. Bolted down right next to the padded throne I use to survey the crowds. There’s a smaller one in the middle of our apartment, taking up what used to be our living room floor. We never used it for much beyond quick meetings before or after jobs, so this is a much better use of the space.
Together, my brothers and I will teach Celia what it means to break promises.
You don’t get a fucking choice but to keep them.
I wrap my fist around one of the bars and tug, satisfied with its sturdiness. All three of us hold matching keys, but we decided that if one of us puts her inside, another one isn’t allowed to take her out. I wanted to commission a smith to create three different locking mechanisms so that if one of us locks her in, the other won’t be able to unlock it, but time was of the essence.
We couldn’t risk Celia actually running away.
To think that she stayed within city limits this entire time…
A hum catches in the back of my throat as I wonder, for the hundredth time, if she was waiting for us— for me —to come after her and bring her home. If she didn’t really want to leave, but she was scared of how angry I’d be with her after our little strangulation incident.
I don’t blame her for it. In fact, I’m proud that she acted out of passion instead of shoving it deep, deep down to bury it. Most men within the bratva are taught that emotions are weaknesses—but my brothers and I believe that they’re weapons.
Hate. Fear. Excitement. Love.
They fuel us to be better versions of ourselves—versions that our enemies can’t use against us. If we harness our emotions, we control our reality.
It’s when we act out recklessly that we lose control.
Which is why the cage is necessary. It will keep me in check as much as it will keep Celia safe. Being around her, knowing that she aborted our baby before it ever had a chance to take root… My fists clench hard enough that my bones scream.
She promised to have my baby, to love and cherish it.
A mother who loves her children doesn’t throw them away. Not ever.
Now that Celia will be under lock and key, she won’t be able to get rid of my gifts so easily. It was an error of judgement to trust her the first time, but it was also an error to tell her anything about the Baranova wedding and my involvement in it. She doesn’t understand the circumstances. I don’t even know if Mikhail—or Valentina—has told Celia the truth about what happened that day.
Guessing from how violently Celia reacted, I’d say, probably not. It’s something I’ll explain to her while she’s behind bars.
But not these bars. First, I’ll need to train her how to behave and be grateful for our generosity— then , we’ll upgrade her to the cage on the club floor.
Until then, she’ll stay where she belongs—under constant watch, all hours of the day, in the heart of our home.
Full of our cum.
Becoming the mother she’s always dreamed of being.
As beautiful as the first time I laid eyes on her.
I leave the club’s main floor and head up the lavish front stairs to our apartment, my body thrumming with anticipation. She’s close. I can feel it. A week apart has felt like an eternity—especially after burying myself inside of her and leaving a piece of me behind. It’s not just about the sex—although fucking amazing—it’s about the promise we made to each other.
I will give Celia everything she needs to be happy.
It’s up to her to decide how she receives it.
With a diamond ring on her finger and a baby in her belly… or locked in a cage, collared in leather, until she learns how good it feels to be ours.
Are you ready to rebel?