Caged (How Not To Be Seduced by Billionaires: Book 3) Read online

  But it wasn’t that bad, not really. It could have been a lot worse. We could have been, like, arrested by sexual maniacs with a badge. Or we could have been thrown into a cell occupied by, like, convicted lesbian rapists.

  Compared to all the horrifying thoughts that had crowded my mind during the ride, reality was a lot more pleasant. In fact, the police station appeared to be one of the newest in the city – a fairly small one, with the other two cells still empty. The lady officer even offered us coffee as we waited for someone to bail us out and have the paperwork done on who was going to sue whom for God knew what.

  All in all, I counted myself lucky. If there had been a real-life hardcore criminal standing even ten feet away from me in this prison, I would have freaked out.

  Like what Brittany was doing – or had been doing since we were taken here. Ten minutes ago.

  “Oh my God.” That was, like, the five hundredth time she had said that. Five minutes ago.

  Seriously, I wanted to freak out, too, and I was sort of doing it, but, like, silently. Besides, the only thing her screams and tantrums did now was to give me a headache.

  "This is all your fault!" Brittany spat when she caught me looking at her.

  If I didn’t feel so tired, I would have laughed. The shiner I gave Brittany was complemented by her white eyeliner, giving her a Glittery Panda Goddess look. Seeing it made me touch the slash she left on the edge of my face, near my left ear, and I winced in pain because the wound was still fresh.

  “Let me out of this fucking hellhole!”

  God! Did she, like, have to cuss all the time? Why couldn’t everyone just turn into a ditz like I did when I was stressed out? It was, like, so much calmer – and easier on the ears.

  “Oh my God.” That made, what, 501 times for Brittany?

  “Yan-na.”

  “Oh my God.” That was me, though.

  What was Alyx doing here?

  “Hello, my beautiful peace-loving friend.” Laughter tinged Alyx's voice.

  I covered my face with my hands. “Shut up.” I suddenly felt sick and miserable, absolutely shamed at how I had gone literally crazy earlier. With my eyes squeezed shut, all I could see was how security had to drag the three of us out – me and the blond bimbos – and straight into the backseat of a police car that was conveniently waiting outside on standby, in case shit like what had happened would happen.

  Marge had started to argue with the security, but I pleaded her not to – or at least I hazily recalled somewhat doing so. I hadn't wanted her to get involved and increase the chances that the stuff the B-squares - that was, like, totally what I was going to call them from now on – said about her would leak to the press.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” Alyx told me even though I still wasn’t looking at her.

  She wasn’t the only one. I just wasn’t raised that way. I had never gotten into a fight in my entire life. And before this humiliating fiasco, the closest I got to it was the subtle exchange of digs I’d have with Arian at work, which was totally lame since the best ‘dig’ I could do was make faces behind her back.

  “What are you going to say to your Mom when she hears about this?”

  My head jerked up at that. “Don’t tell her.” My life would be over if Carole knew I had been behind bars. Since I was their only child – and my mom only had me when she was almost forty – my parents were nearly fanatical about my safety.

  “Visitors for Yanna Everleigh,” the policeman stationed by the main door boomed.

  Alyx raised an eyebrow at me, saying musingly as she turned around, “This is interesting. As far as I know, you can’t have more than one visitor at a time.”

  “Yanna?”

  “Mr. Fix-It,” Alyx gasped.

  Gasping as well, I caught a glimpse of Drake’s tall form walking swiftly towards me. He was still dressed in his tux, and against the sterile background of the prison cells, he looked like an angel flying in to rescue me. I quickly looked down before his eyes could meet mine. What was he doing here?

  “Yanna?”

  My head jerked up, and my neck started to ache with all the sudden up-down movements I was doing with my head. “Mrs. Kastein?” What was she doing here, too?

  The main doors burst open. “Where is she?”

  I bent my head back down again.

  What took him so long?

  Seated on the opposite bench, Brittany’s mother – Beatrice – shrieked, “Where are my visitors, asshole?” She sounded drunk even though her test results were negative. Apparently, decades-old envy could have that effect on some people.

  “Constantijin, oh, thank God, you’re here, darling!” Brittany flew to my side of the bars, pushing me out of her way as she did. “It’s all this bitch’s fault! She attacked my mother---”

  “I will give you three fucking seconds to get out of my face---”

  "Y-you don't mean that!"

  "---before I have my lawyers take you to court and sentence you and your mother for life imprisonment." There was a moment of silence.

  "Aaaaawkward,” Alyx said gleefully.

  Brittany burst out, “Are you insane? She was the one who attacked my mother first!”

  “One.”

  “Is this fucking for real? You’re going to choose this lowlife nobody---”

  Constantijin’s voice became colder. “Two.”

  “Fuck you!” But she was already stalking away even as she spat the words out.

  “Yanna?” His voice was very gentle.

  I shook my head.

  “Please look at me, sweetheart. My lawyers already have everything under control. You’ll be out in minutes.” When I still didn’t move or say a word, he said even more softly, “Please, Yanna, for me?”

  God! He already knew how to manipulate me so well. It was scary to think how he could be even more manipulative once he found out I was in love with him, too. I looked up.

  Constantijin stood before me, minus his blazer, and a half of his long-sleeved white polo tucked in his jeans while the other half was left hanging. His beautiful hair was roughed up, not at all sleekly arranged like I had glimpsed it earlier tonight.

  Tension was sketched on his face, but his silver eyes were brighter than I had ever seen them, with just too many emotions swirling in his gaze that I couldn’t make sense of them.

  I bit my lip hard to stop it from trembling. All I could think was I should have handled it better. Constantijin had wanted me to make a good first impression as his girlfriend but thanks to my outburst, everyone would think he was dating a gangster.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I waited for him to say something but he didn’t. Instead, he reached out to me, slipping his hand between the bars.

  Slowly, I placed my hand in his and he pulled me carefully towards him. His other hand slipped between the bars as I came close, and I could see it trembling when he touched my face.

  I couldn’t stop myself from wincing when his fingers came in contact with the wound on my face. When Constantijin abruptly drew his hand back, I said quickly, “It doesn’t hurt.”

  “Don’t lie,” he bit out.

  We stared at each other, everything and everyone around us fading. I found myself unable to breathe when I realized how much he was holding back. Then he said with heartbreaking simplicity that had me sobbing the next moment, “Thank you for defending my mother and me.”

  As I cried, I heard footsteps, followed by the clanging sound of keys. The metal bars rattled as the doors to our cell were finally unlocked. Constantijin swept me in his arms, literally, forcing me to hold on to him, with my legs dangling in the air.

  I tried to struggle then, my face burning in embarrassment because I was acutely aware of the fact that we still had Alyx, Drake, and his mom with us. “Let me down!” I said hoarsely, throat still scratchy with tears.

  His arms only tightened. “No.”

  Marge smiled, and her voice was even gentler as her son’s when she spoke. “Thank yo
u, too, darling.” She kissed my cheek. “We’ll talk soon. I’ll go now that I know you’re in safe arms---”

  I blushed even as Constantijin laughed.

  “I mean, hands,” Marge corrected herself innocently.

  When she turned away, Constantijin said coolly, “Morrison.”

  “Sir,” Drake said in a polite, bland voice before smiling at me.

  I smiled back hesitantly even as I did my best not to blush even more. This was seriously getting more awkward.

  “I’ll see you at work, Yanna. Take care.”

  Constantijin answered before I could. “I always take care of what’s mine.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it---sir.”

  Constantijin stiffened. “If you are saying that I cannot fucking take care---”

  Drake was already walking away, but he said over his shoulder, “That’s not what I’m doubting.”

  I choked, a second too late in realizing what that meant. Alyx was even worse, laughing outright as Constantijin cursed in fluid Dutch.

  Alyx’s eyes suddenly narrowed. “You will take care of her, won’t you?”

  “With everything I have,” Constantijin answered, his words strongly accented. It made me blink back tears.

  An impish grin appeared on her face.

  Uh-oh.

  “Alyx, don’t---”

  “And you will take care of her that way, too, right?”

  “ALYX!”

  Constantijin lifted a brow at me before glancing back at my friend, his tone curious as he asked, “In what way?”

  Alyx slowly started backing away, which was smart of her because if she had been close enough for me to reach, she’d be, like, totally under six thousand feet by now.

  She said airily, “Oh, you know, like sex?”

  Constantijin coughed.

  “She’s still a V, but I’m sure you know that and I’m equally sure you know what to do with it.”

  Lesson #4

  Your billionaire knows a billion ways to please your body,

  but he will not want to know that he has also pleased your heart.

  Over my admittedly weak protests, Constantijin had booked us into the penthouse suite of the nearest five-star hotel to the station, which was literally a block away. The limousine dropped us at the basement parking level, where the manager – his name tag said so – waited for us, next to the hotel’s private lift.

  “Mr. Kastein, everything has been arranged according to your specifications.” He bowed, his eyes never straying towards me even though I was pretty sure he was dying of curiosity why a billionaire had a female inmate in his arms.

  Constantijin had still insisted on carrying me in his arms, like he wanted to atone for being late by treating me like a spoiled princess. It was embarrassing, of course, but it was also poignantly sweet.

  “Thank you. Make sure we are not disturbed.”

  “Yes, Mr. Kastein.” The manager bowed then swiped his card on the elevator.

  The doors slid closed.

  Feeling his heated gaze on me, which made me feel jittery, I said hurriedly, “Is this a new hotel?” I had lived all my life in Florida, but I hadn’t even known this one existed until now.

  “No.”

  “What’s its name?”

  “It doesn’t have one.”

  This time, I frowned in exasperation. “I’m serious.”

  “And I’m not either, schat.”

  Oh, God. The way he said that word – which I still hadn’t managed to look up – made my whole body shiver. And the damn man knew it!

  “But---”

  “You need to have at least one billion dollars in your account before you are sent an invitation by its management. It is how it keeps its clientele exclusive. Even if you were a client before but your bank account now is a dollar shy from a billion, then you would not be admitted here.”

  My jaw dropped – well actually it had done so the moment he said you had to be a billionaire just to be a hotel guest.

  “This building has ten floors – and there is only one suite in each floor, except for the penthouse suite, which has the top two floors.”

  “You’re totally pulling my leg.”

  “You may explore the entire hotel---” He paused.

  I tried not to squirm since that pause seemed the type you should be waiting for.

  “After I finally take what’s mine.”

  I’m not going to ask him what that is. I’m so not going to---

  It was hopeless.

  Glancing away, I asked breathlessly, “And that’s?”

  His lips touched my ear, and his whisper set my body on fire. “Your virginity.”

  Constantijin only let me down when we entered the suite and I immediately held on to the first solid thing that could support me, which was a pole.

  A pole?

  My head jerked up, and I gasped when I realized that I was holding on to one of the steel bars of an unlocked human-sized cage. It was large enough to incarcerate a team, but its vast size probably had more to do with the actual dancing pole it had at the center.

  I heard Constantijin shut the double doors closed behind me, and then the lights went out, making me gasp as the entire room was plunged into darkness. A second later, and another set of lights came back. The pole dancing cage glittered like a neon rainbow, while at the center of the suite a crystal heart-shaped chandelier showered golden light all over the place.

  “What the heck is this place?” I whispered. I could only blink at our surroundings, just plain overwhelmed at how stunningly beautiful it was in an outrageously hedonistic fashion.

  Lush tapestries covered every inch of the walls and ceiling, an exquisite but horribly expensive way to turn the suite into a soundproofed haven. Each panel of tapestry depicted a different sexual encounter, albeit tastefully rendered, like a vividly colored and lushly illustrated Kama Sutra with needle and thread.

  There was no living room – or at least in the traditional sense. At one end of the room, under billowing curtains of gossamer, silk, and velvet, an expansive throne sparkled in black and gold. Pillows encased in shimmery fabrics of every color surrounded it, a harem that patiently waited for one to rule and another to submit.

  At its side was a balcony, the biggest one I had ever seen in my life, a paradise of palm trees and flowers, swings and gazebos, and manmade waterfalls and ponds that looked deep enough for people to swim in.

  My dad was by no means poor. He earned his first million the moment he graduated from college, and his wealth had only grown by leaps and bounds after that. But he clearly wasn’t in Constantijin’s league. Right now I sort of understood why even someone as obviously wealthy as Brittany could be fascinated with the wealth that this man represented.

  Constantijin took my hand again. “You like it?”

  “Yes.” I said it even though I felt like by doing so I was admitting to liking something else – something similar to what the walls and ceilings were silently singing.

  He smiled. “There’s more.”

  Past the throne room – or at least that was what I thought it was called – was a hallway of doors, opposite a magnificent glass wall that boasted the best skyline views. Each door held a magical surprise – a library with twenty-foot-tall shelves, a glow-in-the-dark bowling room, a private theater with its own stage, and it even had its own bar and restaurant with a waiting barista, chef, and a pair of servers. The list went on and on, but there wasn’t much time to really take it all in, not when we reached the end of the hallway.

  Constantijin opened the last door, and the first thing I saw was a sweeping staircase. A little further in and I gasped, realizing that the staircase led to the suite’s bedroom – which encompassed an entire floor.

  My gaze fell to the bed – circular in shape, as enormous as a children’s carousel, its headboard an intricate work of gold-plated steel. The covers and pillows were in red velvet while the sheets were in gold.

  I didn’t see the r
est of the room. I couldn’t. The bed had me gulping, and in an instant I was vacillating between breathing heavily in excitement and breathing not at all because I was too nervous.

  “Constantijin---”