Chapter 3: Reach The Cage

"Thank you, Mrs. Mitchell." My voice remained steady and polite. "The journey was fine."

The lie tasted bitter. Nothing about this was fine. Every second brought me closer to becoming someone else's property. But what choice did I have?

Daisy's smile widened. "I'm so glad to hear that, dear. Please, come inside."

I forced myself forward, grip tight on my suitcase. This was my life now.

The Mitchell mansion swallowed me whole. A silent staff member appeared to take my luggage, and I had to stop myself from clutching it tighter – the last piece of my old life slipping away.

"Please, make yourself comfortable." Daisy gestured to an elegant sofa in what I assumed was one of several living rooms. Her smile was practiced. "Ruby will bring us some tea."

I sat down, back straight, hands folded in my lap. Except this wasn't a competition. This was my new reality – being presented to the family that had essentially purchased me.

A young maid appeared silently with a tea service. She couldn't have been much older than me, with dark hair pulled back severely from her face. As she poured the tea, I noticed how her movements were precise. But when I smiled and whispered "thank you," she only nodded, never opening her mouth.

"That's Ruby," Daisy said, stirring her tea. "She's been with us for some time now. Very efficient, though unable to speak, poor thing." She said it casually, like commenting on the weather, but something in her tone made my skin crawl.

"Now then," Daisy continued, "we have quite a bit to accomplish before the wedding. This afternoon, we'll need to visit my private physician in Manhattan for your preliminary examination. Just a formality, of course – we need to ensure everything is properly documented for the family records."

Family records. Like I was a thoroughbred horse being added to their stable. I gripped my teacup tighter, forcing my face to remain neutral.

"The wedding is set for this weekend," she announced, watching my reaction carefully. "Everything has already been arranged, including your custom gown. The society papers will be absolutely buzzing – it's not every day the Mitchell family celebrates a wedding."

I nearly choked on my tea. Four days. In just four days, I would be married to a man I'd never even met. It's truly nauseating..

"I... the dress," I managed to say, "you didn't need my measurements?"

Daisy's laugh tinkled. "Oh, darling, we have everything we need to know about you."

The implied meaning behind those words made my stomach turn. Of course they did. William would have sold them every detail of my life along with me.

Heavy footsteps in the hallway made us both look up. A tall man in an impeccably tailored suit appeared in the doorway – Richard Mitchell, the family patriarch. The man who had agreed to the "arrangement" with William.

"Ah, Jasmine." His voice was surprisingly warm as he crossed the room. "Even lovelier than in your photos." He studied me. "You'll make a wonderful addition to our family."

"Thank you, Mr. Mitchell." The words tasted like chalk in my mouth.

"Please, call me Richard." He sat down across from me, his presence filling the room. "I understand you've competed internationally? World championships, wasn't it?"

"Yes... I won gold in the floor exercise last year." The memory of that routine – the music, the roar of the crowd, Thomas's proud smile from the sidelines – felt like it belonged to someone else's life now.

"Remarkable," Richard nodded approvingly. "We're quite fortunate to have someone of your caliber joining our family. Louis will be pleased."

Louis. My future husband's name. I filed it away like another piece of competition intel, trying to ignore the surreal feeling of learning my husband's name from his father.

Lunch was served in a dining room that could have housed my entire gymnastics team. The maids moved silently around us as we ate, trained to perfection.

"Jasmine's achievements will certainly add prestige to the family name," Daisy was saying, cutting her salmon into precise bites. "Though of course, she'll need to adjust her public appearances to align with our family's interests."

They continued discussing me as if I wasn't there. My own opinions were neither sought nor expected. I pushed food around my plate, my appetite gone.

"The doctors say I need to maintain my training schedule," I ventured during a lull in conversation. It wasn't entirely true – I just needed to feel some control over my life, even if it was just my training routine.

"Oh, of course, dear." Daisy waved her hand. "We've had a private gymnasium installed in your suite. Everything you need is there."

A private gym. Of course. Heaven forbid I leave the premises to train. I forced myself to smile and thank them for their thoughtfulness.

My "suite" turned out to be an entire floor of the mansion's east wing. The windows were huge, looking out over the water and their fancy gardens. Everything inside was modern and simple - lots of white and beige everywhere. The closet was stuffed with expensive clothes I'd never asked for, all of them still with tags on.

Then I saw it - my own private gym with professional equipment. I had to admit, it was pretty amazing. Most gymnasts would do anything for a setup like this. But to me, it just felt like a prettier version of a prison.

The closet was packed with these crazy expensive dresses. Seemed like they really wanted to dress me up like some kind of Barbie doll. I ignored all the fancy ones and found a plain black dress in the back. Simple, not too short, nothing sparkly. Daisy would definitely hate it - exactly what I wanted.

My phone felt heavy in my pocket. I wanted to text Thomas, to tell him I was okay. He'd be worried – we'd trained together almost every day for fourteen years. But William's threat echoed in my head: "Contact anyone in Boston, and your mother pays the price."

I looked at our last photo together after World's, both of us covered in chalk and holding our medals. My finger hovered over the message icon before I forced myself to put the phone away.

Daisy nodded approvingly when she saw my choice of dress. "Elegant simplicity suits you, dear. A true grace doesn't need excessive ornaments."

Then she took me for a pre-wedding check-up. Her "private physician" turned out to be in a discreet Upper East Side clinic with no sign on the door. The receptionist's bored expression transformed into eager servility the moment Daisy gave her name.

"Mrs. Mitchell! Yes, we've been expecting you. Please, right this way."

I followed them through sterile white hallways, my heart pounding. Daisy chatted with the doctor like old friends, using terms like "full workup" and "complete documentation."

"Now then," the doctor turned to me with a practiced smile. "Let's get started with your examination, shall we?"

As I changed into the paper gown, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The gray eyes that Richard had praised looked huge and scared in my pale face. I thought of my mother, of Thomas, of my team. All the choices that had been taken from me.

Four days, I thought, wrapping my arms around myself. In four days, I'll belong to them completely.

The paper crinkled as I sat on the examination table, waiting for the doctor to return. Outside the window, Manhattan traffic flowed endlessly, the city oblivious to the girl losing the last shreds of her autonomy in this sterile room.

I closed my eyes, retreating into the mental space I used before difficult routines. Keep breathing. Stay focused. Survive.