Chapter 68
It was my first time visiting Aurora's family house. It wasn't my first time seeing her mother since Aurora usually called her through video calls, and she had introduced me that way before. But being here in Monaco felt entirely different.
I swallowed hard as my grip on Aurora's hand tightened while we walked inside the wide foyer of their mansion. Aurora glanced at me, pulling me closer as she wrapped her arm around my waist.
"Nervous?" she leaned in and whispered to me.
A soft hum escaped my throat, and I nodded. "Sort of," I said, my hand reaching for the hem of her shirt. "It's my first time meeting your mother in person."
She gave me a reassuring smile as her hand slid up my arm and gave it a gentle rub. "Don't worry, hun. Mom will definitely like you."
I nudged her, my face flushing despite the nervousness. As we reached the living room, I saw a woman wearing a pantsuit, her long black hair tied in a high ponytail. She was standing with her back to us, talking to a man in a suit.
"Mom," Aurora called out.
The woman glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into a sweet smile before turning back to the man, as if dismissing him. She walked toward us, arms extended. "Hello there, my dear," she said, cupping Aurora's cheeks before kissing her daughter's forehead.
Then she turned her gaze to me. Her face resembled Aurora's—just sharper, fiercer. She gave me a smile, a warm and welcoming one. "And you must be my daughter's girl? Sloane, right?" she asked.
"Yes, Ma–ma'am," I stammered, my voice cracking, which made Aurora snicker beside me. I nudged her in the waist, my face burning even more.
Aurora's mother laughed softly and reached out to give me cheek-to-cheek kisses. "It's nice to finally meet the woman who caught my cold daughter."
"Mom," Aurora groaned, rolling her eyes.
I couldn't help but giggle. "It's my pleasure to meet you, Auntie," I said with a small bow before standing straighter.
Tilting her head, Aurora's mother studied my face. "You look even prettier in person, Sloane dear. No wonder my cold daughter here is smitten by you."
My lips pressed into a thin line as I tried not to get flustered. Aurora's face turned red—and so did her ears. "Mom, stop it," she said, her voice low and shy.
Her mother laughed again, looking at both of us. "Well, now that you two are here, I want to show you something," she said, calling for their housekeepers to assist with our luggage. "Come with me."
Aurora and I exchanged glances; she shrugged, then ushered me along as we followed her mother. We walked toward the east wing of the mansion until she stopped before a glass room filled with test fabrics and empty-faced porcelain dolls.
She unlocked the glass door and opened it wide. "Come in," she said.
I glanced around, taking in the view of the atelier.
"What's with the porcelain dolls, Mom?" Aurora asked, looking at the neatly lined shelves of dolls.
"A limited collection," her mother replied as she walked toward a desk and leaned slightly to type something on her laptop. "I'm giving you two a gift, and I want you to design it," she said, turning the laptop toward us.
"This was the system where you could design the face of the doll," her mother explained, pointing to the large printer in the corner. "Then, you just needed to place the doll on the printer, and it would print the design directly onto the doll's skin."
"And... you wanted to give us a porcelain doll?" Aurora asked, glancing from her mother to me.
Her mother nodded, smiling sweetly. "Yes. A gift for the two of you. And if you want, Rory dear, you can sew a dress for the dolls as well."
Aurora only shrugged before pulling me toward the laptop. A software program was open on the screen, displaying a 3D image of a porcelain doll.
Both Aurora and I decided we would each design our own dolls. We worked on them for a couple of hours, and when we were done, we couldn't help but giggle as we carried each of our finished dolls. Her mother watched us, smiling.
Aurora had made a doll with my facial features, while mine bore Aurora's.
"You two don't look like you're deeply in love with each other," her mother teased, making both of us blush.
I jolted slightly when a hand touched my arm. Blinking, I turned and found Aurora's face close to mine. I swallowed hard, clearing my throat.
"Are you alright, Sloey?" Aurora asked, her eyes filled with concern.
"I..." My voice broke as I rubbed the back of my neck and forced a faint smile, reaching to hold her hand. "Just remembered something."
She raised a brow, then sighed softly. "We're here," she said, nodding toward the restaurant.
"Oh," I mumbled, realizing only then that we had already arrived. I'd been lost in the memory.
Aurora pulled her hand away as she stepped out of the car, then came around to open my door. She offered her hand, and I took it as she helped me out. After closing the door, we began walking toward the restaurant.
As we entered the place I'd been wanting to try for weeks, Aurora suddenly froze. I noticed how her grip on my hand tightened. I blinked, following her gaze—only to find a man standing in front of us.
"Ro," I whispered, swallowing hard as silence settled between them. There was something heavy, unspoken, lingering in the air.
Aurora drew in a shaky breath before bowing slightly. "Fancy seeing you here tonight," she greeted quietly. "Papa."
A soft gasp escaped my lips as I looked at her. She met my eyes briefly, giving me a small, almost apologetic smile. Wait—this man standing before us... was her biological father?
"Rory," the man said, reaching a hand toward her, but Aurora stepped back. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Judging by her reaction, she clearly hadn't expected to see him either. It was as if she couldn't quite believe what she was looking at. "I heard from your niece that you no longer live in Monaco," she said, frowning. "So... why are you here?"
The man chuckled softly at her words. "Am I not allowed to visit when the Petrou clan is in town?" he said with a sigh. "Come, let's have dinner togeth—"
"I have a reservation with my wife tonight." Aurora's tone cut firm, her hand trembling slightly in mine. I squeezed it gently, silently reassuring her.
"Wife?" her father repeated, raising a brow. "You're married? And you didn't invite your father to the wedding?"
"Father?" Aurora laughed bitterly. "How are you my father when I grew up never even knowing what one was?"
"Ro," I whispered, placing a hand on her arm to stop her from stepping forward.
"Well," the man said, shifting his gaze to me, "I am Aurora's father." He extended a hand toward me. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
I looked at Aurora, then sighed softly before taking his hand briefly. "Sloane. Sloane Duvall, sir," I introduced myself, shaking his hand before pulling mine back.
"Duvall," he echoed, smiling faintly. "Ah—of Duvall Capital Group, of course."
A polite, faint smile curved my lips.
He nodded before turning his attention to Aurora. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Rory, have dinner with the family tonight. It's been far too long, and I'd very much like to see your wife properly introduced to your father's side."
"No," Aurora said firmly. "My wife and I have a table reserved for two. We're not joining your family."
My grip on her hand tightened. Aurora glanced at me, but I shook my head slightly. We were in the middle of that silent exchange when another voice caught our attention.
"Uncle!"
Aurora groaned softly, making me turn toward her. A woman swept past us, her attention fixed entirely on Aurora's father. But when she turned around, my stomach dropped.
Wait... I swallowed hard, glancing at Aurora and then at the woman. I knew her. Wasn't she the one Aurora had a fling with after we broke up? I remembered seeing her on Aurora's social media posts years ago.
"Rory!" the woman exclaimed, rushing forward to my wife.
My brow arched as she hugged Aurora like they'd known each other forever. Clearing my throat, I noticed the woman suddenly step back—as if she'd just realized I existed.
She looked at me, eyes widening in recognition. "I know you," she said, pointing at me before I could even complain about her hugging my wife. "Aren't you Aurora's ex? Why are you here with her?"
I turned to Aurora, narrowing my eyes. "Aurora," I began slowly, suspicion rising.
"I think there's a misunderstanding," Aurora blurted out quickly, her eyes darting between the woman and me.
"What misunderstanding?" I asked, frowning. I pointed toward the woman. "I remember you. You're Aurora's... fling, aren't you?"
The woman gasped, covering her mouth, while Aurora groaned, dragging a hand down her face.
"What's going on here?" Aurora's father interrupted sharply. "How could Rory and Thalia be a fling when they're cousins?"
I froze. "Cousins?" I repeated, staring at both Aurora and the woman in front of us. They didn't even look related.
Aurora sighed. "Thalia isn't my fling. She's my cousin. Her father,"—she gestured toward her own father—"is his brother. I only asked her to help me pretend back then—to make you believe I'd found someone else. To make you... stop chasing me."
I went completely still. What?
"How heartless," Aurora's father muttered, drawing my attention back to him.
"Not nearly as heartless as abandoning your wife and your only daughter, sir," Aurora shot back coldly.
I couldn't help but scoff, raising an eyebrow. "Wow," I muttered. "Guess you took after him, huh? You abandoned me just as easily."
Thalia nearly choked trying not to laugh. "This is so much fun," she said, grinning at Aurora. "Why don't you two join the family dinner, Rory? Come on—it's the first time this month I'll be seeing you since I just got back from abroad."
In the end, we reluctantly joined the unexpected dinner with her father's side of the family. Aurora introduced me properly, and somehow I found myself in the hot seat—fielding endless questions about our relationship, our marriage, and how we'd met.
When dinner finally ended, we excused ourselves and thanked everyone before leaving. I suggested that we stop by the Japanese Garden by the Sea before heading home.
As we walked hand in hand, I couldn't help but glance at Aurora, noticing how her eyes kept darting toward me. "Why didn't you tell me she was your cousin?" I asked.
Aurora tightened her grip on my hand. "Did you really believe I had a fling right after we broke up?"
What else was I supposed to think? I'd seen the pictures on her account back then, and I had no idea the woman was her cousin.
I just hummed, letting out a soft chuckle. "I mean... even back in university, you had people chasing after you—girls, boys, everyone. It wouldn't have been impossible."
I remembered how people used to envy me for winning the heart of the ice-cold queen. Aurora had been famous on campus—admired for her intelligence, her background, and the way she carried herself.
Aurora exhaled, shaking her head. "I'm sorry if I made you think that," she said quietly. "But it was for your sake, too. I didn't want you running after me. That would've only hurt you more. I thought... if you hated me, it would be easier for you to move on."
She turned her gaze toward the glistening garden in front of us.
I could only sigh. "I still don't know why you really broke up with me, Aurora," I said quietly.
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Sure, I'd given her another chance. Sure, she'd said she regretted what she'd done before. But what was the real reason?
We walked toward the koi ponds, where lantern lights shimmered across the water like scattered stars.
Aurora leaned against the railing, her reflection wavering beneath her.
"I told you before, didn't I?" she murmured.
"I just did what they wanted me to do. I followed orders from my mother. "
My breath hitched, a lump forming in my throat. What orders? I wanted to ask, but the words stuck. "So it was because of her?" I finally managed.
Nothing made sense. I remembered her mother's words from the day she'd given me the porcelain doll: 'Sloane, take care of this doll, okay? Treat her like my Rory—she's a fragile soul, even if she looks stone-cold.'
Aurora turned to me but said nothing.
"Was it because she didn't want me with you?" I pressed, my voice trembling. "Because I didn't come from a wealthy family? But... they knew about us, Aurora. We visited them so many times. They saw how happy we were together."
Even before we broke up, when we'd visited her mother in the hospital—when her illness had worsened—she'd told me to take care of Aurora because she was happiest when she was with me.
"It's not because they didn't want you for me," Aurora said softly, stepping closer.
She cupped my face, her palms warm against my skin.
"It was... something else. My mother said she didn't want me to break up with you, but she insisted it was for the best. You know how it is in business—you let go of something precious, call it collateral damage, just to prevent something worse from happening. "
I swallowed hard, my lips parting as I stared back at her.
"You grew up in wealth, Ro. Is that how you see it?
Are feelings just part of a transaction for you?
" My voice quivered, but I didn't stop. "Because the way you talk.
.. it sounds like you invested emotions in me, and the moment you thought you were losing your capital, you pulled out.
Declared bankruptcy and walked away. Is that what we were to you? "
She exhaled sharply and leaned back against the railing, elbows braced behind her.
She didn't look at me—just tilted her head toward the dark sky, the lantern light flickering against her features.
"Maybe... maybe it was like a business investment, the way I handled it," she admitted.
When she finally looked at me sideways, a faint, bittersweet smile curved her lips. "But Sol, what I felt for you then... what I still feel now—it's real. Every part of it. I really do love you. Even now."
A knot formed in my throat, my chest tightening. I looked at her—and in her eyes, I saw something flicker. Something hidden. Something she wasn't ready to tell me. And the not-knowing hurt more than any truth could.
?·???°???°???·?
Humming to myself, I opened the oven and pulled out the loaf bread I'd just made. Setting it aside to cool, I reached for a mixing bowl and placed it on the center table. I added softened salted butter and began to beat it with a hand mixer until it turned light and fluffy.
Next, I opened a jar of pumpkin purée, scooped some into the bowl, and added maple syrup, vanilla, and pumpkin pie spice. Once everything was mixed together, I set it aside. I transferred the loaf onto another tray and sliced it into even pieces.
Grabbing a baking dish, I whisked together the eggs, milk, the remaining pumpkin purée, vanilla, cinnamon, and more pumpkin pie spice. Then I set a non-stick skillet on the stove over medium heat, melting a small pat of butter until it sizzled gently.
I dipped each slice of bread into the egg mixture, flipping it to coat both sides before placing it on the hot skillet. The toast sizzled softly, filling the air with the warm, spiced scent of autumn.
That's when I felt something warm wrap around me from behind. I chuckled the moment I heard Aurora's sleepy voice.
"Sloey," she mumbled, her tone thick with sleep.
My free hand rested on hers. "Ro, if you want to sleep more, go do it in bed—not here," I teased, flipping the toast.
Aurora just hummed softly, her face buried in my shoulder as she breathed me in. "You smell so good," she whispered, her lips brushing against the side of my neck.
Heat rushed between my thighs as she did. Clearing my throat, I clicked my tongue. "You really..." I mumbled, trying to focus on the pan.
Once the toast was done, I plated it carefully and set it aside.
"Is that... French toast?" Aurora asked, still clinging to me.
"Uh-huh," I replied with a small smile. "Pumpkin French toast."
"Oh, that sounds amazing," she murmured, finally pulling away. "Want your usual coffee, Sloey?"
The corners of my lips lifted. "Sure," I said, keeping my eyes on the skillet as I cooked another slice. Behind me, I could hear the grinding of beans and the soft hiss of the coffee machine. The smell of fresh espresso filled the kitchen, warm and grounding.
When I finished the last batch, I plated the toasts on the island, scooped a generous dollop of pumpkin butter on top, and drizzled them with maple syrup. Carrying both plates to the dining table, I set one at Aurora's seat and the other in front of mine.
Aurora joined me with two steaming cups.
"Thank you, sweetie," I said as I sat down. "Now, sit, let's enjoy breakfast together."
She smiled, taking the seat across from me.
I took a sip of the flat white she made and couldn't help but hum in approval.
"Still tastes the same," I said, setting the cup down with a small grin.
"It's weird, but this is the first time in a long while I've tasted a flat white like this again. "
After we broke up, I'd stopped drinking flat whites—not because they reminded me of her, but because none ever tasted like the ones she used to make.
Aurora lifted a brow, sipping her own drink. "What do you mean? Don't most cafés serve flat whites?"
Shaking my head, I met her eyes. "They do, but it's not the same. I only like flat whites when you're the one who makes them."
There was something about her version—maybe the balance, or maybe just the care she put into it—that always suited my taste perfectly.
"Smart mouth," she teased, though I caught the faint color rising to her cheeks.
I laughed softly, cutting into my toast. "No, seriously... I've missed your flat whites." I glanced down at my cup, smiling faintly. "There were times I even stopped drinking coffee altogether—because I'd gotten so used to yours."
The day she left me before—it felt like I'd lost the other half of myself.
I'm not exaggerating; that's really how she made me feel when she said she'd only used me for fun.
Like everything I'd built around her—every dream, every ounce of trust—was just a fa?ade for what she truly saw in me.
Aurora caught my gaze and offered a faint smile. "Don't worry. I can make your usual coffee anytime you want."
I felt my cheeks warm. "Great. Then we have a deal," I said, taking another bite of my toast.
For a while, everything felt peaceful—just the two of us sharing a quiet morning, the smell of maple and cinnamon lingering between us. But then my phone rang. I sighed, checked the screen, and answered, standing up from my chair.
"Millie," I greeted, pressing the phone to my ear as I walked toward the glass window.
"Hi! Hey, I hope I'm not disturbing your sleep right now?" she chuckled from the other end.
I clicked my tongue softly, shaking my head even though she couldn't see me. "No, nothing like that. Just having breakfast with Aurora. What's up?"
"Well, I've secured the venue for the company's founding anniversary. And Soeren just closed the agreement with the restaurant that'll handle the catering," she explained.
Humming, I glanced over my shoulder to see Aurora quietly eating, the sunlight catching her hair. Turning back to the window, I smiled. "That's great news. Once everything's finalized, let's send out the invitations to our priority guests."
"Alright, I'll send you the draft soon."
"Thanks, Millie. You're such a big help," I said sincerely. She'd been more than just my secretary—she was my sister-in-law, my confidante when things got rough.
"No worries. You're like my big sister, after all. Besides, I should be the one thanking you for helping Soeren and me," she laughed softly. "Anyway, go on and enjoy your breakfast with your wife. I'll send the email later."
"Alright. Thanks, Millie. Bye."
Ending the call, I turned back to Aurora and set my phone down on the table. "That was Millie. We're finalizing plans for the company's anniversary." I smiled at her. "I want you to come with me, okay? I want you there by my side."
I'd worked myself to exhaustion for years without her. Now that I finally had her back, I wanted everyone to see the reason I kept going. And maybe, just maybe, it would be poetic—seeing Aurora and Margot face to face.
Aurora nodded, smiling faintly. "Of course, my love."
But as she spoke, her fork stopped midair. The color drained from her face. My brows furrowed just as the metal clattered onto her plate.
"Ro, are you—" My words cut off when she pressed one hand against the table, the other clutching her chest, her breathing ragged.
Before I could say anything else, she strode out of the dining hall—fast and without looking back.
"Ro!" I called, rushing after her. She didn't even glance my way, half-walking, half-running down the hallway until she disappeared into our bedroom. I followed close behind, just in time to see her march into the bathroom and slam the door shut.
"Aurora!" I hit the door with my palm, panic rising in my chest. I could still picture her breathing heavily back in the dining room. "Are you alright?!"
I tried to twist the knob, but it was locked. From inside, I heard the faint sound of running water. My pulse quickened. "I'm opening the door!" I shouted, scanning the room for the spare key.
Rushing to the console table, I yanked open the drawer and grabbed it. But just as I slid the key into the lock, I felt resistance—she was trying to stop me.
I banged on the door, chest tightening with each second that passed. "Ro! Aurora! Open this goddamn door!" I yelled, twisting the knob again, but it wouldn't budge.
"Ro!" My voice cracked as I hit the door once more. And then—finally—it gave way.
Aurora stood right in front of me. Pale. Drenched in sweat. Trembling.
"Ro," I breathed, stepping forward to cup her face, scanning her features for any sign of what was wrong.
"You look so pale... so clammy. Did I—did I do something wrong with your toast?
Is it your stomach?" I tried to think if I'd used anything she was allergic to, but I knew her preferences by heart. I'd made it the same way as always.
She looked up at me, eyes distant, before burying her face in my shoulder. Her arms hung weakly at her sides. "Sorry... I didn't mean to make you worry," she whispered, voice small and broken.
I pulled back, my hands trembling as I cupped her face again. My chest tightened at the sight of her unfocused eyes. "I don't know what's happening, but—do you want me to take you to the ER?" I asked, brushing away the sweat gathering at her temple.
She'd been sweating a lot lately. Too much. Something wasn't right.
She forced a faint smile, holding my hands against her cheeks. "I'm... I'm fine," she mumbled, her voice slurring slightly. "I'm sorry..." She blinked a few times as if trying to clear her vision, but then her knees gave out.
"Ro! Oh, God—" I caught her just before she hit the floor, grunting from the sudden weight. Gently, I lifted her and guided her toward the bed, laying her down as carefully as I could. "Aurora, wake up!" I hissed, tapping her cheek, panic clawing at my throat.
She frowned faintly but didn't respond. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I checked her forehead—burning. Her neck—hot to the touch.
"Goddamn it, you're burning up," I muttered, sprinting back into the bathroom. I soaked a towel in cool water, wrung it out, and hurried to her side.
As I wiped her face, I pushed up the sleeves of her cardigan—and froze.
"What...?" I whispered. Fresh bruises marked her skin—dark and uneven. "Where the hell are you getting these?" My voice shook as I traced the edges of the marks, careful not to hurt her. "Are you... being hurt?"
Swallowing hard, I tugged her shirt up, and my stomach twisted. More bruises—on her abdomen this time. My breath caught in my throat. "No..."
Did she get these from fencing practice? Was she overworking herself again?
"Jesus, Ro," I whispered, my voice breaking. "You really love testing your limits, don't you?"
I let out a shaky sigh and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Can you please stop pushing yourself so hard? You're making me worried sick with all these bruises..."