Golden Cage, Empty Heart novel

The plane trees at the school gate had shed another layer of leaves, their golden fragments scattered across the cement floor like a scattering of broken sunlight.
Nathan carrying his red little backpack bounced over, holding up a sheet of drawing paper.
Daddy! Look at the picture I drew of us you're holding my hand, and there's a little dog behind us!
I crouched down and took the drawing from him.
"It's beautifully drawn. Nathan is a great artist."
I folded the paper and put it in my jacket pocket, then held his hand as we walked toward the residential complex. My phone was in the other pocket; its screen lit up a message from the neighborhood owners' group.
I casually tapped to open it, my finger sliding down before suddenly stopping.
An account with no notes posted a message, accompanied by a picture of two hands clasped together, both wearing rings on their ring fingers. The caption read: "The third year with Stella; may every year after be just like this."
The account name was "Troy," and I recognized it immediatelyit was Troy James.
And that woman's ring, the climbing vine pattern engraved on the band, was a design sketch I had drawn myself years ago.
It was prepared for my wedding with Stella Eaton. I spent three months revising eight drafts, finally deciding to use the character "S" from her name, turning it into a climbing vine pattern wrapped around the ring band.
In the comments under the post, someone asked about the design of the ring. Troy replied, "It's custom-made, unique, only for Stella."
I clenched the phone tightly in my hand, my palm aching.
Nathan tugged on my hand, looking up with a small face and asked, "Daddy??Hey... why'd you stop? You tired?"
I took a deep breath, slipped the phone back into my pocket, and swallowed the rising emotions.
"No, I'm watching the little kitten over there."
I pointed to the orange cat by the flower bed nearby. Nathan was instantly drawn to it and ran over.
The events of that year are like a scab that's formed; I thought it had healed, but Troy's post is like a needle, gently pricking, making the pain stir faintly again.
But I can't turn back anymore. Nathan is still waiting for meI have to completely sever ties with the past.
"Daddy! The kitten ran away! Can we go buy some ice cream?"
Nathan ran back, tugging at the corner of my shirt and shaking it.
I smiled and nodded, holding his hand as we walked towards the convenience store. The sunlight fell on us warmly enough to melt away the coldness of the past.

The day before the wedding three years ago, I was still trying on my suit.
The tailor measured my shoulder width with a soft tape while Stella Eaton sat on the sofa nearby, flipping through a magazine, her tone casual: "Jeremy, make sure you don't mess up the schedule tomorrow. My parents care a lot about the ceremony."
I smiled at the mirror. "Don't worry, I've memorized everything. I won't embarrass you."
Back then, I truly believed I was the happiest man in the worldabout to marry the woman I loved, surrounded by parents who cared for me, and running my own small design studio.
But I never expected the nightmare to come the very next morning.
I went out to pick up the custom-made boutonniere, and just as I reached the alley entrance, two masked men covered my mouth and shoved me into a van.
The van drove for a long time and finally stopped in an abandoned warehouse. They tied me to a cold iron chair and blindfolded me.
"Call your family. We want 800 million ransom. It must arrive before tomorrow noon, or prepare to be buried."
A hoarse voice echoed in the darkness, carrying a chilling threat.
I shakily gave them my dad's phone number. Once the call connected, I heard my mother crying, while my dad's voice remained steady: "Don't hurt my son. We'll gather the money, just please don't do anything reckless."
After hanging up, the masked man threw my phone to the ground.
The days that followed were endless darkness and torment.
Every day, they gave me only one bottle of water and a hard steamed bun. Sometimes, if they forgot, I had to go hungry the entire day.
Once, I asked if they could at least give me something warm, but all I got was a fist slammed into my stomach. The pain made me curl up on the floor, unable to stand for a long time.
On the fifth day, I heard the radio outside the warehouse. The financial news being broadcast mentioned Stella's name.
"Ms. Stella Eaton recently invested in a new energy project, which raised over one hundred million dollars in financing on its first day, becoming the biggest dark horse in the industry..."
I was stunned. Eight hundred million ransommy parents could scrape that together even if they sold the company. So why did Stella still have that much money to invest in a new project?
On the seventh day, the masked man made me call again. This time, Stella answered.
"Jeremy, don't be afraid. We're raising the money." Her voice sounded very anxious.
But just as I was about to say, "Hurry up," I heard someone next to her call out, "Stella, the meeting is about to start, stop chatting."
It was Troy James's voice.
My heart sank. After she hung up, a masked man sneered, "Your fiance is quite reckless, using your family's money for investments while parading around with another man."
I refused to believe it, shaking my head desperately, telling myself they were lying to me.
On the tenth day, they brought me to a small window in the warehouse. Outside, on a TV screen, an interview was playingStella was dressed in an exquisite gown, standing beside Troy, the two sharing a knowing smile.
The host asked, "Ms. Eaton, is there anyone you would like to thank for your success this time?"
Stella looked at Troy, her eyes shining with a smile: "The person I should thank the most is Troy James. Without his support, I wouldn't have come this far."
My vision went black, and I nearly collapsed to the ground.
The masked man dragged me back onto the iron chair, his voice dripping with sarcasm: "Do you believe it now? You're such a sucker. You'd even count the money for them while they sell you out."
It was only later that I found out Stella, after receiving the ransom money my parents had gathered, didn't hand it over to the kidnappers. Instead, she invested it in a project Troy had recommended.
She even brought out a paternity test and told my parents that I'm not their biological son, telling them not to waste any more money.
For fifteen days, I waited every day for someone to come rescue me, but all I got were endless tortures and scenes of Stella and Troy's "love" playing on the TV.
My spirit was like a tightly stretched string, snapping with a sharp "crack."

On the night of the fifteenth day, the kidnappers in the warehouse, drunk and noisy, eventually fell asleep.
The rope on my wrist had worn loose; gritting my teeth, I slowly worked the knot open.
I didn't dare turn on the light. Feeling my way in the dark toward the warehouse door, I had just stepped outside when I tripped over a stone and hit my knee on the cement floor, the pain nearly bringing tears to my eyes.
I wasn't wearing any clothes; my body was covered with wounds, some scabbed over, others still bleeding.
The cold wind sliced against my skin like knives, but I ignored the chill and ran toward the light.
After running for about half an hour, I saw a brightly lit building with luxury cars parked at the entrance and a banner that read "Charity Gala."
I recognized the placeit was the International Convention and Exhibition Center downtown, where Stella had an event today.
Grasping at my last lifeline, I rushed inside.
The hall was carpeted in red; guests wore splendid gowns and held champagne glasses. When they saw me burst in, they all froze.
Flashes went off instantly. Some people pulled out phones to take pictures, and murmurs swelled like a tide.
"Who is this? Why isn't he wearing any clothes?"
"He's covered in wounds. Did something happen to him?"
I saw Stella standing on the stage, dressed in a white evening gown, like an elegant princess.
I ran toward her, my voice hoarse: "Stella! Help me! I've been kidnapped!"
Stella saw me, and the smile on her face froze instantly. Then she frowned and quickly walked off the stage.
She came up to me, lowering her voice with full disdain: "Jeremy, have you caused enough trouble?"
"They want ransom. Why don't you save me?" I grabbed her arm.
She yanked her arm free, raising her voice so everyone could hear: "Are you crazy? Kidnapped? Don't give me that. You never wanted to marry me, and now you're just making up pathetic excuses!"
"You said before you didn't want to be tied down by marriage, and now you disgrace us like thisyou never learn, do you?"
The whispers around us grew louder, with some starting to murmur: "So it was deliberate. He wanted to ruin Ms. Eaton's press conference."
"He looks respectable, how can he be so extreme?"
I was stunned, staring into Stella's cold eyes, my heart pierced as if by an ice pick.
At that moment, Troy walked over and placed a hand on Stella's shoulder, looking at me with a tone both gentle yet malicious: "Jeremy, let's talk in private. Don't disturb Stella here."
He pulled me into the nearby lounge and closed the door behind us.
"You think you can turn the tables?" Troy leaned against the door, arms crossed. "Let me tell you, your parents moved abroad long ago. They thought you're not their biological son and abandoned you."
"Stella is already doing more than enough by wanting to keep you by her side. If you know what's good for you, learn to behave and stop causing her trouble."
I was trembling all over, unable to believe his words: "Impossible! My parents wouldn't just abandon me!"
"Believe it or not." Troy took out his wallet, pulled out a stack of money, and threw it in front of me. "Take this money and go buy some clothes. Don't show up in front of Stella again, unless you want everyone to think you're crazy."
At that moment, Stella pushed the door open, holding a jacket in her hand, and threw it over me.
"Put it on. Don't stay here." Her tone was condescending, almost like charity: "If you behave from now on, I'll still feed you. But if you cause trouble again, you won't even have a place to live."
I stared at the money on the ground, then at Stella's cold face, and suddenly felt utterly powerless.
I have no money, nowhere to go, and even my parents "abandon" me.
To survive, I have no choice but to submit.
I picked up the money from the ground, put on the jacket, and walked out of the lounge, while behind me I heard Stella and Troy's conversation.
"He should listen, right?"
"Don't worry, he's just a beaten dog now and won't cause any more trouble."
I clenched my fists tightly, my nails digging into my palms, the metallic taste of blood spreading in my mouth, yet I didn't dare look back.

From that day on,?I lived in Stella's shadow.
I lived in the guest room of her house, helping her clean, cook, and organize documents every day, like a maid.
Her relationship with Troy grew increasingly intimate; sometimes they would hold hands, hug, and even discuss their future right in front of me.
Every time I saw that, it killed me, and I could only use the excuse of going to the kitchen for water to avoid those scenes.
Stella occasionally asks me to watch movies or have meals with her, but whenever she tries to get close, I instinctively pull away.
The experience of being kidnapped was like a nightmare, and I can no longer accept any form of intimate contact from anyone.
Once, she grabbed my hand, and I reflexively shook it off; her hand hit the table and turned red.
"Jeremy, what do you mean?" She frowned, her tone tinged with displeasure.
"I... I feel stomach discomfort and want to rest first." I made an excuse and slipped into the guest room.
I thought that as long as I behaved obediently and didn't make her angry, I could live peacefully.
But I was wrong.
That day was Troy's birthday. Stella had drunk a lot, and when she came home, she reeked of alcohol.
She stormed into my room, grabbed my arm, her eyes clouded: "Jeremy, why do you always avoid me? Are you still angry with me?"
"I'm not..." I tried to push her away, but she held on tight.
"You are angry with me!" Her emotions suddenly erupted as she reached out to tear at my clothes.
I was startled by her actions; images from the kidnapping flashed through my mind in an instantthose cold hands, those violent movements.
I suddenly pushed hard, trying to shove her away, but she lost her balance, fell backward, and hit her head against the bedside table with a thud.
She clutched her head, tears falling. "You actually hit me! Jeremy, you're crazy!"
I froze, reaching out to help her, when the door suddenly swung open and Troy rushed in.
He saw Stella sitting on the floor crying and immediately pushed me aside. "What did you do to her?"
"I didn't mean to, she was drunk, I just wanted to push her away..." I hurriedly explained.
But Troy didn't listen; he took out his phone and dialed 911, his tone urgent: "There's someone mentally unstable here, hurting peopleplease come quickly!"
I panicked, grabbing his hand: "Don't call the police! I'm not crazy!"
"Not crazy?" Troy sneered. "Take a look at yourself. If this isn't crazy, then what is?"
Stella leaned against Troy's chest, crying: "Troy, I'm so scared. He was so fierce just now. Is he really crazy?"
Soon, the police arrived. They looked at me with wary eyes.
Troy took out the previously prepared "evidence" the sleeping pills prescribed by the doctor because of my nightmares and insomnia, and the emotional diaries I occasionally wrote, filled with many negative thoughts.
"Sir, he has had mental health issues before. Today, he suddenly had an episode and even hurt Stella. He must be sent to a psychiatric hospital for treatment."
I tried to explain, but no one would listen.
They put me into the police car. Stella stood at the door, looking at me with complicated eyes: "Jeremy, take it easy. I'll get you out as soon as I can. Take good care of yourself."
I watched her lips move, but I couldn't make out what she was saying; all that remained in my heart was despair.
I knew she wouldn't come to get me. Sending me to the psychiatric hospital was just a way to eliminate the last obstacle for her and Troy's future.
The moment the iron door of the psychiatric hospital slammed shut, I felt my world go completely dark.

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