Chapter 3 - The Cage of Silk and Steel
The penthouse atop the Volkov Tower was a fortress suspended in the sky. Glass, polished marble, and dark teak wood spanned three whole floors overlooking central Manhattan. It was a place designed for a king who trusted no one.
When the private elevator doors opened, a team of three private medical personnel was already waiting in the grand living room, having set up a mobile emergency unit in less than fifteen minutes.
"Over here, Mr. Volkov," Dr. Ellison, a gray-haired specialist, said urgently.
Damon placed Luz gently onto the pristine white examination bed that had been wheeled into the guest suite. The medical team moved with military precision, attaching an oxygen mask, inserting an IV line into her tiny arm, and placing thermal blankets over her shivering form.
Camila refused to leave the bedside. She stood over her daughter, holding her pale little hand, ignoring her own trembling body. Mateo stood beside his mother, clutching her coat, his eyes darting frantically between the doctors and the massive man standing in the doorway.
Damon stood motionless, his heavy coat discarded, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He watched his daughter receive emergency fluids, his chest rising and falling in deep, ragged breaths.
"Double pneumonia," Dr. Ellison announced forty minutes later, stepping back from the bed and pulling off his gloves. He looked at Damon, then at Camila. "Her temperature was 104.2 when you brought her in. Another hour on that street, and her lungs would have failed completely. We've administered high-dose antibiotics and antipyretics. She’s stabilized, but she needs rest and continuous monitoring for the next forty-eight hours."
Camila let out a long, shuddering sob and collapsed into the armchair beside the bed, burying her face in her hands.
"Thank you, Doctor," Damon said softly. He gestured to Lev. "Ensure the medical team has everything they need. They stay in the penthouse guest quarters until I say otherwise."
"Yes, Boss."
The room quieted down to the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and the soft hum of the climate control. Mateo, completely exhausted by the terror of the night, finally let his eyelids droop. His small head dropped onto Camila’s lap, his grip on his one-eyed rabbit loosening at last.
Damon walked slowly into the room. His heavy footsteps made no sound on the thick silk rug. He stopped two feet behind Camila’s chair.
"There are hot showers, clean clothes, and food waiting in the master suite," Damon said quietly. "Go wash up. I'll watch her."
Camila didn't move. She didn't look at him. "I'm not leaving my children alone with you."
Damon leaned down, his shadow enveloping her. His breath brushed the back of her neck, hot and dangerous. "Camila, look at yourself. You are shivering, your hands are bleeding, and you are exhausted. I am not going to hurt our children. I have never—never—wanted to hurt you or them."
Camila turned her head sharply, her dark eyes blazing with five years of buried rage. "Lie to someone who doesn't know you, Damon. I heard you. That night, five years ago, in your study. I heard what you said to Nikolai!"
Damon’s brows pulled together in genuine confusion. "Nikolai? What are you talking about?"
"You told him they were leverage!" she hissed, keeping her voice low so as not to wake Mateo. "You said, 'If the Reyes family doesn't fall in line, the children she’s carrying will be the ultimate bargaining chip. Assets of leverage.' You treated my pregnancy like a business transaction! You were going to use my babies to destroy my father’s empire!"
Damon went entirely still. The blood drained from his face, leaving his harsh features looking as if they had been sculpted from ice.
"Is that why you ran?" Damon asked, his voice dropping to a whisper that sounded like ground glass. "Because of a conversation you overheard between me and my former underboss?"
"Isn't that enough?!" Camila demanded, tears threatening again. "I realized I was married to a monster who saw his unborn children as bargaining chips! So I packed one bag, took my mother’s ring, and ran. And I would do it again a thousand times over to keep them safe from you!"
Damon stared at her for five long, agonized seconds. Then, a dark, terrifying laugh escaped his lips—a sound completely devoid of humor.
"Nikolai," Damon murmured, rubbing a hand over his face. "Of all the snake tongues in this city... you listened to Nikolai."
He took a step closer, towering over her. "Camila, Nikolai was a traitor who was feeding information to the Russian syndicate. That night in my study, I knew my office was bugged by his men. I was feeding him false intel to lure his hit squad into a trap!"
May you like
Camila froze. The breath caught in her throat. "What?"
"I said those words because I needed Nikolai to believe I viewed the unborn babies as cold strategy, so he wouldn't target them directly!" Damon’s voice trembled with a rage so deep it shook the room. "Two days later, I wiped out Nikolai’s entire crew. But when I came back home to tell you the danger was gone... you were gone. Your rings were on the counter. And my entire world ended."
