Chapter 16
Aurelia
The helicopter's rotors thrummed steadily as we cut through the sky, the vast expanse of the Pacific below giving way to the distant outline of the mainland.
I sat beside Keith, the leather seats cool against my skin, my hand resting in his as he absently traced circles on my palm with his thumb.
It was the day of his father's birthday.
He'd arranged this helicopter back to New York, whisking me away from Elysian Haven like it was nothing.
The island had been our bubble, a place where work and passion blurred into something intoxicating.
But now we were heading into his world, the real one, and a flutter of nerves danced in my stomach.
Keith looked relaxed in his casual button-down and slacks, his hair slightly tousled from the wind as we'd boarded, but I could sense the undercurrent of tension in him too.
The way his jaw tightened when he mentioned the party.
"You okay?" he asked, leaning closer, his voice barely audible over the engine's hum. His eyes searched mine, that piercing gaze that always made my heart skip.
I nodded, squeezing his hand. "Just... excited. And a little nervous."
He smiled, that dimple appearing in his beard. "They'll love you. And if they don't, well, I don't care. You're with me. That's what matters."
Keith's thumb paused on my palm, his expression turning serious. "Aurelia, you're brilliant. Just be yourself. Besides, it's not about impressing him. It's about us."
Us. The word sent a warm thrill through me.
In the short time we'd known each other, things had moved fast. From stolen moments by the pool to shared secrets in his hidden cave, where after our passionate encounter, he'd asked me to be his date for this event, and I'd agreed without hesitation.
It felt right, like stepping into a new chapter.
We landed smoothly on a private helipad atop a building, the wind whipping my hair as we stepped out.
Below, the city pulsed with life. Honking taxis, bustling streets, a far cry from the island's serenity.
An Aston Martin waited on the tarmac, sleek and black, its engine purring softly.
Keith guided me to it, his hand on the small of my back, a possessive touch that made me feel protected.
He opened the passenger door for me with a gentlemanly nod. "After you."
I slid in, the leather interior enveloping me in luxury, the scent of his car and cologne lingering.
He rounded to the driver's side, getting in with that effortless grace, and we drove off, weaving through the city traffic toward a boutique he'd mentioned.
"We need something for tonight," he'd said earlier.
"Can't have you outshining everyone in island casual. "
The boutique was exclusive, tucked away on a quiet street in Manhattan, its windows displaying gowns that screamed opulence.
A stylist greeted us at the door, ushering us into a private fitting area with champagne on ice and a rack of dresses already selected.
Keith settled into an armchair, his eyes on me with that intense focus that made my skin tingle. "Try them on. I want to see."
The first dress was a shimmering silver number, strapless with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt that cascaded like mercury.
I stepped out of the changing room, the fabric hugging my curves, the hem brushing the floor.
Keith's expression was neutral, his brow furrowing slightly as he tilted his head.
"It's elegant, but too cold." I nodded, a bit disappointed.
It felt glamorous, but his reaction made me see it differently.
Back in the room, I tried the second. A deep emerald green gown with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a high slit up the leg. It made my eyes pop, the color rich against my fair skin. When I emerged, Keith's eyes darkened, but he shook his head.
The third was a classic black dress, sleeveless with a boat neck and a mermaid silhouette that accentuated my hips. It was sophisticated, but Keith's face remained unimpressed, his lips pressing into a thin line.
The fourth didn't fare better. A royal blue ball gown with intricate beading. His expression was polite but distant. "Too formal, too stiff."
Finally, the stylist brought out the last one.
A deep, rich burgundy wine-red evening gown made of smooth, slightly glossy fabric that hugged the body closely, emphasizing an hourglass shape.
The neckline was sweetheart-shaped with thin spaghetti straps, giving it a classic and elegant touch.
It fit tightly through the torso and hips, then flared out slightly at the bottom into a mermaid-style hem, adding a dramatic, graceful flow.
Perfect for a formal event or an upscale evening setting.
I slipped it on, the fabric caressing my skin like a lover's touch.
When I stepped out, Keith's reaction was immediate.
His eyes widened, darkening with appreciation, his posture shifting as he stood. "That's it. You look... stunning."
I blushed, twirling slightly to see the hem flare. "You think? It's not too much?"
He shook his head, his voice low. "It's perfect. We'll take it. And a suit for me."
We left the boutique, bags in hand, heading to the hotel he'd booked. A penthouse suite overlooking Central Park, the city sprawling below like a glittering jewel.
In the room, I freshened up first, showering to wash away the travel grime, then styling my hair into loose curls that fell around my shoulders like a cascade.
Red lips for a bold touch, the burgundy gown slipping on like it was made for me, paired with high heels that elongated my legs, a small handbag, and a statement necklace that rested against my collarbone, its diamonds catching the light.
It wasn't my usual style. It was more glamorous, more formal but staring in the mirror I felt confident, powerful, like I could face whatever the night held.
Keith knocked on the bedroom door I'd used to change while he waited in the living area.
When I opened it, he stood there, looking every inch the charming billionaire with black suit hugging his bulky frame, black shirt with the top two buttons open, revealing a hint of toned chest that made my mouth dry, black shoes polished to a shine, gold cufflinks glinting.
He looked taken aback for a second, his eyes raking over me. "You look incredible."
I blushed, smoothing the fabric. "Thank you. You clean up nice yourself."
He smiled and then offered his arm. "Shall we?"
In the car, the city lights blurred past as we drove. "Tell me about your family," I said, trying to ease my growing nerves. "What's your father like?"
Keith's hand rested on mine. "Marcus? Intense, driven. Built the empire from nothing. Mother's gone, so it's just him, Anton, Zora and me. They'll like you."
"I hope so," I replied, squeezing his hand. "What about birthdays? Big deals in your family?"
He snorted. "More like business networking in disguise. But tonight, with you there, it'll be different."
As we neared the mansion, a nervous feeling crept in, starting as a flutter in my stomach but growing into something heavier, like a weight pressing on my chest. I thought it was just the anxiety of meeting his family for the first time.
The pressure of making a good impression, of stepping into their world.
But it intensified, a chill despite the warm car, making my palms sweat.
The mansion came into view, grand and imposing, blending classic and modern styles in a way that screamed power.
The dark, symmetrical facade rose like a fortress, with steep mansard roofs giving it a gothic, old-world feel, evoking images of ancient castles shrouded in mystery.
Numerous large, arched windows glowed with warm, contemporary lighting, casting golden pools on the manicured lawns.
The estate was surrounded by meticulously groomed gardens, formal terraces lined with hedges sculpted into geometric patterns, reflecting pools mirroring the structure's grandeur, fountains tinkling softly.
Keith held my hand tighter. "Everything alright? You seem tense."
I forced a smile. "Fine. Just nerves."
We arrived to a buzz of activity. Cars lining the drive, music spilling from open doors, guests mingling on the steps. A valet opened my door, and Keith came around, offering his arm. "Ready?"
I took it, the solid warmth grounding me.
Inside, the mansion was a sea of elegance. Crystal chandeliers, marble floors, a huge crowd in tuxedos and gowns. "Your father must have a lot of friends," I joked, trying to lighten my mood.
Keith smirked. "Business partners, mostly. Networking never stops."
From the crowd, a man approached with a woman on his arm.
He exuded brooding sophistication, dressed in a sharp suit with a drink in hand, his intense gaze hinting at power, intellect, and quiet turmoil like a man pulled from a classic film, composed yet burdened by unseen conflicts.
She exuded an ethereal allure amid the glitter, draped in a sleek satin gown, moving with effortless grace, her dark hair framing eyes that commanded attention.
Beneath her poised exterior lay a quiet defiance, beauty wrapped in mystery and unspoken strength.
"Keith," the man said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Good to see you."
"Anton," Keith replied, then nodded to the woman. "Zora."
Their eyes turned to me expectantly. Keith smiled. "This is Aurelia Sterling. My date."
Anton shook my hand, his grip firm. "Pleasure. Keith doesn't bring dates often."
Zora's eyes sparkled with amusement. "Finally, he listened. I've been telling him to find someone to drag him out of his boring, miserable life. You must be special to crack that shell."
I laughed, charmed by her sophisticated tone. "I'll take that as a compliment. Nice to meet you both."
Anton leaned in slightly, eyes glinting. “Compliment’s an understatement. Keith, if you ever get tired of keeping her company—”
The rest of his sentence died in the air.
Keith didn’t speak, didn’t move much. He just looked at Anton.
That single, measured glance carried more weight than a warning ever could.
His arm slid a little more firmly around my waist, possessive without being overt, fingers resting at the curve of my hip as if reminding everyone, including Anton, exactly where I stood.
Anton smiled, lifting his drink in mock surrender. “Relax, brother. Just saying she’s got good taste.”
Keith’s faint smile didn’t reach his eyes. “She does.”
We chatted more. Anton about his latest club venture, Zora about business deals.
But in the middle of the chatter, a laugh cut through the noise, sharp and deliberate, familiar and chilling.
My skin prickled, and my blood seemed to freeze in my veins.
Every instinct screamed at me to move, to run, but my body betrayed me, rooted to the spot. Reluctantly.
I turned toward the source of the sound, my heart hammering against my ribs, and the moment my eyes met his, my world shattered.