The Princess Golden Cage

The rain poured heavily, transforming the streets of New York into a wild chaos of flickering lights and blaring horns. Elena Carter sprinted through the downpour, her breath coming in quick, frantic gulps. Her thin jacket provided little protection against the frigid rain that drenched her clothes, yet she couldn't afford to worry about that; she was in a hurry.

Her phone, clutched tightly in her shaking hands, displayed multiple missed calls from her stepmother. The last message sent a cold shiver through her more chilling than the rain hitting her skin.

"Come home at once. Your father's hospital bills are past due. The collectors will seize everything."

Elena's heart sank. She knew they were facing overwhelming debt, but she had hoped for a miracle. Instead, she was heading toward what felt like a waking nightmare.

When she finally reached the small two-bedroom apartment they had been desperately trying to keep, her fingers were numb, and her shoes squished with water. She opened the door and was immediately met by her stepmother's frosty, unreadable gaze.

Margaret Carter lounged on the couch, poised like royalty in her pristine designer dress, her hair perfectly styled despite the storm outside. Unlike Elena, she didn't appear to be someone who had spent sleepless nights anxious about finances.

"You're late," Margaret remarked, sipping her wine.

Elena barely suppressed a scoff. "I rushed here. What do you mean the debt collectors"

"They're taking the apartment, Elena," Margaret interrupted, her tone sharp. "Your father's medical expenses are mounting. We have nothing left."

Elena's stomach twisted in fear. "There must be another option," she stammered, her voice quavering. "We can ask for an extension"

"There isn't time," Margaret snapped, her eyes narrowing. "But... there is a solution."

Elena froze, recognizing the predatory glint in Margaret's expression from years of living under her watch an unsettling sharpness.

Margaret placed her glass down delicately and clasped her hands. "You're going to marry Alexander Blackwood."

Silence engulfed the room.

The atmosphere became oppressive.

Elena blinked, thinking she must have misheard. "What?"

Margaret sighed, displaying an air of exasperation. "You heard me. Alexander Blackwood has agreed to marry you in exchange for clearing our debts. Your father's hospital bills, our apartment everything. He wants a wife; you need a savior. It's a fair trade."

Elena's blood ran ice cold.

Alexander Blackwood.

Billionaire. CEO of Blackwood Enterprises. A figure spoken of with reverence in corporate circles and feared by competitors. Ruthless. Unfeeling. Dangerous.

And he wanted to marry her?

Her stomach twisted. "You're bartering me to a stranger?"

Margaret's expression darkened. "Mind your tone, girl. You should be thankful. Do you think anyone else would consider marrying a broke, desperate girl like you? You're weak, Elena. Helpless. This is the sole way to save your father."

Weak.

That word stung. Yet it was the truth that hurt more.

Her father meant everything to her-the only person who had ever truly cared for and protected her. Now, he lay in a hospital bed, struggling for his life. She had already lost so much her mother, their former home, her independence.

Could she truly sacrifice her dignity, too?

Margaret smirked, as if she could already see Elena's defeat. "I've already told Mr. Blackwood your answer. You have a meeting with him in an hour. Dress accordingly."

Elena gasped. "You had no right"

"I had every right," Margaret interjected smoothly, standing up. "Your father is my husband. His debts are my burden. Now, they are yours to resolve."

Elena wanted to yell, to argue, but what good would it do? Margaret had already chosen her path.

And in an hour, so would Alexander Blackwood.

BLACKWOOD ENTERPRISES

The building loomed like a impenetrable fortress of glass and steel, reflecting the gloomy sky. As Elena entered, her damp clothes clinging to her skin, she felt like an unwelcome intruder in a realm unattainable for someone like her.

The lobby was immaculate gleaming marble floors, towering ceilings, and men and women dressed in suits that signified success, moving with the confidence of people who knew they belonged.