Chapter 16 Aurelia
AURELIA
My dress is beautiful.
It’s a deep green silk that flows like water when I move. It cost more than I spent on clothes in five years living in Ireland, and I hate how good it feels to wear something this elegant again.
I’m standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom at our estate, trying to recognize the woman staring back at me. Hair styled in soft waves. Makeup done professionally by someone Julian hired. Jewelry that once belonged to my mother draped around my neck and wrists.
I look like Aurelia Vance. Not the runaway who dyed her hair black and hid for six years in Barbados and then Ireland. Just Aurelia. Daughter of the Vance family. Sister to Julian Vance, the new head of operations.
The woman I was before the arranged marriage changed everything.
Julian made it clear two weeks ago, when the invitation arrived, that I needed to attend tonight’s gala.
It’s my first major public appearance since returning home.
The family needs to show unity under his leadership, prove we’re moving in a new direction.
Legitimate business, clean operations, and distance from the violence that defined Victor’s reign.
And I’m part of that image. The prodigal daughter who came home. Living proof that Julian keeps his family close and values loyalty.
It’s all performance, sort of like a theater designed to convince New York’s elite that the Vances are respectable now. But I agreed because Julian brought me home and because he’s keeping my sons safe.
Downstairs, I can hear the twins laughing. The sound pulls me away from the mirror and toward the door. I walk down the hall in bare feet, and stop at the top of the staircase.
Finn and Liam are in the main sitting room with Nadia. She’s on the floor with them, her dress bunched carelessly around her knees, while Finn lies flat on his stomach, pushing a small car across the rug, and Liam crouches nearby, arranging cushions into something that looks vaguely intentional.
“It has to go this way,” Liam says, dragging one cushion into place. “That’s the road.”
“No,” Finn says without looking up. “This is the road.” He drives the car straight over Liam’s cushion.
“You can’t do that,” Liam protests. “You’ll crash.”
“I want to crash.”
Nadia makes a thoughtful sound and nudges one of the cushions closer. “What if that’s the mountain,” she says, “and this part is the road around it?”
Finn considers this, then immediately launches the car into the cushion anyway. “See,” he announces. “Crash.”
Liam throws his hands up. “You ruined it.”
“You didn’t say no crashing,” Finn argues.
Nadia laughs, shaking her head. “I definitely should have said no crashing.” She reaches for the car and holds it just out of Finn’s reach. “Again,” she says, “but this time we finish the road first.”
I watch them from the stairs, tears threatening to fill my eyes.
Nadia has been incredible since we arrived. Patient with the boys, kind to me, never once making me feel like an imposition. She plays with Finn and Liam like they’re her own children, reads them stories at bedtime, and listens to their endless questions about New York with genuine interest.
I know the grief her miscarriages have caused in her relationship with my brother.
The way it nearly destroyed their marriage.
I see it sometimes in the way Nadia looks at the twins.
Love mixed with longing, and joy mixed with pain.
She wants children desperately, and here I am with two healthy boys I never planned for.
The universe has a cruel sense of humor.
“Mam!” Finn spots me on the stairs and runs over, Liam following at a slower pace. “You look pretty!”
“Thank you, baby.”
“Where are you going?” Liam asks, studying my dress with the same serious expression he uses for everything.
“I have to go to a party with Uncle Julian.”
“Can we come?”
“Not this time. It’s just for grown-ups.”
Finn’s face falls. “That’s boring.”
“Very boring,” I agree. “But you get to stay here with Nadia, and she promised to let you have ice cream for dessert.”
“Ice cream!” Finn shouts, immediately distracted.
Liam is still looking at me with those green eyes that are too perceptive for a five-year-old. “When will you be back?”
“Late. But I’ll check on you when I get home, okay?”
“Okay.”
Nadia stands and brushes off her dress. “They’ll be fine. We’re going to build the biggest tower this house has ever seen, and then we’re going to knock it down properly.”
“Properly!” Finn echoes, already running back to the blocks.
Liam lingers for a moment longer, then follows his brother.
“You look beautiful,” Nadia says, walking over to me. “That color is perfect on you.”
“Thank you. And thank you for watching them tonight.”
“I love watching them. They’re wonderful boys.” She hesitates, then adds quietly, “Julian has extra security on the estate tonight. There are three men stationed at the gates, with two more inside. The boys will be safe.”
The reassurance helps, but it also reminds me why the security is necessary.
“I should finish getting ready,” I say.
Nadia squeezes my hand once, then returns to the boys.
I go back upstairs and put on my heels, check my makeup one more time, and try to ignore the anxiety churning in my stomach.
It’s just a charity gala. A few hours of smiling and making small talk and playing the role Julian needs me to play. Then I can come home to my sons and pretend tonight never happened.
Julian is waiting in the foyer when I come downstairs. He’s in a tux, looking every bit the legitimate businessman he’s trying to become.
When he sees me, he smiles. “You look good, Aurelia. Like you never left.”
“I feel like an imposter.”
“You’re not. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”
The car is waiting outside. Black, sleek, expensive. Julian helps me in, and we settle into the back seat while the driver pulls away from the estate.
“Nervous?” Julian asks.
“Terrified.”
“You’ll be fine. Just smile, be polite, let people see that you’re happy to be home.”
“What if someone asks where I’ve been?”
“Tell them you were traveling. Needed time away after everything with Victor. Keep it vague.”
“And if Cassian is there?”
Julian’s expression hardens. “He won’t be. The guest list is extremely exclusive, and the Rourkes don’t move in these circles.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know enough. And even if he does somehow show up, you stay away from him. If he approaches you, security will handle it.”
I want to believe him, but I can’t shake the feeling that tonight is going to go wrong.
The venue is a historic building in Midtown, lit up like something out of a fairy tale. Photographers are lined up at the entrance, cameras flashing as guests arrive.
“Ready?” Julian asks.
“No.”
“Too bad. We’re here.”
The driver opens my door, and I step out into the chaos of flashing lights and shouted questions. Julian is beside me immediately, his hand on my elbow, guiding me through the crowd with practiced ease.
We make it inside, and the noise of the photographers fades into the softer hum of conversation and classical music.
The ballroom is massive. Crystal chandeliers, marble floors, hundreds of people in evening wear drinking champagne and pretending to care about whatever charity this event is supposedly supporting.
Julian introduces me to a dozen people whose names I immediately forget. Politicians, business owners, socialites who want to be seen at the right events. Everyone is polite, curious about where I’ve been but too well-mannered to ask directly.
I smile and nod and give vague answers, and the whole time I’m scanning the room.
Looking for him.
Wondering if he’s here.
Wondering if he knows I’m back.