His Caged Bird A Vengeance Reborn

After Boyd Delgado's first love came back to the country, I became the most infamous madwoman in Kingsport.

When Boyd went to the airport to pick her up, I smashed every last one of the dozens of luxury sports cars in his garage.

When Boyd started spending nights away from home for her sake, I torpedoed a billion-dollar deal his company had been brokering.

And when that woman showed up at my door, I decided she'd dirtied my house just by standing in it. So I burned the whole thing to the ground.

But no matter how far I went, Boyd would always kneel before me, crouching down to meet my eyes.

"As long as it makes you happy, anything goes."

Three days later, I received a collection of videos too graphic to describe. Every single one featured Boyd.

I dragged the female lead of those videos, Boyd's precious first love, right to his face.

"Kill her."

Boyd crouched in front of me, his voice still impossibly gentle.

"She's carrying my child. Wait until the baby is born."

"Okay?"

I didn't answer him. My gaze drifted past his shoulder to the girl standing behind him.

Gail Walter stood there, timid and trembling, her eyes wide like a startled rabbit.

"Miss Winfield, those videos really weren't sent by me. Please don't misunderstand."

I lowered my gaze, idly toying with the handgun in my grip.

"Boyd. All those promises you made me. Was a single one of them ever true?"

"If you won't pull the trigger, I don't mind doing it myself."

The instant the words left my mouth, I flicked my wrist. The black muzzle swung to point directly at Gail's forehead.

Gail froze. Fat teardrops spilled down her cheeks, and her body began to shake.

Boyd's brow creased. In one swift motion, he closed his hand around my gun.

"Faith Winfield. I said she's pregnant."

"No one will ever replace you. Once she delivers the baby, I'll kill her myself."

His voice softened again.

"Faith, trust me this once. Please?"

That voice, low and coaxing, threaded with something dangerously tender.

Four years together. Boyd knew exactly how to make me cave.

Every time I was upset, all it took was that lilting "please" at the end, and I'd melt into nothing.

I lifted my eyes and glanced at the two of them. Gail stood behind Boyd, her eyes swollen and red.

The way he positioned himself in front of her, shielding her without even realizing it, made my heart sink. And sink again.

I let the tension drain from my wrist and holstered the gun.

"Fine. I won't shoot. But I have one condition."

"Boyd, let me go."

At my first sentence, the relief on his face was visible. His shoulders loosened.

But the moment my second sentence landed, that crease returned between his brows.

"Faith. I've told you before. You belong to me."

"In the past. Now. And whatever comes after."

Gail's pale fingers curled into the hem of Boyd's jacket.

"Miss Winfield, I truly never meant to come between you and Mr. Delgado." Her voice cracked, pitiful and small. "I promise, the moment the baby is born, I'll leave. I won't interfere with what you have."

Boyd let out a quiet sigh.

"Enough, Faith. This one's on me. I wasn't careful. It won't happen again."

"Get some rest. I'm going to take Gail home."

He didn't wait for my answer. Boyd was already walking out with Gail at his side.

The dozen or so men who shadowed him filed out in his wake, and the vast living room fell silent in an instant.

I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders and walked to the bed. I stood there, motionless, watching through the window as the group crossed the courtyard and disappeared through the gate.

Boyd, you should know me by now.

You should know that once I say I'm leaving, there's nothing in this world that can make me stay.

Boyd didn't come home that night.

The day I played the video for him, he ordered every copy on the computer wiped clean. But what he didn't know was that Gail hadn't just sent them to my email. She'd sent a copy to my phone, too.

The innocent little girl he saw when he looked at her was far more cunning than he realized.

For the entire night Boyd was gone, I sat on the couch and watched every second of those videos.

Even at the height of passion, Boyd's eyes were filled with tenderness and aching devotion. He handled her like she might shatter, like he was terrified his own strength would break the girl beneath him.

In four years together, I had never once seen that expression on his face.

With me, Boyd was savage. Unhinged. He wanted to crush my bones to dust. My body always bore the marks to prove it.

But the man in these videos, aside from sharing the same face, was a complete stranger. Every expression, every touch, was something I didn't recognize.

My phone buzzed. A text notification. A photo of a necklace.

The pendant was a bullet.

"I just said it looked cool, and Boyd gave it to me."

"He said it was some worthless little trinket. Told me I could have it if I liked it."

I froze. At that exact moment, the bedroom door swung open, and there he was. Boyd. Gone all night, now strolling in like nothing had happened.

Before he reached me, I locked my phone screen without a flicker of expression.

Boyd walked over and pressed a kiss to my cheek, casual as breathing.

"Still up? Were you waiting for me?"

I looked away from his eyes. My gaze dropped to his neck.

Just as I thought. Bare.

The necklace he never took off, not even in the shower, was gone.

I pulled back from him, putting distance between us as naturally as I could.

"Where's your necklace? Why aren't you wearing it?"

Not a single crack in his composure. He loosened his tie with one hand.

"Chain broke. I sent it out to get fixed."

I said nothing. The silence stretched on and on.

That bullet on the necklace had nearly pierced my heart four years ago.

Back then, Boyd wasn't the untouchable crime lord he was now, the kind of man who could raze empires with a single word. He'd already made a name for himself on the streets, though. Enough of a name that every rival boss wanted him dead.

That time, a rival syndicate sent their best assassin to finish him off for good.

The instant both men raised their guns, my chest seized. I threw myself in front of Boyd on pure instinct and took the bullet meant for him.

Boyd's shot hit the assassin right between the eyes.

The assassin's bullet stopped half an inch from my heart.

When I woke up in the hospital, it was the first time I ever saw Boyd cry.

"Faith, I swear on my life I will never betray you."

"Anyone who wants to touch you will have to step over my dead body first."

He had the bullet pulled from my body made into a pendant and wore it around his neck every single day.

Four years. That necklace never left his skin. Not once. Not even in the shower.

I looked up at him, and a thought crystallized in my mind.

"Boyd, let's get married."

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. In four years together, I had never once brought up marriage.

He recovered quickly, ruffling my hair.

"All right, quit messing around."

"I'm going to take a shower."

He turned and disappeared into the bathroom.

It was only a test. He hadn't refused outright.

But his evasion was answer enough.

Over the next few days, Boyd spent most of his time with me. Neither of us mentioned that name again.

By the fourth day, my fingers were itching for something to do. With Boyd out of the house, I headed to the shooting range.

It had been days since I'd held a gun, and my hands were rusty. I'd barely squeezed off a few rounds when a coy little voice piped up beside me.

"Miss Winfield, what a lovely mood you must be in, finding time to practice your aim."

"I heard you used to be the princess of the Black Tiger Syndicate. So how is it that you're content being someone's caged bird now, clinging to a man who doesn't want you?"

"If your late father could see you, I wonder how disappointed he'd be."

I lowered the gun and turned to face Gail.

Her expression was pure provocation, not a trace of the timid act she'd put on the other day. Her performance skills were impressive, I had to give her that.

I pulled off my safety glasses and studied the woman in front of me through narrowed eyes. After a moment, I let out a dry laugh.

"You were there that day. You heard him. He's the one who won't let me leave."

"So who's really clinging to whom, Miss Walter? Can you truly not tell?"

A flash of humiliation crossed Gail's face, but she clenched her jaw and forced the words out, one by one.

"Once the baby in my belly is born, what will you possibly have left to compete with me?"

"The great princess of the Black Tiger Syndicate, feared across the underworld, reduced to a little caged bird." A vicious smile curled her lips. "Your father is probably rolling in his grave."

What cut her off was my palm cracking across her face.

The slap sent Gail staggering. When she lifted her head again, her eyes were full of venom.

But before she could get a word out, a voice erupted behind us, thick with fury.

"Faith! What the hell are you doing!"

The instant she heard Boyd's voice, Gail's expression transformed into something pitiful and wounded.

"I'm sorry, Miss Winfield. I only came to explain things to you. I didn't want you and Boyd fighting because of me again."

"I grew up without parents. Boyd just feels sorry for me, that's all. There's really nothing between us. It's not what you think."

Boyd's gaze slid to the red, swollen mark on Gail's cheek. His eyes were ice.

"Faith, I told you she's pregnant."

"How could you hit her?"

My answer was the gun rising in my hand.

Bang.

The bullet grazed Gail's arm with surgical precision.

Blood poured instantly.

I lowered my wrist and regarded the two of them with cold eyes.

"That shot I didn't take last time? Consider it returned."

"Boyd, keep your dog on a leash. Next time, the bullet goes between her eyes."

Boyd swept Gail up into his arms. When he looked at me, his eyes were bloodshot, barely containing a rage that seemed ready to detonate.

A long silence passed before he ground the words out through clenched teeth.

"Today was Gail's fault. She shouldn't have come to bother you."

"You're even now."

With that, he didn't spare me another glance. He turned and walked away, carrying Gail.

I don't know if Boyd did it on purpose.

As he passed me, his shoulder slammed into mine.

I wasn't braced for it. The force knocked me off my feet, and the small of my back crashed into the edge of the shooting bench.

Blinding pain exploded through my body, radiating from my lower back in waves so intense I couldn't breathe.

Behind me, my bodyguard's panicked shout cut through the ringing in my ears.

"Miss Winfield! You're bleeding!"

I looked down, numb, and stared at the crimson spreading beneath me. Red, everywhere. The sharp, metallic smell of blood filled my nose.

My legs gave out. My vision went black, and I lost consciousness.

When I woke, I was in a hospital.

The nurse changing my IV bag hurried out and returned with the doctor.

His eyes were full of regret.

"It was already seven weeks along."

"Your body was already fragile, and the impact was too much. The baby didn't make it."

The doctor sighed softly and continued.

"I don't know what's going on today. So many injured pregnant women coming in. They rushed another one into the room next door just now."

"Fortunately, her baby is fine."

"You young women really need to learn to take better care of yourselves."

After the doctor left the room, I pressed a trembling hand to my flat stomach. It felt like a massive fist had closed around my heart and squeezed.

Without my ever knowing, there had been a child here.

I lay on the hospital bed, tears sliding from the corners of my eyes, disappearing into my hair at the temples.

Under the haze of anesthesia, I drifted off again.

I was woken in the dead of night by the chime of a text message.

"Next door. There's a surprise for you."

I pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed.

The room next door was steeped in intimacy. A woman's voice floated out, honeyed and cloying enough to melt bone.

"Oh, careful... I'm still pregnant, you know. What if you hurt the baby?"

"And we're in a hospital. Someone might hear."

The man's voice was raw, thick with desire.

"I'll be gentle. Don't worry, I won't hurt our baby."

"I already shut the door. Relax. No one's going to hear."

At the peak of it all, Gail shifted her gaze from beneath Boyd, and her eyes found mine across the dim space.

What was left for me not to understand?

Boyd said he'd shut the door.

But the door was clearly cracked open.

Gail had done it on purpose.

I lowered my eyes, turned away, and sat down on a chair in the corridor.

The hospital hallway was deserted at this hour.

I sat there, motionless, punishing myself by listening to the sounds of them together.

I didn't know how long I'd been sitting there when a nurse's voice reached me, gentle and close.

"Miss Winfield? Why are you crying so hard?"

"Are you in pain somewhere?"

Only then did I realize I'd been crying the entire time.

My whole body was shaking with sobs, my fingers trembling without my permission.

I swiped roughly at my tears and looked up at the nurse.

"I'm fine. I'll go back to my room now."

After the nurse left, I stood up.

But I didn't go back to my room. I walked straight toward the hospital's front entrance.

Three days passed before Boyd came home.

Seeing how thinly I was dressed, he reached for a blanket nearby and draped it over my shoulders, casual as anything.

"What's the staff been doing? How are you wearing so little?"

I didn't answer. I just looked up at him, eyes level and unblinking.

"How's Gail? Out of the hospital?"

Boyd let out a long sigh. The look he gave me was full of weary patience.

"Faith, she's young. Let it go."

"I've already warned her. She won't come near you again."

"Forgive her this once, okay?"

Okay?

That single word landed somewhere hollow inside me. I felt nothing. If anything, I almost wanted to laugh.

I took a long drag of the slim cigarette between my fingers. When I spoke, smoke curled from my lips.

Through the haze, Boyd's face blurred at the edges.

"Boyd, did you know?"

"We had a child."

A flash of wild joy crossed his eyes.

The next second, I crushed the cigarette into the ashtray, grinding it until there was nothing left.

"But it's dead."

"Three days ago. You killed it when you knocked me down."

Boyd's entire body went rigid. His lips moved, trembling, searching for words.

Nothing came out.

Four years together. He was too sharp a man not to hear what I meant.

After a long silence, Boyd covered his face. When he spoke, his voice was raw.

"It's my fault. All of it."

He pulled me tight against his chest.

"We'll do better from now on."

"I swear, nothing like this will ever happen again."

I pushed him away. The sound of my own voice sent a chill down my spine.

"Don't bother, Boyd."

"Just let me go."

The moment the words left my mouth, the temperature in the living room seemed to drop.

What broke the silence was his phone ringing.

The room was quiet enough that even without speakerphone, I heard every word from the other end.

"Boyd, I know I shouldn't be bothering you right now."

"But my stomach really hurts, and I'm scared. Can you come be with me?"

He didn't even hang up before he was on his feet.

At the door, his steps faltered.

"I told you. You belong to me."

"Before. Now. Always."

Then he walked out without looking back.

For an entire week after that, Boyd didn't come home.

He arranged a housekeeper, a private doctor, and dozens of bodyguards.

He made sure every one of my needs was taken care of.

And at the same time, he stripped away every last shred of my freedom.

I couldn't find a way out.

On an ordinary afternoon, another email arrived, along with a text message.

Check your inbox. There are things you don't know.

Oh, Faith. You really are pitiful.

The sender was Gail.

Five years ago, my father had been assassinated, and the Black Tiger Syndicate vanished from the streets overnight. I was the syndicate boss's daughter, and the rival gang had taken me, sold me to the biggest club in Kingsport: Nightfall Lounge.

Boyd was the one who found me. He brought me home.

Now he was the most feared man in the underworld, ruthless beyond measure.

I wanted for nothing materially, but if I tried to go up against him, I didn't stand a chance.

After reading through everything Gail had sent, I sat on the balcony and lit a cigarette.

I exhaled a thin stream of smoke, watching the guards patrol the courtyard below.

After a while, I dialed a number. One of my father's old men.

"I need you to stage my death."

"The sooner the better."