Gilded Cage

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Gilded Cage Page 7

by Lizzie Lynn Lee


  Oh yes. She knew the bastard very well. Stanford had deep ties with the Yakuza. He was the façade for the Japanese underworld mafia. The actual boss of the biggest Yakuza family in Japan was very secretive about his identity, and rumour said he’d “adopted” a gaijin, a foreigner, to be his go-to man and carry his mission in the international world. Stanford fronted legitimate businesses while laundering Yakuza money.

  And as for Stanford’s ties with her father, Lillian didn’t think her father was afraid of Stanford or was intimidated by him. As long as she could remember, her father and Stanford had been friends. She heard there used to be three of them—her father, Maxwell Stanford, and Keith Thurman—‘the three musketeers’ people had called them. But Keith Thurman had died in a boating accident shortly after the three reaped big bucks in the stock market during the economic recovery boom. Her father and Maxwell Stanford had built their empire since.

  Lillian furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t think so. If my father is afraid of him, he could move somewhere away from Stanford. My father just doesn’t care about me. He never did. And you know Stanford is a creep.”

  Brandon’s face darkened. “I heard rumours about Stanford. Many unpleasant things.”

  Unpleasant things? She’d sampled some of Stanford’s perverseness firsthand over the years. The day they’d gotten engaged, Stanford had pulled her out from the party in his penthouse and had showed her what awaited her when she officially became his. She remembered how numbed she was when Stanford nonchalantly took her in his secret room, the dungeon he called it, and flaunted dozens of sick things he would do to her. One thing that scared the bejesus out of her was when Stanford grabbed a hot poker from the fireplace and branded the leather couch with it. The smell of sizzling burning leather had made her want to throw up.

  “See this?” Stanford had said. “Once you become my wife, you will carry my mark on your body. But don’t worry. I won’t do anything to your face. It’s a shame to spoil such a pretty face, isn’t?”

  She couldn’t sleep that night. The image of Stanford’s hot poker branding her skin had given her nightmares. The burning, cooked flesh that would mark her with Stanford’s MS initial as if she was a mere chattel on a ranch. One of his properties. To be used and abused any way he pleased. She knew she had to get out of this marriage arrangement. Even though she was surrounded by many bodyguards, servants and staff, she hadn’t seen one who would be willing to help her. Her father’s money had bought their loyalty. But then Brandon came. He was truly a Godsend.

  Lillian sought refuge on Brandon’s chest, burying her face on the curve of his throat. His warmth soothed her.

  “Thank you for saving me. And also for giving me the unforgettable wedding night I wanted.”

  He chuckled. “You mean taking advantage of a young, vulnerable woman who never saw the outside world before?”

  Ah, again, what was up with him and his code of honour syndrome? “Have you ever thought that I’m the one who’s taking advantage from you? I mean, I cost you your job and I tricked you out of your pants, too.”

  His laugh turned louder. “Babe.” Brandon found her face and kissed her. “But you’re totally worth it.”

  The next morning…

  The cool breeze blowing from the air conditioning vents welcomed him as soon as Brandon entered a small coffee shop in the Roppongi area. After breakfast, he’d left Lillian in their hotel room to meet Donahue. He saw his friend sitting at one of the tables near the window. His friend nodded at him and brusquely rose from his seat, stalking over to the restroom area. Brandon followed him in silence. Donahue stopped to reach his key and unlocked a storage room. He motioned for Brandon to enter. Brandon stepped in. Donahue turned on the light and locked the door.

  “How’s Lillian?” Donahue asked.

  “She’s fine. And in good spirits.” Brandon scanned the room. He saw a sophisticated communication console nested between a giant drum of coffee beans and neatly stacked Styrofoam cups. “What is this, your bat cave?”

  Donahue laughed. “My secret lair, you’re damn right. I need a place where I can hide my porn from Keiko.”

  Brandon snorted. Donahue and his porn addiction were a legend. Brandon remembered one time when they were deep in the mountains of Afghanistan and Donahue had needed to patch up one of their battle buddy’s injuries from an IED explosion. Donahue ran out of anaesthesia so he made the poor soldier watch his porn collection while he stitched him up. Funny thing, the man didn’t complain.

  Donahue pulled up a chair for Brandon then he flopped in one recliner in front of the communication console. “How’s her stitches? Are they okay?”

  “The last time I checked, they were holding up. No bleeding whatsoever.” Though the thought he had made Lillian bled in another part of her body made him feel guilty. Lillian hadn’t complained about losing her virginity. In fact, she was ravenous. He’d lost count how many times they had made love last night.

  “Good. Once she’s out of this country, I’ll arrange for someone to take out her stitches.” Donahue turned on the console. The monitor flickered alive. “Okay, I have a confession to make.”

  Brandon narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me you work for Blackwell or Stanford.”

  Donahue cursed. “What do you take me for? I’d gladly take a bullet for you rather than sell you off to those asstards.”

  “Damn, for a moment you had me worried there.” He relaxed. “So, what is it? Your dick finally fall off from your incessant jacking habit?”

  Donahue ignored his digs. “Couple weeks ago, MacCunnen contacted me out of the blue. He ordered me to give you assistance if you ever needed it. I didn’t know you’d be here at the time, but I was expecting you. I wasn’t really surprised when you came for help.”

  MacCunnen? General MacCunnen was his former commanding officer who’d gotten him the job as Lillian’s bodyguard in the first place. Why would MacCunnen contact Donahue? As a matter of fact, how could MacCunnen predict that he would go to Donahue anyway? “What did MacCunnen want with me?”

  “I think it’s better if MacCunnen explains that to you. He’s waiting for you on a secure line.” Donahue’s fingers danced on the keyboard, typing furiously. He opened a video conference call.

  Brandon felt curious. “I know you’re retired, but any chance you’re still on the Army’s payroll, Sal?”

  “Nope. CIA’s.”

  Brandon whistled. “Graduated to a spook job, huh?”

  “Actually, my job is strictly watching what the Yak is up to these days. Nothing political. And since Stanford is a poster boy for the Nomezuka family, anything related to him falls in my field of interest.”

  “No shit.”

  “Yes shit.”

  “Is that why you were able to give me the blueprint of Marubi Tower?”

  Donahue beamed, looking proud. “The escape plan was brilliant, wasn’t it?” He hit enter and a video-conference-call window opened. “It took me two months to hatch that plan, even before I knew you’d need it. I took it as my personal challenge to devise a plan if Central Command ever needed to send someone to sneak into Stanford’s fortress.”

  A soft whirring sound seeped from the speaker. Two seconds later, Brandon saw his former commanding officer on the other end.

  “Sir.” Donahue nodded to the screen. “I have Shea with me.”

  Brandon and Donahue traded seats.

  General MacCunnen looked as fierce as ever. “I take it you have Miss Blackwell with you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ve been instructed to facilitate getting you out of Japan.”

  “May I ask—”

  General MacCunnen held up a hand. “I know you have a lot of questions, Shea. Our priority is to get you out of that country as soon as possible. I’d be glad to answer your questions once you and Miss Blackwell are safe.”

  “Understood, sir. But since I’m no longer on active duty, I feel I’m entitled to a few questions. My best interest is to pro
tect Miss Blackwell at all cost. I need to know you’re not affiliated in any way with William Blackwell or Maxwell Stanford.”

  General MacCunnen twitched a smile. “Fair enough, Shea. I understand your concerns. I’m acting on behalf of the United States government.”

  “Why would the US be interested in Lillian Blackwell?”

  “We have our reasons.”

  Brandon narrowed his eyes.

  “Trust me, Shea. We only are interested in her wellbeing. We have no interest in reuniting her with her father or her fiancé. That—I can vouch for you.”

  “Understood.”

  “We would like to avoid an international scandal since Miss Blackwell is a high profile person of interest. We are prepared to grant her asylum once she reaches US soil.”

  Brandon weighed all the options. The offer sounded fishy, but it was his best shot of getting out of Japan in one piece. Stanford with his Yakuza connection practically controlled all ports in this country. Yakuza influences ran deep in the Japanese government. Smuggling her out would be a difficult task.

  Besides, MacCunnen was trustworthy. Brandon had served under him for a long time and he knew what kind of man General MacCunnen was. He wouldn’t betray him. Brandon made his decision. He nodded. “I’ll take up on your offer, sir. What should we do?”

  “We have authorised a transport to take you home from the USS Kitty Hawk III. Your job is to escort Ms. Blackwell to our naval base in Yokosuka. Considering how sensitive this matter is, we regret we cannot send you any reinforcements. We would like…to keep our hands clean in case something goes wrong.”

  Like most of his assignments. “Understood, sir.”

  “How soon can you get Miss Blackwell to Yokosuka?”

  Brandon turned to Donahue.

  “Normally, travel by train is the best way to go, but I’m not recommending out of town public transportations. The Yakuza have flagged all exits from Tokyo. They believe you’re still in the city and they want to round you up by any means necessary. Car would be the best option. I need several hours to get you one. Five p.m. is the soonest.” Donahue paused. “Perhaps sooner.”

  Brandon turned back to MacCunnen. “Tonight, sir?”

  MacCunnen frowned for a moment. “Godspeed, Shea. I’ll have my men waiting for you at Kitty Hawk.” He closed the connection.

  Brandon remained in Donahue’s recliner, his mind racing, trying to figure everything out. So many questions still unanswered. “What the hell have I gotten myself into this time?”

  “Relax, pal.” Donahue slapped his meaty hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “When you kidnap someone like Lillian, you should expect a bunch of big shots demanding your ass on a platter.”

  Chapter Six

  Brandon came back a little after twelve.

  Lillian climbed off the bed when she saw him open the door. She padded across the room and jumped into his arms, giving him a big, wet kiss. “I missed you.”

  “Already? I’ve only been gone for a couple of hours.”

  “Yes.” Her gaze slid to the package he’d brought. “What have you got in there?”

  “Guess.”

  Lillian grabbed the brown bag and opened it. It was their lunch. A delicious aroma wafted from it. Something meaty and mouth watering. Lillian opened it and squealed. “Burgers? You’ve got me burgers?”

  “Babe, it’s only burgers.”

  “I’ve never tasted one. Oh my God, I’ve got to eat a burger.”

  “You’re so easy to please.” Brandon took a seat on the sofa and helped her with the bag. He had bought a couple of burgers and fries, with ketchup and mustards in tiny packages. “Go ahead. Dig in.”

  Lillian snatched one and unwrapped the foil. The burger was from an American fast food chain. It looked just like the ones on the commercials. She took a bite. Oh God. So delicious. Lillian savoured each morsel of delight—the salty, tangy, char-grilled meat with onions and ketchup—the scrumptious orgy of flavours exploded in her mouth.

  Brandon didn’t eat. He only watched her eat, looking concerned. “I’m not hungry. You can have mine.”

  Normally, Lillian would have refused because it was impolite. But having indulged in the sweet taste of her freedom for the last twenty-four hours, where she had gotten to taste her first kiss, her first fuck, and her first fast-food craving, she gladly jumped on his offer. “You sure? Have you eaten?”

  “I had coffee with Donahue. Besides, I’m not in the mood for lunch.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ve no appetite when I have so much going on in my mind.”

  “Your loss.” Lillian devoured bite every bite of her meal. “You met with Mr. Donahue? What’s our next plan?”

  Brandon told her about the meeting with his former boss, a two-star general in the Army who would help them get out of Japan through the American military naval base. He also told her about the asylum offer from the US government and that he’d agreed to take it. They’d drive taking a scenic route later this evening to Yokosuka.

  “Why would your country want to give asylum to me? Is that a common thing?”

  “To be honest, I have no clue. I have some theories, though.”

  “Do you trust them?”

  “I trust MacCunnen with my life.”

  “And I trust you with mine.” Lillian unwrapped the second burger, Brandon’s burger, and took a big bite. It was very unladylike, but she didn’t care. The burger was too damn good. “America sounds fantastic. I want to see Tennessee.”

  Last night, Brandon had told her about his past. He didn’t have a big family, only a brother and his mom, who he swore made the best mac and cheese in the world. She learned about Charlene and his plight, too. The more Lillian discovered about Brandon, the more she admired him. Not all men would take his cheating, estranged ex-wife back and stay with her throughout her illness and difficult times. Then face the hardship when he lost everything he had because of his ex’s medical bills. And not all men would help somebody like her, a mere stranger, risking his life without expecting anything in return.

  “Why Tennessee?”

  “There’s where your mom lives, right?”

  “She’ll adore you. Wait a minute, you want to meet my mom because of her cooking.”

  Lillian grinned. “I’ve never had mac and cheese before.”

  Brandon grinned. “Don’t encourage her. My mom loves to cook for an entire neighbourhood. You’d never leave her kitchen.”

  “I’m up for the challenge.” Lillian shovelled the last chunk of the burger into her mouth and chewed it with relish. She washed it down with a big gulp of soda. “When do we leave?”

  “We should head to Roppongi at about four o’clock.”

  Lillian looked at the digital clock on the wall. “It’s only twelve thirty now. We have plenty of time.”

  “You can take a nap. You barely slept last night. You look pale, you need to rest.”

  “Take a nap? I was thinking of something fun for us to do.”

  His dark brows arched. “You don’t say.”

  “Are you tired?” she ventured.

  “What are you getting at?”

  “Wait here. I need to take a shower first.”

  “Why would you need to take a shower?”

  “Sssh. It’s a surprise.”

  Lillian dashed to the bathroom and slammed the door closed. She brushed her teeth, ditched her clothes and hit the shower. When Brandon went out to meet Donahue earlier, she got bored staying in the room and decided to explore the hotel’s lobby. Lillian wanted to buy some candy bars, but ended up studying the sex toys vending machines. She was curious and decided to buy some for fun.

  Brandon rapped on the door when she got out of the shower.

  “Lillian,” he called, “what are you up to?”

  She donned her bathrobe and opened the door.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “Look what I’ve got.” Lillian showed him the toys she had bought—a tongue tickler, cock
ring and a pair of Ben Wa balls, all wrapped in bright and garishly offensive-looking packaging. “What do you think?”

  “Where did you get these?”

  “In the lobby. The vending machines.”

  “You shouldn’t leave this room without me.”

  “Oops. You didn’t tell me that. I was hungry and I wanted some candy bars. But then I saw these. They look interesting. Can we try them?”

  Brandon looked speechless for a moment. “How did you get the cash to buy them from the vending machines?”

  “The hotel’s key card. The vending machines take them. I suppose it will be charged to our room’s account?”

  Brandon ran his hands through his hair. Apparently, that was his habit when he was at a loss for something to say. “You know how silly this is? We have Stanford and his merry shit-kickers looking for us all over town and you want to have a nooner?”

  “What’s wrong with that? I want to savour our every moment together. Just in case we don’t make it.”

  “Lillian, we will make it. Trust me.”

  “Okay, that was only an excuse. I’m curious about these toys. And horny.”

  Brandon’s laugh exploded in the small bathroom. He shook his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Are you interested or not?” Lillian flashed a grin and groped his crotch.

  His cock stirred at her very touch.

  “I think Mr. Shea junior likes my idea.”

  Brandon wrapped her within his arms. “You shouldn’t tempt me. I’m a guy and you’re a very beautiful woman.”

  “Does that mean yes?”

  “Jesus. How could I say no to you?”

  She kissed him. “Which one do you want to try—the tongue tickler, cock ring or the Ben Wa balls?”

  He looked uncomfortable with her mentioning them so casually. Lillian wondered if there were etiquettes for asking a man about his preference in sex toys. She didn’t know much about this man-woman intimacy business. Hell, sex hadn’t interest her until she’d met Brandon. It didn’t mean she was absolutely blind about it. The only thing she was privileged to have at home was unlimited access to the Internet, where she’d spent endless hours surfing, pretending she was anywhere but incarcerated in her golden cage. Risqué sites didn’t appeal since the mention of sex always reminded her of Stanford and his perversity. But Brandon had changed that. Suddenly, she was curious about a lot of things. Naughty, sexy, fun things she could do with Brandon.

 

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