Not Another Cage

Maelin Elora didn’t cry in couture.

That was rule number one—and the silk Valentino gown hugging her figure deserved respect. So even as her world tilted off its manicured axis, even as her father dropped the word “marriage” like a bomb over breakfast, she dabbed her lipstick, smoothed her caramel waves, and sipped her espresso with calm disdain.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, voice smooth as satin. “You want me to marry a man who doesn’t even speak?”

Her father, Regan Elora, didn’t blink. “You’ll find that silence can be more loyal than words. Elric Thorne is powerful, strategic—and unlike most men, he doesn’t underestimate you.”

“Probably because he’s never met me.”

“He’s agreed. That’s all that matters.”

Maelin stood, her heels clicking like gunshots on marble. “You don’t get to auction me off like one of your crumbling buildings, Father. This isn’t a deal—it’s a cage.”

He smiled. “No, darling. It’s protection. The government’s been sniffing through your finances. You need a shield. He needs a wife. It’s clean. Efficient.”

Maelin looked away, toward the full-length mirror near the balcony. Her reflection stared back—flawless, fierce, afraid. Her world was built in color palettes and company shares. Fashion Week runways and international boardrooms. She knew how to style armor out of chiffon and lipstick, how to turn vulnerability into elegance.

But this… this was something else.

Elric Thorne—the silent strategist of the Prime Minister’s cabinet. A man with war in his eyes and a mystery in his past.

Maelin swallowed hard.

Then she smiled—cold and stunning.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll marry your ghost. But I swear, the moment he tries to own me, I’ll burn down both your empires.” The heels echoed across the marble floor like a warning.

Maelin Elora walked through the hallway of her penthouse, flawless in a tailored blazer and silk blouse—but the storm inside her couldn’t be styled away. Her father had done it again. This time, he hadn’t threatened her business. He’d threatened her freedom.

Marriage.

To a man she didn’t know. A politician. A stranger who held power over a country—just as her father held power over her.

Jessa followed quietly, holding a tablet in one hand and Maelin’s favorite peach iced tea in the other.

“Are you okay?” Jessa asked gently.

Maelin stopped near the window. The city lights blinked below them like tiny, fake stars. “No,” she said, voice calm but cold. “But I will be.”

Jessa nodded. She didn’t say things like “you don’t have to do this,” because she knew Maelin did. When you grow up in a world full of claws, you learn how to wear armor with rhinestones.

“He’s not like your father,” Jessa said softly. “I checked. Elric Thorne is… different.”

Maelin raised a brow. “Different how?”

“He doesn’t yell. Doesn’t control. Doesn’t chase attention. He paints.”

Maelin blinked. “He what?”

“Paints. In secret. I found a photo of his work. Abstract, lots of dark blues and reds. It’s like… he’s hiding pieces of himself on canvas.”

Maelin looked away, thinking. Her whole life, she’d been someone’s tool. The strong daughter. The public figure. The CEO in heels and diamonds. And now they wanted her to be a wife—again, for someone else’s plan.

But maybe…

“Maybe he’s hiding,” she whispered.

Jessa smiled kindly. “Maybe you both are.”

Maelin picked up the red velvet suit from the rack. “Then let’s stop hiding.”

She turned to Jessa with fire in her eyes.

“If I have to marry him, I’ll make sure the world sees who I am. I won’t be silenced. Not again.”

Jessa grinned. “That's my girl.”

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***