Chapter 24
RORI
A little bit earlier:
I try not to let the emotions overwhelm me as I stare at the items on the counter, but my brain is screaming at me not to do it, this is a mistake, while my gut is reminding me that this is the only way.
Damn them. Damn everyone.
It’s been so long since I’ve had to do this that my hands shake as I pick up the bottle. Get a grip, Aurora.
I drop the bottle back onto the counter, putting my palms on the cool vanity, trying to ground myself. I won’t be Aurora anymore after this, will I? I’ll be Rayea again, and the thought of becoming her after trying to forget about her, it sits like a lead ball in my stomach.
Can I really do this? Can I slip back into that persona and still hold on to the pieces that are truly me? The ones that I finally allowed to develop when I was on my own, in college and trying to piece together a life I never dreamed I’d be able to have.
I lift my head, staring at myself in the mirror.
I’ve scrubbed away my make-up, leaving my face bare, and my bleached blonde hair hangs limply over my shoulder.
Maybe I’m committing them to memory, or maybe it’s just mourning and acceptance, but I can’t stand here and stare at them much longer or I’m going to break down.
I get to work, working like a madwoman to get them finished.
I lose track of time, but when I’m finished, my hair washed and cut, and my new clothes firmly in place, I force myself to look back in the mirror. I bite back the pained whimper as I stare at the familiar woman in front of me who even now still feels like a stranger.
It’s strange standing here like this, though.
Worse, it’s not as unpleasant as I expected.
Maybe that will frighten me, but right now, it’s another shield.
Another way to remind everyone, especially Alonzo when he eventually gets a look at me, that he doesn’t know me.
Aurora O’Brien is who I allowed myself to become to forget the darkness I escaped from for a short time.
Now, it’s time for me to step back, really remember who I am. My purpose. The skills I’ve let become complacent and rusty. The same ones I need to get back up to par in a very short time, or else none of this will matter.
I want to hate her. I want to be so angry and disgusted, but I can’t. Maybe that makes it fucked up, but the woman in front of me, she looks cold, determined, but also older and wiser. I haven’t thought about her in a long time.
When I was eighteen and left, my hair was long, black, and I often wore it up in a messy bun. Mishka often teased me about it when we first were married, but he also told me how much it suited me. A wave of grief hits me but I push it aside.
I have a job to do. The only thing I won’t allow to be changed is my name.
Aurora was the name I chose for myself. It was the name my mother whispered to me on the rare nights that I was allowed to be with her.
A name she read in a book as a child that she had always wanted to call me, but my father refused, naming me himself.
I hate him for that alone. That he took something so small, so precious to the woman he had claimed to love, and crushed it, giving me the name of a woman he admired instead. A woman he used to hurt my mother and push her into compliance.
My fists clench, and my jaw tightens as I stare at myself. No, I will never be Rayea again.
Hades gives a whine of worry, coming over to lick at my clenched hands, nudging them with his nose.
I crouch down, forcing a smile. “It’s okay, baby.
I’m okay.” He whines again, pushing his nose against the side of my head, sniffing at the shortened strands above my ear.
“I know, I probably look funny to you now, don’t I?
Don’t worry, I’m still me.” I kiss the side of his head, my ear earning a lick of thanks, making me laugh softly, before I get back to my feet.
Pity party over. I need to get to work. Exhaustion is closing in, but I still have a lot to learn.
Breaking back into Ilya’s office might be interesting, but I need to look at those plans again.
There was something there. Something I’m missing.
Everything looked the same, but my gut is telling me to look again. This time without interruption.
A loud crash sounds, and I grab the guns off the counter before Hades and I head for the door. I give him a low command to be on alert before I open it. I move fast but on silent feet, stopping only when I realize what I’m seeing.
Alonzo has Simeon pinned to the wall near the door, but I can’t hear what he’s saying, though I have to imagine it’s a threat of some kind. My heart speeds up, especially when I hear him hiss, “Get in my way, and I’ll kill you. She. Is. Mine.”
Damn it. I can’t allow myself to be sidetracked by this man.
Simeon might try to say something back, but I’m not about to deal with some stupid macho fight.
Especially one where Ilya is going to come after my ass if something happens to his cash cow.
I don’t bother to listen to his reply, moving swiftly to get close to them both.
Neither of them notices me.
I press my gun against the middle of Alonzo’s back—damn his tall ass—and one against Simeon’s temple in case he gets any wise ideas. “Alonzo, you’re going to let him go, now.”
I try not to react to his stare, instead focusing on Simeon, who turns around, brushing himself and swiping his hand under his bleeding nose.
When his gaze finally lands on me, he freezes, his eyes moving over me in a slow perusal.
I arch a brow when his eyes finally connect with mine.
“Holy shit,” he blurts out. “You look so…hot, solnyshko.”
I barely control my jolt at the nickname that Mishka used to call me.
It’s been so long since I’ve heard it, and the stab of pain is acute.
It’s odd to hear Simeon use that term, but I remember him using it a couple times when he was around Mishka.
At the time it was taunting, but now, the tone just makes me uncomfortable.
Alonzo lets out a low sound that sounds suspiciously like a growl, but I ignore it. “What are you doing in my room, Simeon?”
He huffs, rubbing at his still bleeding nose.
“Damn it, this suit is one of my favorites.” He shoots Alonzo a furious glare, before looking back at me.
“What do you think? I came to talk to you. I know that Ilya and you have this hair-brained idea how to do this plan, but I know it’s insane.
You’re going to end up dead. Mine is at least smart, and I think you know it. ”
“The one where you expect me to marry you.” I shoot Alonzo a warning look when he growls again, but he ignores me, shooting daggers at Simeon.
“Well, yeah. I mean, come on, you can’t say that you won’t enjoy being married to me. We might not have gotten along in the past, but we’re older now, and once I take over for my father, we’ll be unstoppable. And, I mean, you’re hot, so it’s not like it’s going to be hard to fuck you…ughhhhhhhh.”
The groan of pain comes from Simeon as Alonzo sucker punches him in the jaw. He drops to the floor and curls in on himself.
“Damn it, Alonzo.” I give him an exasperated stare. He turns to me, unrepentant, bruises already forming on his jaw from where I have to assume Simeon got in a couple of lucky shots.
His eyes blaze as he stares at me. Desire burns, along with a healthy dose of jealousy and determination. My own need starts to burn, and I hate it. Why am I turned on by this machismo display? Why am I allowing myself to even stand here and not cut him down a few pegs?
Damn it, Aurora, get a fucking grip. This man broke your heart and is acting like a jealous asshole. He doesn’t deserve anything else from you.
The little pep talk steadies me, and I look away from him, glaring down at the still huddled Simeon. Seriously? “Get your ass up, Simeon,” I order.
“Fucker can’t even take a punch without whining and you want to marry this?” Alonzo sneers.
“I think you fractured my fucking jaw, you son of a bitch,” Simeon moans, but he drags himself to his feet, his hand cupping his jaw.
His eyes blaze angrily, the need for revenge directed squarely at Alonzo.
Then his eyes cut to mine and he demands, “This is what you’re going to allow to happen to your fiancé? You’re not going to even defend me?”
Me? Defend him? The facade he was trying to portray earlier when we first saw each other is gone and in its place is the spoiled brat that I remember.
Disgust wars, but I manage not to let it show.
I wouldn’t put it past the asshole to go and whine to Ilya, or abandon the plan entirely and go to his father, hoping to earn some kind of favor for bringing me back in the first place.
“Call her that again, and you’re going to be eating through a fucking straw, cocksucker,” Alonzo threatens, stepping forward menacingly.
Simeon steps back, slamming his shoulder into the wall, and yelping in pain. Jesus Christ, at this rate I’m going to need to tell Ilya to lock him up for his own good. He’s going to be damn useless.
“Damn it, Rayea, do something,” Simeon demands. “Put your dog back on his leash or something.”
I look down at Hades in amusement, knowing full well that Simeon isn’t talking about the only male in my life that I trust wholeheartedly. Hell, even Hades is looking at Simeon with a dog version of pity.
“Alonzo, don’t hit him again,” I sigh, done with this bullshit. Alonzo stares at me, but I give him a pointed stare. “He’s not worth the damage to your hands.”
Alonzo smirks, and Simeon glares at me angrily. “Still as much of a bitch as ever, I see.”
My smile is cold, sharp, and he pales. “I’m so much more than I was at eighteen, Simeon, and I suggest you remember that. Now, this is what you’re going to do. You are going back to your room, and you are going to stay there and out of my way until I decide what I’m going to do with you.”
“You’re not in charge—”
“Shut the fuck up or I’ll hit you again,” Alonzo warns. Simeon must realize how serious Alonzo is because he keeps his mouth shut, but he still glares at me angrily.
Simeon never was one that liked to be talked down to or made to feel inferior. Timur was clear that he wanted his eldest son to always feel in charge.
Looks like that’s about to backfire on him spectacularly.
I pin Simeon with a look that tells him to shut the fuck up before he ends up dead, and he pales further. I swear I see him start to tremble slightly, and I nearly roll my eyes. And this asshole thinks I’d marry him? I’d kill him before we even got to the altar.
“As I was saying. You are going back to your room. Have Ilya call one of his doctors for you, I don’t care, but you are going to stay the fuck out of my room, and out of my way unless you want to end up sporting a few new scars and less fingers before this is over.
As for this marriage bullshit, I’m not marrying anyone. ”
He opens his mouth to argue, but snaps it shut when I take a menacing step toward him. He scurries out of the room, flinging the door open so hard it bounces off the wall, and I see Oleg and Zakhar standing there, clearly eavesdropping. Just great.
Zakhar takes one look at Simeon and snickers. “Dude, you really thought you were going to take charge of a woman like that? Did that fucker’s fists knock a few screws loose?” Simeon glares angrily at him and shoves past him, storming down the hallway.
I look at Oleg. “If you haven’t bugged his room, get it done right away. Something’s off with him. He’s either playing both sides to get what he wants, or he’s going to be pissed enough at me to try something stupid.”
Oleg frowns, but he must figure my words have merit because he’s following Simeon almost instantly.
Zakhar leans in my doorway, looking perfectly content as he takes me in.
He gives a low whistle of appreciation. “Damn, milaya, you clean up nice in anything you wear, don’t you?
I’m partial to longer hair myself, but on you, short is fucking sexy.
Still enough to grab on to.” He winks at me, and I almost smile.
He’s ridiculous. And has a death wish if the sound from Alonzo is anything to go by.
“I’m going to kill you,” Alonzo seethes, already moving toward him.
“Alonzo,” I snap irritated. “Cut out the macho bullshit or it’ll be me putting you on your ass. Again.”
That stops him, but the look he gives me is downright wicked as he says, “Before or after you put your pussy in my face again?”
I glare at him, while Zakhar sputters out a laugh. “Well, I guess that answers the question of if you’re over him.” He gives a dramatic sigh. “A man knows when he’s been beaten, but just know that I’ll always be happy to heal your broken heart when he fucks up again, milaya.”
Alonzo gives me a heated stare, and I’m not touching any of this right now. Not when I want to bust some balls and let Hades have his pick of anything left over.
I want to scream at Zakhar that I’m over Alonzo, but instead, I stalk to the door and shove him out of my way. He stumbles back at the force, but he still laughs and grins at me. “Fuck off. Where’s Ilya?”
“Oh, you’re going after my brother now, huh? I mean, I get it, but you should know that he’s kind of in this thing with—”
Instead of letting him finish that sentence, I give a sharp command to Hades, and Zakhar curses, laughter cut off when Hades hits him square in the knees, sending him toppling to the floor, and giving a warning growl.
I hear Alonzo let out a mocking laugh. I don’t even bother looking back at him as I stalk away. I need space, and I need to find Ilya or break into his office to get back to figuring out what I’m missing.
Being around Alonzo right now is a bad idea. I’m feeling far too vulnerable, and I don’t trust myself right now to not do or say something I’m going to regret later.
Alonzo Cattaneo acting like a caveman over me is everything I would have dreamed of happening just a few weeks ago. Now, it pisses me off because it’s a reminder of what could have been and what I’ll never have.
Just another reason to hate my father and Timur Belov even more. And while I don’t hate him, it’s another reason to push Alonzo as far away as possible.