Georgia’s smile vanished when she saw Lillian’s reaction was less than enthusiastic. “You don’t like it, dear?”
“Ms. Liu, why don’t you have Ms. Blackwell try on the gown? It’s not wise to keep Mr. Blackwell waiting,” Mrs. Mitsusaki interjected.
This time, Georgia Liu took the hint. She ordered her assistant to help Lillian with the gown. They also arranged her hair and fitted her with a wispy, long veil. When Lillian looked at her reflection in the mirror, she had to admit she looked good in the dress. But when she thought of the reason she had to wear it in the first place, she had a hard time struggling to contain her tears. After Liu had her slip into her white shoes, she marched Lillian back into the drawing room where her father was waiting.
Her breath stalled in her throat when she noticed Brandon Shea in the room. He looked stunned when he saw her, then she saw guilt in his eyes. Lillian averted her gaze, staring at the floor. She stood in the middle of the room, waiting for her father’s instruction.
“What do you think, Mr. Blackwell?” Georgia Liu asked her father. The designer had dropped her geniality.
Her father rose from his chair and paced around Lillian, studying her with intensity. Lillian kept her face blank even though anxiety started creeping in. Please, let him be pleased. I can’t take another punishment. I’m so hungry, I could eat a whole cow…
Her hopes shattered to pieces when her father sneered in disgust. “The dress is fine, Ms. Liu. But I guess no amount of money could ever make my daughter look presentable.” He cut his gaze to Mrs. Mitsusaki, who stood nearby. “Lillian is still too fat. She should skip her dinner tonight.”
Lillian wanted to cry.
Mrs. Mitsusaki bowed with her usual stoic face. “Yes, sir.”
Without a word, her father strode out, followed by his bodyguards.
Georgia Liu seemed to know to keep her silence. She regarded her with pity. Everybody in the room did. Except Brandon Shea. His face flushed with silent anger, looking as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed. Lillian tore her eyes from him and went back into the guest room to remove the dress. She felt weak from lack of food. She was afraid if she stood for too long, she would faint and make a fool of herself. Mrs. Mitsusaki had been feeding her exclusively on salad ever since she’d become engaged to Maxwell Stanford two months ago. She’d lost a lot of weight. This morning, when she’d examined herself in the bathroom mirror, she saw her ribcage protruding from her skin.
Lillian is still too fat. She should skip her dinner tonight.
She bit her lower lip. She couldn’t continue living like this anymore. There’d be no wedding at all. She had to end this long overdue nightmare or die trying.
Later that night, when she was about to fall asleep, she heard someone tapping on the door to her room. Lillian jumped from her bed, listening. The noise was coming from the secret tokonoma wall. She rushed to it, pushed her dresser over, and slid open the partition. She saw Brandon Shea crouched at the other side.
“Ms. Blackwell?” he whispered. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. What do you want?”
He shoved something into her hands. The package was wrapped in aluminium foil and felt warm. A delicious aroma of grilled meat and freshly baked bread wafted from it.
“Eat up. I know you’re hungry.”
Her heart swelled and all of a sudden tears threatened to spill over. Brandon Shea actually cared about her. None of the staff had ever treated her with such kindness. They were all too scared of her father.
“T-thank you.” She opened the package and the sight of real food made her salivate. Her stomach made embarrassing rumbles, but she was beyond caring. Lillian took a bite of the grilled chicken and chewed it ravenously. Oh God. So delicious. She couldn’t remember the last time food tasted this good.
Brandon watched her eat with a grim expression. “When you’ve finished, give the wrapper to me so no one will notice.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re too damn skinny.”
Her gut was right. Brandon Shea was different. She wondered if he’d be brave enough to break her bondage and set her free.
Chapter Two
Wedding day.
Lillian sat like a statue as Georgia Liu’s makeup artist applied the last touch on her eye shadow. Her long hair had been artfully arranged on top of her head, leaving a single braid down her back. Her veil was in place, secured with a brilliant diamond tiara tucked in her hair. The veil would be draped down her face once the makeup was finished, and it would only be removed when Maxwell Stanford officially married her and was ready to give her a kiss.
The time when that bastard would die.
She’d hidden a five-inch shaving blade in her garter belt, pilfered from the guest bathroom months ago for her personal protection. Maxwell Stanford was the sole reason she’d stolen it. Lillian couldn’t take his harassment anymore. Still, even though she’d armed herself with a weapon, she hadn’t had the courage to use it so far. But today would be different. The moment he opened her veil, she’d slash the blade across his throat. In front of the world. The worst thing they could do was lock her in jail. It couldn’t be as bad as what she’d had to endure all these years. At least, in jail, she’d get three square meals.
Georgia Liu inspected her makeup and her whole ensemble. The designer nodded with satisfaction. “You’re perfect, Lillian. Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Lillian was surprised that her voice came out cool and smooth, full of confidence. Yes. She was ready to kill Stanford, the man she loathed deeply. If he thought he could continue the abuse she’d endured all these years, he was so damn wrong.
Maxwell Stanford had been one of her father’s cronies for as long as she could remember. She’d called him Mr. Ugly Man when she was little. Stanford had only chuckled and patted her head. But when she’d reached puberty, Stanford started showing his interest in her. He’d touched her inappropriately and had burned her with cigarettes. Lillian swore today would be the day his abuse ended.
Spectacularly.
“Do you want something to drink, Lillian? Tea or maybe warm milk?”
“Am I allowed to have a drink?”
Georgia Liu’s face coloured. “Of course, m’dear. It’s your wedding day.”
“Then I’ll have tea.”
“Certainly.”
Liu’s assistant fetched a cup of green tea. Lillian sipped it with relish. The warm liquid soothed her fraying nerves. She looked around, silently saying goodbye to her surroundings. This would be the last day she’d ever be cradled in ultimate luxury. Soon, her future home would be a cold cell and metal bars. But she wouldn’t regret it. She’d chosen this path.
At ten o’clock sharp, Brandon Shea entered her room and told her it was time to go. Lillian put her cup down gently to follow the bodyguard.
“Wait…” Georgia Liu snatched a wedding bouquet. “Don’t forget this.”
Oh, how she longed to shove the bouquet down Stanford’s throat. Lillian schooled a smile as Georgia Liu draped the veil to shield her face. Brandon and two other security execs escorted her to the elevator and to the limo. The wedding would be held in the Marubi Plaza. She’d heard that Mr. Gray had arranged a tight motorcade to deliver her into Stanford’s arms.
Brandon Shea touched her elbow and steered her to limo number two. There were four identical black limos parked in the private parking lot, with no markings whatsoever. She knew why Mr. Gray had arranged such deception. He wanted to confuse the paparazzi and whoever might want to harm her. She rarely went outside the Blackwell Tower, and when she did, Mr. Gray always made a fuss with an unnecessary motorcade. Another reason her father liked to keep her home.
She climbed into the limo and sat quietly. Kei Yamazaki, Mr. Gray’s second-in-command, also climbed in. Brandon Shea, too. He was about to close the door when he tapped his earpiece.
He turned to Yamazaki. “Sir, I think Mr. Gray wants to talk to you in person. He’s in the first car.”
Yamazaki gr
umbled as he climbed out of the limo. Brandon slammed the door and put up the privacy screen. “Ms. Blackwell.”
Lillian startled.
“You have exactly forty-five minutes between here and the chapel to decide if you want me to get you out of this wedding. I need your answer as soon as we enter the Marubi elevator. Hold my hand if you want out. Ignore me if you change your mind.”
“I…”
“Sssh.” Brandon held up his hand. “Don’t talk. It’s not safe.”
The limo’s door opened and Yamazaki’s irritated face poked in. “Gray doesn’t need me. You got it wrong.”
“I did?” Brandon inclined his head. “I apologise, sir. Terribly sorry.”
Yamazaki climbed back in, grumbling. He settled next to Lillian and fished out a handkerchief to mop his sweat. Lillian knew the pudgy man loathed any manual labour.
Lillian clutched the wedding bouquet tightly. She might have broken a couple of flower stems. Her heart drummed wild. Brandon Shea was willing to help her. Him. Her knight in shining armour. All of a sudden, the future wasn’t so bleak, and as much as she wanted to, she didn’t need to kill Stanford. Brandon had given her a second chance.
She tried to catch her bodyguard’s eyes, but Brandon seemed occupied with his own thoughts. What had made him change his mind? He’d rarely spoken to her after he’d smuggled her food that first night. And he’d kept smuggling her food whenever Mrs. Mitsusaki deprived her of her meals on her father’s order. He’d even sneaked her candy bars and other sweets she’d never tried in her life. Last night, she’d found a small pink box under her pillow. When she’d opened it, she found a beautifully decorated cupcake inside. It was the most delicious cake she’d ever tasted. Lillian thought it was his way of saying sorry. Brandon had never hinted, or discussed anything about her proposition. That was why she was surprised with his sudden offer of help. She hadn’t expected that he would be willing to risk his life to help her.
As the motorcade entered the Marubi Plaza garage, her heart pounded even harder. Lillian didn’t see how Brandon could smuggle her out from the clockwork-tight security measures. She studied Brandon’s face in secret. He looked calm but guarded. She put her trust in him. This had to work.
This had to…
The limo stopped near a private elevator. Half a dozen men in dark suits were standing by. Dark sunglasses. Earpieces. Heavily armed. Their faces looked unfamiliar. Lillian guessed they must be Stanford’s men. Brandon opened up the limo door and talked to one of them. They traded fast words before Brandon craned his neck to the limo and called, “We’re clear.”
Yamazaki went out first then he helped Lillian climb down from limo. She felt shaky. Nervous. This was it. She had to let Brandon know her decision. As soon as the elevator doors closed, she pretended to lose her footing and grabbed something to prevent herself from falling. That something was Brandon’s hand. She didn’t just grab his hand, she squeezed him hard as if she wanted to break his bones.
“Are you all right, Ms. Blackwell?” Yamazaki asked.
“Gomen. Sorry. My heels are too high. Never got used to them.”
“Ah.” Yamazaki nodded thoughtfully. “My wife adores them. I’ll never understand about woman and high heels.” He laughed at his own joke.
Brandon Shea’s face remained blank, betraying nothing. He eyed the numbers above the elevator’s door. The Marubi’s chapel was located on the top level, one hundred and seventy floors above where they were now. Terrorists had destroyed the original Marubi about five years ago. Maxwell Stanford had bought the landmark and built a new skyscraper as the hallmark of his empire. The new Marubi Plaza was a city within a city, housing businesses, shopping, restaurants, boutique hotel, and Stanford’s residence on the top floor. Lillian could understand why Stanford wanted to have his wedding on his own turf. She just didn’t expect that Stanford would build his own chapel, considering what kind of man he was.
When they hit the eighteenth floor, Brandon hit the emergency button and simultaneously whipped out something from his pocket and aimed it at Yamazaki. It happened so fast, the next thing she saw, the pudgy man slammed against the elevator’s wall then twitched on the floor.
“What—”
“Taser,” Brandon cut her off. “If we do this right, we’ll keep the casualties to a minimum.”
“Oh.”
He pocketed the taser and reached for his gun. Brandon fired once towards one corner of the elevator’s ceiling. His gun was equipped with a silencer. The only noise it made was the sound of the bullet hitting the glass. Lillian turned away as a shower of glass debris splattered around them.
“Camera down.” Brandon slipped his gun into his holster. He snatched her veil and flipped it open.
She could see him without any obstruction of the veil. Her handsome hero. Her heart swelled. Giddy.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I need you to lose your dress and this veil. I assume you’re wearing something underneath, right?”
“Y-yes.”
“Do it.”
Lillian dropped the bouquet and yanked the veil from her head. As she was working on the zipper, she saw Brandon, with the grace of a cat, climb up the railing and pop open the elevator’s ceiling. She’d barely shrugged down her dress when Brandon disappeared into the opening. The man was a ghost.
“Take off your shoes, too.” His voice loomed from the ceiling.
Lillian kicked off her five-inch platform pumps.
A rope dangled from the ceiling. It had a loop on the end.
“Put it around your waist and I’ll pull you up.”
She did what Brandon asked her to do. A heartbeat later, her body was airborne, going up to the ceiling. Brandon helped her climb onto the roof of the elevator. The claustrophobic space was filled with cables and soot-covered hydraulics tangled together like a gnarly ancient tree trunk.
“You see it there?” Brandon pointed to a narrow ledge between the building’s wall and the elevator’s shaft. “We must walk there until we reach that opening. Can you do it?”
“Yes.”
She threaded her way along the narrow ledge, one step at the time, slowly but surely, until she finally reached the landing that Brandon had pointed to. Lillian tried not thinking about the consequences if she slipped and fell. There was a one-foot gap between the ledge and the elevator’s train. If she fell, she’d be crushed at the bottom of the building. Lillian drew a relieved breath when she reached the landing. She snatched an exposed pipe and hauled herself to safety.
Brandon followed her with ease. He glided across the narrow ledge as if he was sauntering on the sidewalk on a Sunday afternoon. “You okay?” His eyes raked over the undergarment ensemble she wore but he remained indifferent.
“Yes.”
“Let’s get moving. Follow this passage.”
“Where’re we going?”
“Do you trust me?”
“I do. I just—”
“Then trust me. There’s no time for an explanation. Time is of the essence.”
Lillian nodded and scurried along the narrow, dark passage. Another landing swam into her view. Brandon glanced at his wristwatch and yanked open the double doors. The cool breeze from the air conditioning system and a plush carpeted corridor greeted them. From the look of it, it seemed they’d arrived in the residential part of the building. Maybe it was one of Marubi’s boutique hotels.
Brandon snatched her hand and led her through a maze of hallways. Lillian was convinced this floor was a hotel judging from the doors with “Do Not Disturb” signs hanging on them. Brandon abruptly stopped at one door. He fished a plastic card from his pocket and slid it through the key reader. The LCD light blinked green and the door whispered open. Brandon rushed her in.
“Go to the bed.”
Lillian did what he asked without a question. She saw a bundle of towels at the foot of the bed.
“I have to do something to you, and it’s going to be painful.”
“Like
what?”
“Did you know they’ve planted a tracking chip in your body? To be precise, it’s in the nape of your neck. I have to remove it if we want to escape from this place. I should use anaesthesia, but I need you to stay alert. Think you can handle the pain?”
Lillian nodded. A tracking device. She remembered a doctor had performed a minor surgery on her neck when she was little. Her father had said the surgery was to remove an ugly mole he couldn’t stand looking at. She didn’t remember having a mole, but she’d consented anyway. Lillian never expected that he’d plant a tracking device on her. She now began to understand why Brandon was reluctant about her proposal in the first place. Spiriting her away from her father and Stanford wasn’t as easy as it sounded.
“Good.” Brandon unrolled the towels, spreading some scalpels, sanitiser and bandages. He snatched a pillow and dragged it in front of her. “Put your head here. Face down.”
She kneeled by the side of the bed and put her face on the pillow. The smell of clean linen filled her nostrils. Anxiety crept over her like an unwanted guest. Fear, too. She pushed everything to the back of her mind. Brandon knew what he was doing. She trusted him. They would get out of this place alive.
Brandon sanitised his hands and tore open a package containing sterile gloves. He donned them and pushed her braid aside. He prodded a few places on the back of neck until he found what he was looking for. Cold liquid kissed her skin, followed by the smell of alcohol. Lillian closed her eyes, halting her breath when she heard the sound of metal clinking.
“I’m going to make an incision.”
Lillian clawed the bed sheet. A sharp pain pricked her neck, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. She felt Brandon poke her with a metal instrument, a little wriggle then he withdrew it. He tore another package wrapper open and applied something sticky onto her wound. Bandage? He smoothened it out with the tip of his fingers. That was it? That was easy…
Brandon slipped into the bathroom and flushed something down the toilet. He watched her with concern when he returned. “How do you feel? Can you stand up?”
Gilded Cage Page 2
