Chapter 13 Aurora
AURORA
This is bizarre. That’s saying something, considering everything I’ve been through lately.
I feel like I’m standing outside myself, watching as I go through the motions of getting ready for the funeral. Everybody’s going to be watching my every move, the way they always have. They might wonder if I’ll break down, or if I’ll be the strong person my father raised me to be.
There’s not a doubt in my mind they’ll want to see me crack. They might click their tongues and shake their heads and offer condolences the way normal people do at a time like this, but I know this world too well to be fooled. They won’t mean a word of it.
And deep down inside, I would bet most of them are glad he’s gone. The way I am. Still, I’ll pretend, because that’s what the world expects of me. My husband included.
He is waiting for me by the door as I step out of the closet.
We haven’t talked much since that night we had tea.
He mostly ignores me, but he hasn’t shackled me to the bed either.
I just can’t figure him out. He is so hot and cold; it’s giving me whiplash.
Either way, I have to be strong. Yes, he was nice to me after my nightmare, but I can’t forget he is the one who put all of this ugliness into motion.
Besides, leaving me alone so much of the time only makes it easier for me to think and plan.
That’s what I’ve been doing, too. Observing carefully.
Learning routines. Listening when voices float my way—guards changing shifts, the conversations Liam has with them and with his team.
There’s a rhythm to the household, and I’m learning it.
Eventually, I’ll find a crack in his armor, and I’ll use it against him the way he would use it against me if he had a chance.
“Do I look like a grieving daughter?” I ask him as we walk to the elevator.
He looks me up and down in a way that makes me feel naked, then nods. “I buy it. Make sure there are tissues in your purse,” he advises. “For the moment when you break down. You might not think it will happen, but there’s something very final about that casket descending into a hole.”
I haven’t cried yet. Not for my father, anyway.
“I’m all set,” I murmur as we step onto the elevator.
He looks like a million bucks in his fitted black suit, clean-shaven, with a Patek watch gleaming on his wrist. Everything about him screams power, status.
It’s a shame he’s so empty inside. He’s careful to hide the code he punches into the panel before the doors slide shut with an almost silent whooshing sound.
Then we’re on our way down, where a black SUV waits for us.
Once inside, he pulls out his phone and shuts me out, but that’s fine. I have nothing to say to him, and all he seems to care about is taunting me. Like a sick fuck who gets off on torture.
In other words, he’s a lot like my father. I have to hide a smile that tugs at the corners of my mouth. He would shit a brick if I pointed out their similarities. And then he would take it out on me, which is why I keep my mouth shut. This isn’t my first rodeo.
I’m actually on my way to my father’s funeral.
Does it make me a bad person, the fact that I’ve imagined this so many times?
Never with any sadness, never with any fear.
I looked forward to it the way a kid looks forward to summer vacation, only there was no way to count the days.
I could only hope he pissed off the wrong person and wound up with his head blown off.
He might not have had his head blown off, but he definitely made the wrong enemy. Or the right one, depending on how I look at it.
“You don’t have to pretend to be strong,” Liam murmurs.
When I glance his way, I see he hasn’t taken his eyes off his phone, thumbs flying over the screen.
“You can break down whenever you feel like it. Deep down inside, I know you must miss him. He was the only protector you ever had. Now you’re all alone in the world, and we both know how sheltered you’ve been.
You don’t have a fucking chance without him. ”
He doesn’t have the first clue. There’s a little bit of satisfaction in that.
Knowing he has the totally wrong idea, that he’s operating on an assumption instead of bothering to learn the truth.
Maybe he doesn’t have everything worked out as well as he thinks he does.
He’s too busy thinking he’s the smartest person around, no matter where he is or who he’s with.
When I turn my head his way, he lifts his eyebrows.
The look on my face must speak volumes. “All right, then,” he murmurs, chuckling to himself while I silently seethe.
I cannot wait to watch him fail. I’m not sure how it will happen.
I only know it needs to. It’s what he deserves—not for killing Dad, but for underestimating me. He’s going to wish he never had.
There’s something else he hasn’t realized, too.
Whenever he tries to get a reaction out of me, assuming I would have any kind of feelings toward Dad but hatred and contempt, he shows me more of himself than he means to.
He tells me, without knowing it, that he loved his family.
He still does. He’s not this cold, heartless machine he pretends to be.
He honestly can’t believe it’s possible for me to truly hate the man who gave me life.
I like that. If I pointed it out, he would see it as a weakness. I could throw it in his face, but I think it’ll be smarter to keep it to myself, like tucking it away for later.
We decided against a viewing at the funeral home. There’s not much to view, anyway. I don’t want to think about the condition Dad’s corpse must be in. Not out of love, but out of disgust. I was disgusted by him enough all my life. I don’t need it to continue now that he’s dead.
Liam snorts like there’s anything funny about the way dozens of cars choke the road once we get close enough to the cemetery. “Look how loved he was.” He snickers. “Isn’t this sweet?”
We both know it isn’t love. He’s only trying to get a rise out of me while he pats himself on the back for being so damn clever. I cannot wait to watch his whole plan fall apart. There must be something he missed. There’s got to be.
The driver has to shout through his window.
“I’ve got the daughter here!” Like magic, the sea of cars parts for us.
People standing around try to peek inside through the tinted windows.
It disgusts me. They’re acting like I’m some sideshow exhibit.
“Look at all these people who cared so much.” Liam can’t contain his glee—he might as well rub his hands together like the supervillain he thinks he is.
“A bunch of fucking hypocrites, all of them.”
That much we agree on. Not that I would ever admit it. He’s already taken enough from me. He doesn’t need to know what’s going on in my head, too.
We pull up to the spot where hundreds of floral arrangements sit around the graveside. People dressed in black walk to the spot, while Liam murmurs to the two men sitting in the front of the SUV to keep things in line. I wonder why he does that right up to the point where I step out of the car.
The tension in the air is like a physical thing, threatening to knock me down as soon as my feet touch the ground.
No fewer than a dozen pairs of eyes stare straight through me.
There’s no hint of the sympathy I expected to find.
There’s only what looks like contempt. Bitterness.
It didn’t hit me until now, but there could be enemies here instead of admirers and associates.
All of a sudden, my feet are lead, glued to the ground.
“Something’s wrong here,” I whisper to Liam when he takes my arm. I look up at him, hoping to get through, but all he does is give me a kiss against my forehead that makes me shudder in disgust.
“Come on. You can do this.” Laughter lights up his eyes, but he pretends to be serious and solemn as he leads me to the grave.
As we walk, my gaze sweeps over the crowd.
Something bad is going to happen. I feel it in my bones.
But when I try to pull away from Liam, he only holds on tighter.
It’s almost like he’s leading me to my grave instead of Dad’s.
I don’t know the man holding the service.
I’ve never seen him before, and it’s not like we ever went to church except when Dad would make an appearance at an event like this.
It was all for show. Considering he has nothing but good things to say about my father, I’m going to bet he never knew him.
None of these people ever really knew him.
I can’t stand the hypocrisy, but I don’t have a choice.
I have to pretend to care—at one point, Liam even hands me his handkerchief. The smug fucker.
Somebody comes around, handing out red roses, one for each of us standing closest to the grave.
“Go ahead,” Liam murmurs. “I’m here with you, honey.
” I have to bite my tongue so hard it hurts, but somehow, I make it to the graveside where a pearl-white casket gleams even under a gray sky.
Somehow, that’s the most ridiculous part of all.
That he would be laid to rest in something so pure-looking.
“Goodbye,” I whisper, then toss the rose on top of the casket as it’s lowered.
The bloom has barely touched the lid when a shot rings out.
I barely know what’s happened before I’m falling. More shots fill the air as I hit the unforgiving wooden platform set up around the outside of the grave. My knees strike first, then my head hits something before a heavy weight lands on top of me.
Not something. Someone. Liam.
Pain zips through me from head to toe while he shouts. “Get her out of here!” The sound of his voice gets mixed-up with all the others screaming, shouting, weeping.