Chapter 87
My gaze drifted to Dione, her little palms pressed against the hotel window, her breath fogging the glass as she whispered in awe at the fireworks outside. Heaving a soft sigh, I slid my feet into my slippers, set my cup on the center table, and walked toward her.
Standing by her side, I rested a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want to go out, sweetie? We can watch the fireworks from the terrace. You want that?"
Dione looked up at me with wide eyes. "Can we, Mommy?"
I smiled and nodded. "Go on, tell your pops we're heading to the terrace."
She sprinted toward the bedroom, excitement radiating from her. I exhaled slowly, turning my attention to the glittering bursts of color outside. "Another month is coming," I whispered, placing a hand on my growing bump.
Peeking into the bedroom, I smiled at the sight of Aurora sitting on the edge of the bed, Dione beside her with both arms snug around her pops.
"Think you can manage going out?" I asked gently. "I know it's cold, but... I want Dione to see the fireworks from the terrace."
Aurora smiled and hummed softly.
"I can manage. Don't worry too much about me.
" She leaned forward, resting her head against my bump, arms circling around me.
I stroked her hair quietly. "Besides," she added, glancing up at me with a playful look, "I'm not letting the two of you go without me.
Who knows what could happen when I'm not around, right? "
I clicked my tongue and shook my head, but the smile stayed. Even sick, Aurora was protective as ever. She still refused to let me go out alone—if not her, she'd send the driver and at least one housekeeper to accompany me. That was just her.
"Alright then," I said softly. "We should go. I think other guests are already there—the terrace banquet's open."
She nodded, releasing me and turning to Dione. "Sweetie, go grab your coat."
Dione bounded out of the room instantly, leaving the two of us alone. Aurora grabbed our coats from the rack, draping mine gently over my shoulders.
"Thank you, honey," I murmured as I slipped my arms through the sleeves.
She put on her own coat and bonnet before I helped adjust them properly. Aurora leaned in, brushing her lips quickly against mine.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I cleared my throat and intertwined my fingers with hers. When we stepped out, Dione was already waiting eagerly in the hall.
"Come on, sweetheart," I urged, taking her hand as we headed toward the open terrace.
We stepped outside, weaving through the gathering crowd until Dione pointed excitedly.
"Right there, Mommy!" She let go of my hand and jogged toward the spot she chose.
"This kid," I muttered with a small sigh, though the fondness in my voice was obvious.
Aurora chuckled and tugged me close. "Let her be. She's just heading to the terrace." Her hand rubbed slow circles along my waist as we followed.
"It's beautiful..." Dione breathed, reaching for my hand as I joined her.
Aurora stood behind me, her arms wrapping protectively around my bump, her chin resting gently on the top of my head.
"It's getting colder," she whispered, pressing herself closer to me, as if trying to shield me—and the baby—from the night air, even though she was the one trembling slightly.
I hummed, letting my free hand brush against hers. The fireworks roared overhead, mingling with the chatter of guests and music from the terrace. People gathered, counting down the seconds.
"Trois! Deux! Un!"
The sky lit up in brilliant bursts. Dione squealed, jumping with delight as fireworks painted the night. "Happy New Year!"
"A new year, indeed, my little moon," Aurora whispered, leaning down to kiss Dione on the temple.
I turned to look at Aurora. When our eyes met, she straightened, extending her arms toward me. I smiled and leaned into her embrace, hugging her gently. She laughed softly, pressing a kiss atop my head. "Happy New Year, my sun," she whispered against my ear.
A soft hum escaped me as I buried my face in her chest. "Happy New Year, my dawn."
Aurora's hug tightened, and she drew a deep, steadying breath. Dione giggled, throwing her arms around both of us.
"Happy New Year, guys!"
Thalia's cheerful voice cut through our moment. Aurora pulled back, turning to see her cousin approaching. Thalia pressed a peck on both our cheeks before kneeling to pat Dione's head. "Happy New Year, kiddo."
Straightening, she glanced at Aurora. "Mind if I snag your daughter for a bit?"
Aurora and I exchanged a look. I smiled at Thalia. "No worries," I said, lowering myself to Dione's level. "Dione, sweetie, behave, okay?"
Dione nodded, beaming, and took Thalia's hand. Both of them waved before walking away.
Aurora let out a quiet sigh. "Another year," she murmured, moving to lean against the terrace railing.
I stepped close, sliding myself between her arms. "Another year," I echoed, wrapping my arms around her neck. My hand smoothed over her bonnet and scarf, trembling slightly despite my best efforts.
"What's wrong?" she asked softly, noticing the subtle shake.
I blinked rapidly, swallowing hard. "Just... proud of you," I admitted, my voice betraying the lump in my throat. "Proud of you... for fighting so hard." I cupped her cheeks, gazing into her eyes.
A knot tightened in my chest. Pregnancy hormones, fear, relief—I couldn't separate them.
Aurora leaned closer, pulling me into her arms, cocooning us both inside her overcoat.
She closed the gap between us, kissing me deeply.
I shut my eyes, wrapping her tighter, letting the world melt away.
I didn't care who might see us. This was her, the woman I married. She owned my heart in this lifetime and every universe to come.
"I love you," Aurora whispered between kisses, cupping my cheeks.
"I love you more," I gasped, clutching her as she pulled me even closer. Our breathing synchronized as we slowly parted, flushed and smiling, locked in each other's gaze.
My laughter mingled with hers as she held my hands, swaying us gently like children dancing under the fireworks. She spun me around, pressing my back to hers, our fingers entwined. Together, we watched the glittering Monaco skyline, soaking in the New Year air.
"My arms feel like they were made for holding you, Sloey," she whispered after a moment.
I hummed in agreement. "Perfectly made just for me."
We stayed that way, wrapped in each other, the breeze of midnight brushing over us. The hotel party buzzed behind us, but it was distant, muted by the closeness we shared. My throat went dry, and I released her hand reluctantly. "I'm kind of thirsty. I'll go get—"
"I'll get it," Aurora interjected, raising her brow. She smiled, cupping my cheeks and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. "Stay here. I'll be right back."
Before I could even react, Aurora slipped away, weaving effortlessly through the crowd.
"She's unusually energetic today," I murmured with a faint smile, leaning back against the railing.
I watched the guests mingling below, returning their smiles when they noticed me.
Aurora and I had been doing so well lately. We barely fought, and honestly, there was nothing left worth fighting about. Cutting off the wrong people had given us peace we didn't know we were starving for.
A sudden explosion cracked through the air—louder, sharper than fireworks. My body jolted as screams rippled across the terrace. Guests broke into chaos, running from the open area in a frantic wave.
"What's going on?" I whispered, instinctively covering my bump as I stepped inward. People slammed into me while fleeing, but I held my ground.
"Ro!" I called out, ready to run after her—until I froze.
Someone stood just a few feet away. A figure in full protective gear, helmet hiding the face, gloves covering every bit of exposed skin. No identifying features. And a gun—pointed directly at me.
My feet moved back, almost making me stumble. "No," I whispered, swallowing hard.
"Sol!" Aurora's voice cut through the chaos.
I turned toward the sound and saw her running—then my gaze snapped back to the gunman standing right in front of me. The gun stayed trained on my chest.
"Ro... no, don't." The words tried to claw their way out, but my voice wouldn't budge. My heart pounded so violently it drowned out everything else. Aurora kept calling my name, but I couldn't move.
One second, the gun was aimed at me. The next, arms yanked me backward into a shield of warmth.
A deafening crack split the air.
"Fuck!" Aurora's voice snapped me back into myself.
My eyes widened. She was the one holding me. Another shot rang out, and her body jerked against mine.
"Ro!" I gasped as the truth hit me.
I cupped her face, my gaze flicking to the gunman sprinting away while security chased him. My hands shook violently as I tore open her overcoat—and my chest caved in at the sight of blood soaking through her white cashmere, spreading too fast, too much.
"Ro!" I screamed as she collapsed. I caught her, dragging her into my arms as I pressed my hand against her wound. "No, no, no. Ro, stay with me. Stay with me!" Tears blurred everything as she coughed blood, her breathing ragged and wet.
"Somebody, please call an ambulance!" I shouted, even though my voice cracked with pain.
Aurora let out a choked laugh, eyes rimmed red as blood stained her lips. "It... hurts," she whispered, the words slurring as another cough wracked her body.
I pressed my forehead against hers, holding her as tightly as I could. "Ro, stay with me. Please don't—" My voice broke, collapsing into a sob. "The ambulance is coming. Okay? Just stay. Please."
People were crying, shouting for help, but everything blurred into background noise. All I felt was her blood against my hand, hot and terrifying, as I cradled her closer.
Aurora blinked slowly, her gaze finding me. "I'm so glad..." She gasped again before coughing blood. "I got to marry you."
The words shattered something inside me. I could lose her any moment—but not like this. Not like this.
Her trembling hand reached for my face, fingertips brushing away my tears. "I love you," she murmured, voice weak and slurred. "I... love you, Sol."
My shoulders shook. "No. No, please," I whispered. "Don't talk like you're leaving me. Honey... please."
She groaned softly, coughing again. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "For hurting you. For leaving." Her hand slid down my shoulder, clutching my coat with whatever strength she had left. "I'm sorry..."
I shook my head hard and pulled her closer, resting my chin against her forehead. "Ro, please. Stay. Don't leave me."
Tears streamed down my face as I looked around, desperate. In my peripheral vision, I saw Dione standing frozen for a second before she rushed toward us.
"Pops!" she cried, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Thalia came running with Aurora's father right behind her.
"No, no," I choked out. "Sweetie, just—stay back," I managed, gasping as Aurora's weight grew heavier in my arms.
Dione sobbed and grabbed Aurora's arm. "Pops, wake up!"
"Rory!" her father fell to his knees beside us, cupping her face with shaking hands. "Rory! Wake up, papa's here!"
Aurora didn't respond.
I pressed my hand harder against her wound, sobbing uncontrollably. "Ro, please... don't do this. Don't..."
Her hand slipped from mine. Her body grew heavy.
The sirens finally reached us. But Aurora... Aurora was slipping away before they ever arrived.
**
Hours stretched on, and I couldn't hold myself together.
I paced back and forth in front of the operating room, the red SURGERY ON-GOING light burning into my skull.
My hands trembled. My coat was stiff with my wife's blood.
Everything blurred at the edges, and all I wanted was to tear open the doors and stay beside her.
Aurora had barely been conscious when we arrived. Now, she was still fighting for her life somewhere behind those doors.
"Sloane." Thalia caught my shoulders, halting my restless steps. "Sit down. You're pregnant—you shouldn't be pacing like this. Come on." She gently guided me to the bench.
I sank down, lowering my head. Soeren and Millie had taken Dione home for now. I hadn't even had the strength to say goodbye to her.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears slipping down my cheeks. "I'm so sorry. It's my fault." My blood-stained hands smeared red across my face as I wiped at my eyes. "It was supposed to be me. I should've been the one shot."
Thalia sighed and cupped my cheeks.
"If Rory saw you like this, do you think she'd want you blaming yourself?
" Her smile wavered, her own eyes rimmed red.
"You know her better than anyone. She'd throw herself in front of a bullet for the people she loves.
She did it for you because she wanted you safe. "
She lowered her hands. "And blaming yourself won't fix anything. You didn't ask for this. You didn't want to be targeted. None of this is your fault. All we can do now is wait."
I had no answer—just a hollow ache and the choking fear climbing my throat. I knew, someday, Aurora's illness might take her from me. But not like this. Not suddenly. Not violently.
A tight knot formed in my chest as I stared at the glowing red light. I tried to think positively, tried to breathe, but the thought kept returning: Any moment... I could lose her.
I clasped my shaking hands together and shut my eyes.
"Please... please save my wife. Please let her stay with me a little longer.
" My voice cracked, too small in the cavern of the hallway.
Seeing her in my arms, bleeding—knowing the gunshot meant for me—was a wound I couldn't reach to close.
Time blurred. I lost track of the hours until the operating room doors finally opened. Thalia, Aurora's father, and I stood at once as the doctor approached.
"She lost a significant amount of blood during the operation," the doctor began.
"We're transferring her to the ICU. She's unconscious, but she should regain consciousness soon.
She's out of immediate danger from the gunshot wounds, but we'll need to monitor her closely for infection.
Her immune system is already compromised by her leukemia, so complications are a concern.
Once she stabilizes, we may need to transfer her back to BioSynthix for specialized monitoring. "
Something loosened inside my chest—a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding for hours.
"Thank you," I whispered, turning toward the stretcher as they wheeled her out. "Thank you for fighting."
The hospital room smelled faintly of antiseptic and iron, that sharp sterility clinging to the back of my throat. Machines hummed in uneven rhythms, like a cruel imitation of Aurora's fragile breaths.
I sat at her bedside, hands fidgeting against my knees, watching her chest rise and fall—too shallow, too brittle. Each breath sounded like paper tearing.
"Don't look at me like that," she rasped suddenly, making me jolt.
She'd regained consciousness only a day after surgery—something the doctors had called a miracle, given her condition.
I swallowed hard, eyes locking onto her face. Her lips were cracked at the corners. Her voice, once warm and commanding, had withered into something frail, aged.
"You're staring like I'm already gone," she whispered.
"You're not gone. You're here with me." I took her hand gently, blinking away the heat in my eyes.
She smiled faintly, a bitter curve of her mouth. "For now." She shifted, wincing as the IV pulled against her thin arm. "It's worse, isn't it? You don't have to say it. I can feel it myself."
I wanted to deny it—to protect her from the truth—but I couldn't lie to her face.
Her bruises had begun to blossom too easily.
Her veins collapsed under needles. Her strength slipped faster than any of us could catch.
Instead of answering, I leaned down and rested my forehead against the back of her hand.
Her skin was cold, even beneath the heavy blanket.
"I don't care how bad it is," I whispered. "I'll stay. I'll carry it with you, Ro."
She exhaled softly, eyes fluttering shut. Her fingers twitched weakly, as if she wanted to stroke my hair but didn't have the strength.
We were supposed to spend New Year's with our family. Instead, we were here—her body weakened by the gunshots, her transfer to BioSynthix still pending, each hour pushing her further into pain.
When her eyes opened again, they were hazy but sharp enough to pin me in place.
"Don't let them make me a saint when I'm gone."
Her words knocked the breath out of me. "Ro—"
"I mean it," she said, voice cracking. "They'll say I was brave, beautiful, tragic. But don't you dare forget I was cruel to you. That I ruined you as much as I loved you. Promise me, Sloey."
My throat tightened painfully. "I won't let anyone rewrite you," I whispered. "I won't let them erase the truth of who you are."
Her expression softened, tears gathering at her lashes. "Good. Because I want you to remember everything. Even this. Especially this."
I leaned forward and kissed her temple. "Then I'll remember until it destroys me."
She gave a breathy laugh. "That's what love does, isn't it?"
Her gaze locked with mine—once so sharp, now hollowed by exhaustion.
"Do you think I don't know?" she continued, voice thin. "Every day, I feel it chewing through me. My blood, my marrow, my breath. You think you can pretend, but I feel it. I feel myself rotting from the inside."
I broke, the sobs tearing raw at my throat as I clasped her hands.
"Ro... let me carry it with you. Please.
If you're drowning, I'll drown too. Just don't shut me out.
Honey, please." I kissed her knuckles. "You promised you'd fight for us.
I still need you. Dione needs her pops. Our baby needs you. "
The silence that followed suffocated me. Aurora's chest rose and fell in uneven, painful intervals.
"You're already drowning, Sol," she whispered. "I'm pulling you under with me. And that's what hurts the most."
"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "Just... please. A little bit longer. Please, honey?"
"Sloey." Her hand pressed weakly against my chest, and I swallowed hard. "Don't lie to me, okay? Don't tell me everything's going to be fine when we both know it's already at its worst—especially with the possibility of complications after the surgery."
My throat locked. I sniffed, shutting my eyes as I forced a steady breath. When I opened them again, I reached out and cupped her cheek gently. "Then tell me what to say."
Aurora turned her face away, and her tears shone along the sharp hollow of her cheekbones. "Say you'll hate me when I'm gone. That you'll curse me. At least then I'll know you'll keep me with you in some form."
I leaned forward and pressed my lips to her temple. "I can't hate you, Ro. I'll never be able to. You know that."
She coughed—a deep, ragged sound that shook her whole chest and left a thin smear of blood at the corner of her mouth.
My trembling fingers wiped it away. "Sloey.
.." her hand curled weakly around my wrist, "you.
.. you should go," she whispered. "Don't watch me like this.
Don't let this be how you remember me. Please. .."
"Ro," I breathed, voice cracking open, "I'm here.
I'm not leaving you alone." I shook my head furiously, tears sliding hot and relentless down my cheeks.
"Don't you dare push me away now. I will remember everything—your cruelty, your brilliance, your laughter, your rage.
All of it. All of you. Even this. Because it's real. Because it's you."
Aurora looked up at me, a faint smile lifting her lips as her hand threaded weakly through my hair. "You're still stubborn. You don't have to keep stressing yourself over me, Sloey. You're pregnant."
"I've always been stubborn," I choked out, squeezing her hand tighter.
I wanted to fight for her.
I wanted to tear the pain out of her body and put it into mine.
If I could have traded places—if I could've handed over my life for hers—I would've done it without hesitation.
If there was even the smallest chance to save her, even at the cost of my own life, I wouldn't have thought twice.