Chapter 2 - Bound by Silver and SteelThe guest suite Jared assigned to me was larger than my entire apartment in Greenpoint.
It was located on the eastern wing of the penthouse, featuring dark walnut paneling, a king-sized bed wrapped in Egyptian cotton, and a private balcony overlooking the shimmering lights of the East River. But despite the breathtaking luxury, all I could see were the subtle, impenetrable locks on the floor-to-ceiling glass doors and the two silent guards standing outside in the corridor.
It was a cage. A velvet, gold-rimmed cage.
I didn't sleep that first night. I spent hours pacing the plush rug, my mind racing back to Brendan—to the months I had spent locked in his apartment, gaslit into believing that every door he locked was for "my own protection."
When dawn broke, casting a pale pink glare across Manhattan, I pushed open my bedroom door.
The guard—a wide-shouldered man with a tactical holster beneath his jacket—stepped into my path. "Miss Thornton. Mr. Kensington requested that you rest."
"Out of my way," I said, my voice cold and sharp as glass. "I'm checking on the dog."
The guard hesitated, but before he could answer, Miles appeared from the end of the hall carrying a silver tray with fresh espresso and warm pastries.
"It's fine, Marcus," Miles told the guard. He looked at me, nodding respectfully. "He's in the primary living area, Miss Thornton. He hasn't slept since you left the room."
I brushed past Marcus and walked down the main corridor.
The grand living room was drenched in morning light. Titan was lying near the fireplace, his massive head resting on his paws. Sitting in an armchair beside him, wearing a dark blue suit with an unbuttoned collar, was Jared. An open tablet rested on his lap, but he wasn't reading it. He was watching Titan.
When my footsteps sounded against the marble, Titan's ears instantly perked up. He let out a low, rumbling huff and slowly pushed himself up onto his front legs. His hind legs trembled violently from weeks of muscle atrophy, but he managed to stand.
"Easy, boy," I called softly, quickening my pace.
I dropped to my knees right in front of him, letting him lean his massive shoulder against my chest. The sheer weight of him nearly knocked me over, but I wrapped my arms around his thick neck, burying my face in his gray fur.
"Good boy," I murmured. "Look at you standing."
Jared watched us from his chair, his expression unreadable. "He hasn't stood on his own since July."
"He needed a reason to try," I replied, looking up at Jared. "Dogs don't understand abstract medical recovery. They understand purpose. Right now, he thinks he has to keep an eye on me."
Jared set his tablet on the side table, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His gaze was terrifyingly perceptive. "You look like you haven't slept a minute."
"I don't sleep well when I'm being held against my will," I said bluntly. "I told you last night, Mr. Kensington—I am not your prisoner. If you want me to help Titan, we do this on my terms, or I walk out that front door and you can try hiring vet number six."
Jared's eyes narrowed slightly. "You think you can walk out of Hudson Yards if I don't want you to?"
"I think a man as powerful as you knows that forced compliance destroys trust," I countered, holding his line of sight without dropping my eyes. "Titan feels what you feel. If you make this place a battleground between us, he will sense the stress, shut down, and die anyway. So decide right now: am I a consultant you respect, or a captive you're keeping in a high-rise?"
A thick, suffocating silence settled over the room.
Miles stood by the entry column, holding his breath. No one spoke to Jared Kensington like that. No one demanded terms from a man who commanded hundreds of soldiers across the eastern seaboard.
Slowly, Jared stood up. He walked over until he was standing right over us, his shadow enveloping both me and Titan.
"You have spirit, Willa," Jared murmured softly. "Dangerous spirit."
"I have survival instincts," I corrected.
"Fair enough," Jared replied. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a sleek black leather folder, and tossed it onto the coffee table. "That is a formal contract drawn up by my legal team three hours ago. You are hired as Titan's primary behavioral specialist. Your salary is fifty thousand dollars a week."
My jaw dropped despite my best efforts to remain stoic. "Fifty thousand... a week?"
"Plus full medical coverage, a private security detail for your safety outside this building, and an open account at any veterinary supply facility in the country," Jared continued, his voice silky and smooth. "You may come and go during daylight hours accompanied by Miles. You will have total authority over Titan's diet, environment, and physical rehabilitation. But..."
He stepped closer, bending down until his face was inches from mine. I could smell his charcoal cologne, taste the heat radiating off his skin.
"You sleep here," Jared added quietly. "Until he can run across this floor without trembling, your home is with me."
I swallowed hard, the sheer force of his presence causing a knot to form in my chest. "Why is this dog so important to you, Jared? I know what a Neapolitan Mastiff costs. You could buy ten more today."
Jared’s gray eyes turned pitch black, cold as a winter morning in the Atlantic.
He looked down at Titan, his fingers gently brushing over the dog's gray snout.
"Six months ago, my younger brother, Julian, was ambushed in an alley off Ninth Avenue," Jared said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, which made the words ten times more terrifying. "Titan was with him. Titan took two bullets shielding Julian's body. He survived the gunshots. Julian didn't."
I felt the air leave my lungs.
"Julian was twenty-two," Jared continued, staring blankly at the floorboards. "When Titan came home from the animal hospital, he sat by Julian's empty bedroom door for three weeks waiting for him to open it. Then he stopped eating. He isn't just my dog, Willa. He's the last piece of my brother left on this earth."
The anger I had been holding toward Jared evaporated, replaced by a heavy, aching understanding.
Jared wasn't just keeping me here out of arrogance. He was a drowning man holding onto the only lifeline left in his storm. He couldn't protect his brother, so he was willing to burn the entire city down to save his brother's dog.
I looked down at Titan, who was resting his chin on my knee, looking up at me with big, soulful brown eyes.
"Alright," I whispered, looking back at Jared. "I'll sign the contract."
Jared nodded once, a faint trace of relief softening the hard line of his mouth. "Thank you."
Before I could say anything else, Miles's phone buzzed sharply in his pocket. He pulled it out, looked at the screen, and his posture instantly stiffened. He walked over to Jared, leaning in to whisper something directly into his ear.
I caught only three words: "...found her ex..."
Jared's eyes snapped up, locking onto me with a terrifyingly sharp focus.
"What is it?" I asked, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Jared didn't answer Miles. He looked directly at me, his voice dropping into a register that sent shivers down my spine.
"Your ex-boyfriend," Jared said softly. "Brendan Miller. He's been looking for you in Brooklyn for the last forty-eight hours. And he just made contact with a man named Lucian Vance."
My blood ran completely cold.
Lucian Vance was the head of the rival syndicate in Queens—Jared's sworn enemy.
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"Brendan..." I choked out, my hands trembling against Titan's fur. "How does Brendan know Lucian Vance?"
"He doesn't," Jared replied, stepping toward me with a dark, lethal grace. "Vance knows you're in my building. And he's using your past to find a way inside."
