The Runaway Wife: Escaping His Gilded Cage

arlisle w

her papery skin stretched thin over fragile bones. Her breathing came in shallow, rattling gasps.

her grandson, Damian Carlisle,

oice a threadbare echo of its form

at Ava,then returned his gaze to

ath's door, closed around the younger woman's fingers like a shackle. "You...

he words out, each one a stone sinking

er eyes growing distant

re her l

er, St. Patric

dded to the weight crushing her chest. The old woman's grip, memorably

ne thick in the air. Her breath caught in her throat. It was a struggle

English that did nothing to calm the frantic beat of her heart. She lif

effigy of grief, his jaw set, his eye

stranger who shared her bed but never his thoughts. The gaping chasm betw

s smile touched Av

nd died, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. As Eleanor's polished mahogany casket was lif

r. Her dut

s elite flowing towards the grand doors. Ava moved to follow th

a rigid wall of black wool, blocking Ava's path. It wasn'

ecame an island in the stream. Glances slid over her, dismissive and curio

The orphan Eleanor

mpanion. "Such a tragedy. But at least Damian has I

le. They've always been the perfect match.

smile, "the old lady is gone now. These th

of them mentioned Mrs. Carlisle. The

shed past her, jostling her shoulder hard. He d

. You're i

Carlisle family'

the edge of a step. A firm hand ste

Carl

professional sympathy. He pressed a folded, crisp white handkerchief i

ngs," she said, her v

. A symbol of power and legacy. It felt like a brand. A consolation prize. She realized wit

the steps and linked her arm through Isabelle's. They shared a

ightened into a sneer, and she rolled her eyes before turning her b

. Isabelle. Victoria. Serena. A perfect, impenetrable fo

she let hers

ding. At that time, she was too naive, thinking it was the beg

ear. And when he did, he went to his own room.

nding just a little too close to Isabelle Sterling. The media called them "Manhat

tears streaming down her face, asking him to keep hi

"Isabel is my assistant. Th

herapist in secret, paying with cash so the family's accountants wouldn't find out. The

place cam

ng wish made while she was still healthy enough to enforce it. Damian had agreed b

orphan with no family, no fortune, no nam

eanor's health had been failing for two years. The doctors said any stress

nor was

laceholder. A doll Eleanor had picked out, and now tha

ep b

It was just... clear. The fog of trying, of

lost and searching,

in place. She deliberately tightened her grip on Damian's arm a

ncern. "You look a little lost. Do you need a ride? I c

ar. Not our car.

belle's triumphant, challeng

it cut through the air with the clean, sharp edge

n Isabelle'

turned his head. His brow furrowed. For the first time th

shrink. She would lower her eyes

, her chin level. She gave him nothin

ed her back o

the waiting line of black cars. She was walking away from the Carlisle

low growl. His jaw tightened, tha

ed instantly, materializing in front o

one polite but unyielding, "Mr. Ca

ked at the vehicles waiting in line. He

ver that car. The hope it had represente

s lips. She reached into her handbag,

nt. They landed at the bodyguard's

definitiv

ow taxi, old and dented, screeched to a halt in front of her. She pulled the door o

merge into the chaotic flow of Manhattan traffic, a flash of yellow swallowed by the city. For a

took out her phone. One by one, she silenced every contact related to

ows. The drops streaked down the glass, washin

ment. She opened it on her lap. It was a detailed career plan, a pathway back to the world of fin

ame. Her r

river asked, his voice

eflection in the rearview mirror

er East Side, far from the gilded cage she had just

fu