Page 70 of Malicious Claim (Dark Inheritance #1)

Caged Bird III

If someone had told her she'd ever willingly stay in a cage for eight hours, Leila would've laughed in their face. If they'd taken it a step further and said she'd actually enjoy it—she would've torn out their tongue and force-fed it to them. Facto.

Yet here she was, awake inside a steel cage with soft velvet padding beneath her and a sense of... peace?

She'd slept. Slept deep.

Not the toss-and-turn, stress-induced micro-naps she'd gotten used to. This was the kind of sleep that came after complete submission. Bone-deep, soul-emptying, post-orgasmic sleep. No nightmares. No wandering thoughts. Just stillness.

The darkly lit room with red lighting made it impossible for her to tell what time it was. She suspected it was morning. Still, with no window, no sound, and no clue if Makros was even in the house, time dragged like a punishment. She sat still in the cage for what felt like hours.

"Ugh," she whispered to herself. "Get it together, Leila."

The room was quiet. Too quiet. She began to wonder how much longer she'd stay in the cage? Abandoned like a used toy in this shrine of lust.

"Does anyone else even know about this room?" The thought invaded her mind, but it was completely reasonable and fair. The place had felt too sacred, too private.

Her paranoia heightened when the realization of how deeply trapped she was settled deep in her chest. She could be in here and die and not a single soul in the world would know of her whereabouts.

And something told her Sofia, Andreas, Konstantinos, Nicolai or any of the house staff didn't have access here.

Her stomach grumbled but it was more from the paranoia she was feeling than hunger. And just as she debated whether to scream or attempt a desperate escape, the door creaked open.

Like a caged dog, she instantly gripped the bars and leaned forward.

The light silhouetted a tall figure, unseeable at first through the haze of red, but her body knew before her eyes did.

"Morning, pet," Makros sang.

Pet, Redhead.

Yep, that one was going to stick.

"Morning," she responded, her tone sounding casually dry. Oddly, it was the first actual proper greeting they'd exchanged. And somehow, it felt oddly intimate.

Makros stepped further into the room, his movements measured. "How did you enjoy sleeping in your cage?"

"I slept, that's all that mattered," she answered. "Now let me out."

Who did she think she was talking to? There was no way it could've been him, Makros thought.

He didn't reach for the lock right away. Instead, he cocked his head, studying her, deciding whether he should release her or give her more time.

"Getting too eager?" he asked, tersely. "You know, the average dog can survive four days in a cage without food or water."

That made her throat tighten. Was that a threat? A joke? Or what?

"I'm not a dog, Makros," she replied, narrowing her eyes.

"Then you better be on your best behavior—especially at work."

"Work?" she echoed, blinking. "Is that... a thing now?"

He crouched slightly, unlocked the cage, and swung the door open. "Who did you think was going to replace Caterina?"

"I—I don't want to work in your shoe factory," she stammered, stepping out, stretching her limbs like a prisoner who'd forgotten what standing upright felt like. "You didn't even consult me."

Makros scratched his temple, completely unbothered. "Consult who? You? I've told you before—what you want is irrelevant."

"Yeah, except when it comes to your dick and sexual gratification," she shot back.

He gulped but didn't back down. "Can't blame those for having loopholes."

"You're painstakingly annoying."

"Bear it," he said, already turning toward the other room. "Hurry up. We're going to be late."

"Late?" She blinked. "Makros, you own the fucking company."

"And I'm telling you we're going to be late."

"How? Who's going to write you up? God?"

"No," he replied smoothly. "But I lead by example. That's why they respect me."

"Respect?" She scoffed, trailing him now as they moved through the other room. "I thought it was fear."

"I wield both," he said simply. "They respect me because of my consistency. They fear me because of my actions."

When they arrived at the factory, it didn't take long before Kim descended on them like a hawk with her tablet in hand and heels stabbing the tiles.

"Good morning, Signor. Signora," she greeted quickly, then turned to Makros, voice lowered. "I have regrettable news, sir."

"Let me guess," he said without missing a step. "Caterina pulled back her investment along with the Gallanis partnership."

Kim faltered mid-step. "You... already knew?"

Makros gave a lazy nod. "Yeah. I kicked her out myself."

Leila tried not to roll her eyes but failed. That wasn't how it happened. She'd been there. But she understood the performance. This version made him look like the man who held every string. Made him look infallible like the indefatigable rock of Gibraltar.

"But Signor," Kim protested, catching up again. "The Gallanis are our biggest suppliers of leather, the active material we use to produce nearly eighty percent of our shoes."

Makros didn't flinch. "Kim, my beautiful wife Leila has taken Caterina's position. That name, Gallanis, will not be mentioned again in this factory. Got it?"

Kim turned to Leila with raised brows. "You don't own a leather-making company... Do you?"

"No," Leila said simply, alighting from her train of thoughts. "But it's high time we started producing our own leather."

Makros pushed open his office door and turned around. "You see, Kim? Problem solved. Work with my wife. Find out what it'll take for us to start producing our own leather from scratch."

"Yes, sir," Kim nodded, pulling a folder from her crossed bag. "Also, the rebranding is ready. The new logo and name suggestions."

Makros and Leila settled in their seats as Kim placed the folder on the desk. He opened it, flipped through the samples, then slid it across the desk to Leila without hesitation.

"Which one do you prefer?"

She blinked in surprise.

The last time he handed her paperwork, it had been more like a setup. But this... this felt different. He was genuinely asking for her opinion. There would be no consequences because she wasn't trumping over his choices.

She took her time, flipping through the seventeen suggestions carefully. Some were too plain. Some were too flashy. And then she worked backwards looking at them again.

"This one," she said, pointing to sample number twelve.

Makros didn't hesitate.

"Kim, get a team to update the name and logo out front. Apply for a change of business name."

"Yes, sir."

Kim felt a pang of jealousy because of how far Makros went for Leila. She silently wished he was her man, if only she knew what that entailed.

Makros turned to Leila, all business.

"Kim will now take you to your office. Don't come looking for me until close of work. And if I'm not around when the day ends, go straight home."

He didn't kiss her or hug her. He didn't send her off with affectionate words.

Just a plain command. Treated like a regular staff.

Leila stared after him as he pulled out his phone and spun in his chair, already shifting into CEO mode.

for some twisted reason, her heart skipped. It should've broken, but it didn't. She liked being sent off like that.