Chapter 45
The bells of Saint Nicholas Cathedral tolled softly as the midnight mass ended, the stone arches glowing with candlelight. Christmas carols drifted faintly through the speakers. Families spilled into the square, children clutching sweets, couples arm-in-arm.
My fingers tugged on my coat, standing nearby, waiting for Sloane, who was talking with Millie and Soeren. My eyes fell on Dione, standing a few steps ahead, grinning from ear to ear.
Reaching out, I cupped her cheeks and pressed them playfully, making her look like a chipmunk. I laughed behind my mask as I let go. "Merry Christmas, Pops!" she greeted, hugging me.
I wrapped my arms around her, swaying us both under the breezy night of Monaco. I sighed, glancing at the starry sky. My therapy was helping—I could walk without medical assistance, even if my body still felt fragile.
"Merry Christmas, little moon," I said, patting her head.
"Pops..." she began, still hugging me but glancing up at me.
I hummed, stroking her long black hair. "What is it?"
Dione pouted, hugging me tighter. "This Christmas, I'm not looking for a material gift," she said, smiling. "But... will you please stay until I'm eighteen? I want you to dance with me in the crowd."
My head tilted, a shiver running through me as the wind brushed past. I tucked the scarf around my neck and let out a soft sigh.
I smiled at Dione, faking a count on my fingers.
"Well, sweetie... you just turned thirteen," I said, twitching my lips as I thought.
"That's five more years until your debut. Am I still going to be around by then?"
She huffed, puffing out her cheeks as she crossed her arms. "Pops!" she stomped like a little diva throwing a tantrum. "You better be around, or else I'll dig you up and dance with your bones!"
A startled laugh burst from my chest, my shoulders shaking. Dione giggled with me, her eyes sparkling. "You little devil," I teased, poking her nose. "Then you'd better make sure my bones look good, okay?"
She laughed again, then let out an exaggerated sigh. "Pops... the doctor said I don't have your illness, right?"
I froze, my body going still before I cleared my throat. "Leukemia isn't hereditary, sweetheart. Besides, didn't Mommy and I already take you for routine tests? Everything was clear. Why are you asking?"
Dione shrugged, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the ground.
Then she stepped back, lifting her hands as if framing me in an invisible portrait.
"Because I still want to be like you. A fashion designer—the queen of haute couture!
" she declared, her voice full of determination. "I want to reach all my dreams first."
A deep sigh escaped me, a mix of pride and ache. I beckoned her closer, bending slightly as though performing a ceremony. My hands lifted an invisible crown from my own head and placed it gently on hers.
"I, Aurora DeLacroix, queen of haute couture, owner of DeLacroix Couture and Luxury House, hereby announce that I will transfer my title to my rightful heir, Dione Duvall DeLacroix," I said, giggling at my own theatrics.
Dione dipped into a bow, playing along like a princess paying homage to her queen.
"Your Highness," she intoned solemnly, "it is my utmost pleasure to accept the duty you have given me.
With the name vested in me, I will do my best to fulfill my responsibility and bring glory to the world!
" She raised her hand high like a conquering knight, making me laugh again at her dramatic flair.
Then she giggled and launched herself at me, hugging tight. "Pops, I love you," she said, burying her face against my stomach.
I swallowed hard, hugging her back, stroking her hair even as a sharp throb flared in my chest. "I love you more, sweetie," I managed, catching my breath.
My eyes flickered to Sloane making her way back to us across the square. I straightened slowly, breathing deep to hide the pain. Dione stepped back, her playful expression melting into concern as she searched my face.
"Pops... are you alright?" she asked softly.
I looked at her, nodding as I clutched my chest. I took a few deep breaths, letting the pain subside.
"Another chest pain?" Sloane's voice made both Dione and me turn toward her. She gave a faint smile, stepping closer. She patted Dione's hair before turning to me, her hands brushing over my shoulders as she adjusted my coat and scarf.
She rubbed her gloved hands together, then cupped my face. I returned a faint smile, resting my hands on her waist. Her baby bump was just starting to show, and her worried eyes met mine.
"Just acting up, but it's fine now," I said, smiling at her.
I slid behind her, wrapping my arms around her stomach and resting my chin on her shoulder.
"Come on, let's head to Papa's house—they're expecting us.
" I pressed a playful kiss to her neck as we started walking.
Dione skipped a few steps ahead, laughing as she hopped across the stone tiles, her joy infectious. The scent of pine and roasting chestnuts filled the crisp December air.
"Next year," Sloane whispered, holding my hands resting on her bump, "we'll bring the baby, too."
I sighed, smiling as I straightened up behind her, resting my chin atop her head. My eyes wandered to the flickering lights around us. Next year... I thought, shrugging. If there was one.
"We'll see to it," I said, sliding my arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. Sloane looked up at me, then wrapped both arms around my waist, resting her head against my chest as we continued toward the car.
"We just finished our first trimester, Ro," she murmured. "Just six more months, and we'll meet our little one."
I hummed, nodding as our driver opened the backseat. "Just a little more, and this little moon here will be a big sister," I said, glancing at Dione, who was already waiting for us with a grin.
Sloane slid into the backseat, followed by Dione, and I was last.
"Mommy," Dione leaned close to her mother, resting against Sloane's bump. "I hope it's a boy!"
I chuckled as our driver closed the door and climbed into the front seat. I leaned back, closing my eyes. "But what if it's a girl?" I asked, adjusting my coat and trying to steady my trembling body.
"Then... I'll let her wear the clothes I design!" Dione giggled, making me laugh.
I opened one eye to glance at them. Sloane was stroking Dione's hair while Dione remained pressed close to her mother's belly.
"Why does it feel like you're already planning to make our little one your fashion model, sweetheart?" Sloane teased, laughing softly.
"A fashion model and a fashion designer..." I echoed with a grin. "Not bad at all. You two will reign over haute couture someday," I teased.
The ride to my father's mansion was filled with our laughter and playful teasing, even the driver chuckled at Dione's antics. I couldn't help but smile at how lively it felt to be with them.
When we arrived, I held Sloane's hand as Dione ran ahead to greet her grandfather, Claudine, and my half-siblings. Even Thalia's family was there for the celebration.
"Finally, you guys are here!" Claudine welcomed us with a bright smile. She hugged me lightly and patted my back. "How's your therapy, Aurora?" she asked, stepping back to guide us inside.
"Fine," I said, still holding Sloane's hand. "Though... my memory lapses sometimes," I added with a low laugh.
She hummed in understanding. "Must be the medication, right? Still, it's good to hear the experimental therapy is working."
I faintly smiled and simply nodded.
Dinner was filled with laughter and teasing, the kind of warmth that made us feel like a normal family again. For the first time in years, I didn't feel like I was fighting my battle alone.
When it came time for gifts, we all gathered in the living room, exchanging presents and handwritten letters. Dione perched herself on my lap, her little arms wrapped tightly around me, her face buried against my chest.
"What's wrong with my young lady?" I asked softly, hugging her back.
She leaned up to my ear, whispering, "Pops, make my wish come true, okay?" Then she kissed my cheek.
I hummed, smiling gently. "We'll see, sweetie. Pops doesn't like to make promises... but if my body holds out with the therapy, maybe I could even walk you down the aisle one day."
Her cheeks flushed, and she gave a little sigh before hiding her face in my neck again. Sloane chuckled, resting her hand on my knee and tracing soothing circles there.
"Actually," Sloane said, her voice warm with mischief, "I think your pops has something for you, sweetheart."
"Oh yes!" Thalia chimed in with a grin. "She's been keeping it hidden from you, Dione."
Dione sat up straight on my lap, eyes wide. "What is it, Pops?"
I only smiled, reaching into my pocket for a handkerchief. Spreading it out, I folded it into a strip and gently tied it over her eyes. "You'll see soon enough," I teased, standing and guiding her toward the center of the room.
That was when my father entered, carrying a large box. Everyone rose, cheering Dione on as she shuffled forward with her arms outstretched, giggling as she tried not to bump into anything. At last, she reached him.
Slowly, she tugged the blindfold away. Her eyes fell on the box, brows furrowed in curiosity. "What's this?" she asked, looking around.
"Open it," I urged softly, nodding toward her.
My father crouched down, steadying the box as Dione pried open the lid. A small gasp escaped her, followed by an excited whimper.
"A Labrador puppy!" she squealed, scooping it up in her arms.
She spun toward me, running across the room with the pup wriggling happily in her hold. "Pops! Mommy! Thank you!" she cried, hugging the little dog as it licked her cheeks. Her laughter filled the room, bright and alive, like the sweetest Christmas hymn.
I couldn't help but smile at how happy my daughter looked. Everyone had gathered around Dione, laughing as they played with the puppy, while Sloane and I stayed seated, simply watching.
After a moment, I shifted, rising slowly to my feet. "Gotta step out for a while," I murmured, pressing a quick kiss to Sloane's cheek before slipping out into the back garden.
The cold night air hit me like a wave.
My breathing grew ragged as I braced one hand against the wall, the other clutching my chest where the pain throbbed like a living thing.
I groaned, crouching down, eyes squeezing shut.
"It hurts so much," I whispered to no one, trying to steady my breath.
I stayed like that, clutching myself, until I felt something warm brush against my skin. My eyes flickered open, blurred by unshed tears. "Sloey..." I breathed, my voice breaking.
Sloane knelt in front of me, her face tight with worry. "What's wrong? Do you need your pain reliever?" she asked gently, cupping my face in her gloved hands.
I shook my head, my breath hitching as tears finally slipped free. "It hurts here," I whispered, pressing my fist to my chest.
She moved closer without hesitation, pulling me against her.
We sank down together onto the cold grass.
"Breathe with me," she murmured, her palm rubbing slow circles over my sternum as if she could ease the pain with her touch alone.
Her breaths were slow, steady—an anchor for me to follow.
I coughed, tasting copper at the back of my throat, but forced myself to swallow it down. Eyes shut, I matched her rhythm, dragging air into my lungs until the worst of the pain ebbed. "I'm sorry," I whispered when at last it began to fade.
We stayed there in silence under the night sky, the scent of pine drifting from the house. My head dropped onto her shoulder, my body trembling with the aftershocks. "I'm so weak," I said with a cracked laugh.
Sloane shook her head softly, holding me tighter.
"You're not weak," she murmured. "You've been fighting this alone for years.
That's not weakness, Ro—that's courage. That's you.
" She pressed her cheek to my temple. "A little more, okay?
Just a little more. But..." her voice wavered, ".
..if your body can't hold it anymore, promise me you'll tell me. Don't leave me in the dark."
?·???°???°???·?
Snow rarely falls in Monaco, but tonight, the air carried the same sharp stillness—the kind that makes you feel as though the world itself is holding its breath. Fireworks already streaked the distant sky, reflections dancing in Sloane's hazel eyes.
I had promised myself I would fight, even if every cell in my body begged for rest. I would stay longer. For my sun. For our children. For them.
I stood behind Sloane on the terrace of the H?tel de Paris, my arms wrapped gently around her baby bump, my chin resting on the crown of her head. Dione stood beside her mother, gripping Sloane's hand, her little frame shivering in the cold.
"It's getting colder," I whispered, chuckling as I pressed closer, inhaling the warmth of Sloane's scent.
The harbor sparkled with light—champagne flutes, sequins, and the anticipatory hum of the crowd. The sky ignited in streaks of silver and gold as we counted down the final seconds of the year.
"Trois! Deux! Un!"
Dione leaped with glee, eyes wide as fireworks exploded above. "Happy New Year!" she giggled, her laughter ringing like music.
"A new year, indeed, my little moon," I said, bending down to press a gentle kiss to her temple.
Sloane turned to face me, and I extended my arms. She threw herself into me, and I laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Happy New Year, my sun," I whispered against her ear.
"Happy New Year, my dawn," she murmured, burying her face in my chest, and for a moment, the world felt still—perfect, unbroken, ours.
Dione snickered as she hugged the two of us. We exchanged New Year's greetings until Thalia approached.
"Happy New Year, guys!" she greeted, planting a peck on both Sloane's and my cheeks.
She turned to Dione. "Happy New Year, kiddo." Then her gaze landed on me. "Anyway, I might snag your daughter here for a while. Is that fine with you two?"
I shrugged, glancing at Sloane. She smiled reassuringly at Thalia. "No worries." Then she knelt slightly to meet Dione's gaze. "Dione, sweetie, remember to behave, alright?"
Dione beamed, nodding before clutching her aunt's hand. Thalia waved at us and led Dione away, her laughter trailing behind them.
"Another year," I murmured, walking to the terrace railing and leaning both hands against it.
Sloane slid between my arms, standing in front of me and wrapping her own arms around my neck. "Another year..." she echoed, looking up at me with those hazel eyes that always pierced right through.
I swallowed hard, meeting her gaze. She faintly smiled, brushing a hand over my bonnet and then smoothing my scarf. Her sigh trembled as her hands lingered on me.
"What's wrong?" I asked, tilting my head.
Her eyes glistened as she blinked rapidly. "Just... proud of you," she murmured, voice cracking. "Really proud of you—for battling your illness," she whispered, cupping my cheeks.
I leaned closer, feeling her warmth seep into me. My arms went around her, pulling her closer. I tugged my overcoat around us, closing the gap between us. I kissed her lips, claiming her gently under the fireworks of New Year's Eve.
Sloane chuckled into the kiss, wrapping her arms around the back of my neck and pulling me closer. We deepened the kiss, oblivious to the world around us, to the celebrations, to everything—lost entirely in each other.
My hands cupped her back, tugging her head even closer. "I love you," I whispered between kisses, pressing her gently against the terrace railing.
"I love you more," Sloane gasped, her chest rising and falling as we parted just enough to breathe. We chuckled, faces flushed, eyes locked.
I held both her hands and swayed us in a playful, nonsense dance, making her laugh as her cheeks turned pink. In this moment, my body felt strong—maybe even invincible.
I sighed, spinning Sloane gently so her back pressed against me, our hands still entwined. Together, we gazed at the glittering Monaco horizon. "My arms feel like they were made for holding you, Sloey," I murmured.
"They're perfectly made just for me," she hummed, a soft chuckle escaping her.
Silence wrapped around us, comfortable and intimate. We stayed tangled, close enough to feel the rhythm of each other's heartbeat. Behind us, the hotel's New Year's party buzzed with laughter and chatter, a backdrop of celebration against our quiet world.
"Oh," Sloane said, letting go of my hands and turning toward me. "I'm kind of thirsty; I'll go get—"
"I'll get it," I interrupted, cupping her cheeks and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "Stay here. I'll be right back."
I slipped off the terrace, heading toward the open buffet area.
Just as I reached for a drink, someone called my name. I turned to see Celeste waving, walking briskly toward me.
"Ms. Aurora," Celeste said, bowing slightly. "Happy New Year."
I returned her nod with a small smile. "Celeste, happy New Year to you too." My eyes scanned her quickly. "Alone?"
She shook her head. "I brought my mother and father."
"That's nice," I said, holding my glass of water.
"Oh, right, Ms. Aurora, aren't you with your wife?" Celeste frowned, glancing around.
"Yeah," I said, lifting my glass. "Sloane's on the terrace. I'm just getting her some water."
Celeste nodded, opening her mouth to speak again, when a deafening sound split the air. Guests screamed, scattering in panic, rushing toward exits.
"What was that?" I asked, eyes darting to the chaos around us.
"Oh my gosh," Celeste gasped, pointing ahead. My gaze followed hers—and froze.
In the middle of the crowd, a masked figure stood, gun raised, firing repeatedly into the ceiling. The sharp echoes made the guests dive for cover. Then, with a cold precision, the shooter lowered the gun, aiming straight ahead.
A knot formed in my throat as my eyes locked on the target. There—frozen in terror—was Sloane.
"Shit," I hissed, the glass slipping from my hand as I bolted toward her. "Sol!" I shouted, my voice raw with panic.
She turned, eyes wide, her own voice cutting through the chaos. "Aurora!"
Her gaze darted from me to the gunman, frozen in fear.
My heart pounded as I crossed the hallway, time stretching and snapping with every step.
The gunman stood frozen, gun aimed at Sloane.
No, no, no! My mind screamed as I yanked her into a tight embrace, turning her so my back faced the shooter.
I pressed her against me, letting my body shield hers.
A deafening crack split the air. Guests screamed, pleading, crying, scattering in chaos. Sloane buried her face against my chest, covering her ears. I winced at the sound, pain shooting through me before I even realized what had happened.
"Fuck!" I hissed, coughing as iron coated my tongue.
Another round rang out. I couldn't process anything except the burning, blinding pain in my chest, tearing through me like fire.
Sloane's wide eyes found mine. "Ro!" she gasped, cupping my face. Her gaze darted to the left corner, and with trembling hands, she pried open my coat. My white cashmere shirt bloomed red.
My knees gave out, and I crumpled to the floor.
"Ro!" Sloane screamed, sinking beside me, cradling me against her. Her body shook as tears streamed down her face. "No, no, no... Ro, stay with me! Stay with me!" she begged, her voice breaking. "Somebody, please call an ambulance!"
I rasped a bitter laugh, trying to catch my breath, though pain shredded every inhale. "It... it hurts," I managed, coughing more blood, tasting the metallic bite with every desperate gasp.
She pressed her forehead to mine, arms trembling as they wrapped around me. "Ro... stay with me. Please, don't..." Her sobs cracked the air. "The ambulance is coming, okay? Just—just stay. Please."
A shuddering laugh escaped me, my body trembling violently as I clutched her coat with weakening fingers. My vision blurred, blinking fast to steady it. "I'm so glad..." I gasped, coughing, blood flecking my lips, "I was able to marry you."
My hand found her face, fingertips grazing her tear-streaked cheek. "I love you," I whispered, voice wet and muffled with blood. "I... I love you, Sol."
"Stop, stop," Sloane sobbed, pressing my face to her chest. "Please don't talk like you're leaving me, Ro. Honey... please..."
"I'm sorry..." I groaned, breath hitching as I fought for air. "For... for hurting you back then. For leaving you." My chest rattled with each inhale. "I'm sorry..."
I shut my eyes, faintly smiling as her scent wrapped around me. She's safe. She's alive. That's all that matters.
"Ro, please. Stay, don't leave me like this." Her voice cracked, calling my name again and again. Her words echoed like a bell from far away, but I couldn't hold onto them. Am I really going to die here? Will I never see her again?
Numbness crept through me, limbs heavy and unresponsive. I tried to open my eyes, but darkness pressed in. The world around me blurred into faint, distant echoes.
I felt Sloane's arms clutching me tighter, her warmth trying to anchor me. I wanted to answer her, to promise I'd stay, but before I could shape the words, the world dissolved into silence.