Chapter 14
AURORA
"Okay, don't freak out, but we're staging an intervention."
Chloe's face fills my phone screen, but she's not alone. Tiana's there, and they're both sitting in what looks like Chloe's apartment, a whiteboard behind them covered in notes.
"What—"
"An intervention," Chloe repeats. "Because you've been radio silent for two days, which means either you're dead or something major happened."
"We made a list," Tiana adds, holding up a notebook. "Of possible scenarios. Ranked by probability."
Despite everything, I almost laugh. "You made a list?"
"Number one: You eloped with silver fox and are currently on a beach somewhere."
"I didn't elope."
"Number two: Leo did something horrible, and you murdered him."
"I didn't murder anyone."
"Number three…" Tiana checks her notes. "Something incredibly complicated happened involving both Leo and Axel, and you're trapped in the middle of it."
I go quiet.
"Oh shit," Chloe breathes. "It's number three, isn't it?"
"Yeah, or I think it is."
They lean forward simultaneously.
"Spill. Now."
I take a breath. "Axel told my father he wants to break off my engagement to Leo."
Chloe drops her coffee mug. Tiana just stares.
"And Leo says he doesn't want to break it off. And my father's losing his mind trying to figure out what the hell happened between them. And they've been locked in Dad's office arguing, and no one will tell me anything."
"Wait, wait, wait." Chloe's picking up her mug, wiping coffee off her desk. "Axel wants to END the engagement?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I DON'T KNOW! That's the problem!" My voice rises. "He won't see me. Won't talk to me. He's only talking to my father, and Dad won't tell me what they're discussing. I'm just—I'm sitting in this house listening to them shout through walls."
"What's Leo doing?" Tiana asks.
"Drinking. Muttering about his rights. Getting angrier by the hour." I press my hands to my face. "The tension in this house is insane. Security's been doubled. Everyone's on edge. And I'm just—I'm in the dark about my own life."
"This is number three, but like number three on steroids," Chloe mutters.
"Do you think Axel told your father?" Tiana's voice is careful. "About the baby?"
"I don't know. Maybe? But if he did, Dad would've confronted me by now. He would've—" I stop. "I have no idea what's happening, and I feel like I'm losing my mind."
"We're coming there," Chloe says immediately.
"No."
"Aurora—"
"Not yet. Please. With everything so unstable, with the security situation—" I shake my head. "Just give me a few days. Let this settle."
"You promise you're safe?" Tiana's eyes are worried.
"Physically, yes. Emotionally?" I laugh bitterly. "I'm a mess."
"We love you," they say in unison.
"I know. I love you too."
After we hang up, the silence in my room feels heavier.
What is Axel doing? And why won't anyone tell me?
Dinner that night is a nightmare.
The dining room feels like a battlefield before the war starts. Dad's at the head of the table, jaw tight, fingers drumming against the wood. Axel's to his right, staring at his untouched plate. Leo's across from me, already drunk, wine glass clutched like a lifeline.
I'm at the end, watching all of them, fury building with every second of loaded silence.
"This is ridiculous," I say.
Everyone looks up.
"Aurora—" Dad starts.
"No. No more 'Aurora, stay out of it' or 'Aurora, we'll handle this.'" I stand, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. "What the fuck is happening?"
"Watch your language," Dad warns.
"I don't care about my language! For two days, the three of you have been locked in that office. Two days of shouting and arguments and security increases, and no one will tell me anything!"
Leo laughs—a drunk, bitter sound. Mutters something about "my right" and "fight for what’s mine."
I ignore the drunk bastard and focus on Axel and Dad.
"I'm the one this is about, aren't I? My engagement. My future. My life." My hands are shaking. "But somehow I'm the only person who doesn't get to know what's being decided about me."
"Aurora, this is complicated—" Axel's voice is rough.
"Then, uncomplicate it! Tell me what's going on!"
"We're trying to figure out the best way to—"
"The best way to what? Break off my engagement? Keep it? Rearrange my life without asking me?" My voice cracks. "Do you even see me as a person? Or am I just a piece on a chessboard that you move around whenever it's convenient?"
Guilt flashes across both their faces.
"It's not like that," Dad says quietly.
"Isn't it? First, you tell me I'm getting married—no warning, no discussion.
Now you're telling me what, that maybe I'm not?
That plans have changed again?" I'm shaking harder now.
"But God forbid you actually explain anything to me.
God forbid you treat me like an adult who deserves to know what's happening in her own—"
The window explodes.
Glass detonates inward like a bomb, and I don't understand what's happening—why is there glass flying, why is Dad diving under the table, screaming words at me and crawling towards me in panic, why is—
Gunfire.
Oh God.
Oh God oh God oh God—
The sound is deafening. Rapid cracks that make my ears ring, make my whole body freeze.
Not again. Please not again.
"GET DOWN!" I finally hear Dad's screaming.
But I can't move. Can't think. Can't do anything except stand there while bullets tear through the dining room, shredding curtains and splintering wood and—
Mom. Mom screaming. Gunshots. Blood spreading across white carpet—
Someone hits me from the side.
Axel.
We go down hard, his body covering mine, crushing me into the floor. His weight knocks the air from my lungs.
"Don't move," he snarls in my ear. "Don't fucking move, Aurora."
More gunfire. So much gunfire. The chandelier above us explodes, raining crystal.
I'm eight years old again. Hiding under the dining room table. Watching men in masks shoot my mother. Watching her fall. Watching the blood.
So much blood…
"Viktor!" Axel's shouting. "STATUS!"
"Volkov's men!" Viktor's voice from somewhere. "East and south perimeters! At least fifteen!"
"Aurora." Dad's crawling toward us through broken glass. "Is she—"
"She's fine. I've got her." Axel's hands are on my face, forcing me to look at him. "Hey. Stay with me. Don't go wherever you're going. Stay here."
But I can't. I'm not here. I'm eight years old, and my mother's dying, and I can't help her, can't save her, can only hide like a coward.
"We need to move her," Axel says to Dad. "Safe room. Now."
"I'll cover you." Dad's pulling a gun from somewhere. When did he get a gun? "GO!"
Axel hauls me up. My legs don't work. Don't want to hold me.
"Move, Aurora. You have to move."
He's half-carrying, half-dragging me. We're in the hallway. More gunfire behind us, our men returning fire, shouting orders in Russian and Italian.
A man rounds the corner ahead of us.
Not one of ours.
I see the black mask first, then the tactical gear, then the assault rifle coming up to aim directly at my chest. Everything slows down, I can see his finger tightening on the trigger, can see Axel's hand moving—
Axel shoves me behind him so hard I stumble, his other hand already pulling his weapon from the holster at his back. The movement is fluid, practiced, like he's done it a thousand times.
Two shots crack through the hallway.
The masked man drops like his strings were cut, weapon clattering to the floor beside him. There's blood spreading beneath his body, dark against the marble.
"Move!" Axel barks, already pulling me forward.
We keep running, stepping over the body. I try not to look but I see it anyway, the two holes in his chest, perfectly placed. Kill shots.
Axel just killed a man like it was nothing.
We're almost to the end of the hallway when another attacker appears from the side corridor. This one's faster, already firing. Axel spins, puts himself between me and the bullets, and returns fire in the same motion.
The man stumbles backward from the impact but doesn't go down. His vest must have caught the rounds. He's raising his gun again, adjusting his aim toward me.
Axel's on him before I can scream.
He closes the distance in three strides, knocking the gun aside with one hand. I watch, can't look away, can't even blink, as Axel grabs the man's arm and twists. The crack of breaking bone is so loud it echoes off the walls. The man screams.
Axel doesn't stop. He rips the weapon from the man's broken grip and swings it like a club, connecting with his skull with a wet, horrible thud. Once. Twice. The man's knees buckle.
The third hit drops him completely.
Oh God. Oh God, he's so fast, so brutal, he didn't hesitate, didn't even pause.
"Come on." Axel's back, grabbing my hand, pulling. There's blood on his knuckles now, joining the blood already on his shirt.
We're running again. My lungs are burning, each breath painful. My legs are shaking so hard I can barely keep my feet under me, but Axel's grip is iron, dragging me forward even when I stumble.
There is movement ahead, and a third man steps out from behind a marble column.
This one's different. Faster. Smarter. More trained.
He doesn't waste time going for Axel. Doesn't try to shoot. He goes straight for the weakness—me.
He lunges, grabs my arm, and yanks me backward so hard I feel something pop in my shoulder. I scream, more from shock than pain, and then I'm being used as a human shield, his arm locked around my throat.
"Drop it," he snarls at Axel in accented English. "Drop the gun, or I snap her neck."
Axel turns.
And the man I've known, controlled, measured, always in command of himself, completely disappears.
What's left is something feral. Something that makes my blood run cold, even though I know it's on my side.
His eyes go black. Empty of everything except pure rage.
"Let. Her. Go." Each word is bitten off, deadly quiet.
"I said drop the—"
Axel moves.