Chapter 51- Waiting.
[ALL ELITES COLLEGE — AFTERNOON]
Mr. Thorne moved with purpose, not speed.
He kept his head down as he walked past crowded hallways, slipping between students without drawing attention, his steps measured, deliberate.
When laughter spiked too loud or footsteps grew too close, he adjusted his path smoothly, turning corners that led farther away from the main buildings.
The farther he went, the quieter it became.
At the far end of the campus stood an old lecture room no one bothered with anymore, doors rarely opened, seats permanently empty, forgotten in plain sight.
Thorne glanced once over his shoulder before pushing the door open and stepping inside.
The room smelled stale. Safe.
He shut the door behind him, locked it, and only then did he pull out his phone.
The number wasn’t saved. It never was.
He dialed anyway.
The call connected almost instantly.
“Report,” Zane’s voice came through, low, cold, impatient.
Thorne swallowed. “She wasn’t there.”
A pause. Dangerous. Loaded.
“You’re sure?” Zane asked.
“I checked personally. The party was loud, chaotic, hard to miss someone like her. Aurora Raven wasn’t there.” Thorne hesitated before adding, “Neither was Leonard.”
That did it.
On the other end of the line, Zane exhaled sharply, like something inside him had finally snapped.
“So,” Zane said slowly, “they stayed together.”
Thorne shifted uncomfortably. “It appears that way.”
A soft laugh followed, wrong, unhinged.
“He thinks hiding her keeps her safe,”
Zane muttered. “He always thinks that.”
Thorne pressed his lips together. “Leonard’s presence is… concerning. He’s watching everything. If he suspects—”
“He doesn’t,” Zane cut in. “Not yet.”
Silence stretched between them.
Then Zane spoke again, his voice darker, more certain. “We execute the plan.”
Thorne’s breath caught. “Now?”
“Yes. I’ve waited long enough.” Zane’s tone sharpened. “She was supposed to break already. Instead, Leonard keeps interfering.”
“You know Leonard Grande won’t hesitate if…”
“I know Leonard,” Zane snapped. “I knew him before he learned how to play king.”
Thorne frowned. “What do you mean?”
Another laugh, this one colder.
“I took Bianca from him once,” Zane said.
“He never recovered from that loss. He never truly does.”
Thorne’s fingers tightened around the phone.
“If I could take someone he loved before,”
Zane continued, voice dropping to a near whisper, “then I can take Aurora too.”
A chill crawled up Thorne’s spine.
“She’s been mine all along,” Zane added.
“Leonard just borrowed her.”
Thorne hesitated. “And if she resists?”
Zane didn’t answer immediately.
When he did, his voice was calm. Final.
“She won’t.”
Thorne stared at the empty lecture hall, suddenly feeling like the walls were closing in. “Leonard is dangerous. If he figures out you’re back…”
“Let him,” Zane said. “He’ll be too late.”
The call ended abruptly.
Thorne lowered the phone slowly, his reflection staring back at him from the dark screen. Sweat clung to his collar despite the cool air.
Whatever they were about to unleash wasn’t just revenge.
It was war.
And Aurora Raven was standing right in the middle of it, whether she knew it or not.
Asha stood in the middle of her bedroom, phone pressed tight to her ear, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
“Asha,” her mother’s voice snapped through the line, sharp and cutting. “What is this nonsense we're finding out?”
Asha exhaled slowly. She already knew. Of course she did.
“What nonsense?” she asked carefully.
“Don’t play clever with us,” Her father cut in. “We sent you to All Elites College to study, not to embarrass yourself fighting over a boy!”
Her fingers curled into her bedsheet.
“How did you even hear about that?” Asha asked, irritation finally slipping into her voice.
“Your brother told us,” her mother replied coldly. “And we are ashamed, Asha. Absolutely ashamed.”
“What are you doing in that college?” Her mother demanded. “Is this why we sacrificed so much? Is this why we let you go so far away, so you could fight over a man and humiliate yourself?”
“That’s not…”
“Do you want your father and me to come down from India and see this with our own eyes?” Her mother continued, voice rising.
“Because at this rate, that is exactly what will happen.”
Silence stretched on the line.
“We are disappointed, Asha,” her mother said finally, quieter but heavier. “Very disappointed.”
“You were humiliated,” Her father continued. “Your name dragged around. And now we hear you barely attend classes anymore?”
“That’s not true,” Asha said quickly. “I attend. I just… ”
“You just what?” Her mother snapped. “Is this why we sacrificed everything? So you could compete with other girls over a man?”
Asha swallowed.
“I’m not fighting over anyone,” She said, though the words tasted bitter. “Things just… happened.”
“Things don’t ‘just happen’ to girls like you,” Her father said. “You were raised better.”
The disappointment hit harder than the shouting.
“Just listen—”
“No.” Her mother cut in sharply. “Your father and I made a terrible mistake, Asha. A terrible one. We sent you there, trusted you, and then we left and went back to India like fools.”
“Focus on your studies,” Her mother said firmly. “Fix this nonsense. Or we will come to New York ourselves.”
The call ended before Asha could reply.
She stared at the phone for a long moment before dropping it onto the bed.
Silence.
Then she laughed.
Not soft. Not amused. A hollow, sharp sound that startled even her.
“So now I’m the disgrace,” She muttered, running a hand through her hair.
She turned toward the mirror, really looking at herself for the first time in weeks.
The girl staring back wasn’t broken. She was tired. Angry. Waiting.
Enough of hiding. And how did her brother even find out? F?ck him to hell and back.
She had been attending classes discreetly, slipping in late, sitting at the back, leaving early.
Avoiding eyes. Avoiding whispers.
And every time, she saw her. Alayah.
Always quiet now. Always slipping into seats like she didn’t exist.
Funny how fast popularity evaporated.
As Asha stepped out of her apartment, her thoughts spiraled.
What’s the worst that could happen? she asked herself bitterly.
Kimberly had been slapped by Aurora, once, twice, six times, and she was still walking around campus like nothing happened.
Still loud. Still present.
So why was she hiding?
Why was Asha shrinking?
By the time she reached campus, something inside her had settled.
No more disappearing. No more pretending she wasn’t there.
She straightened her shoulders and walked through the gates of All Elites College with her head high.
If the world wanted a spectacle, then maybe it was time she gave them one.
And this time, she wouldn’t flinch.
The Raven Mansion’s private theater was dim and cold, illuminated only by the soft glow of the giant screen and the strip of warm-gold lights along the steps.
Plush black recliners swallowed their bodies whole, a fresh bowl of popcorn steaming on the table, untouched, except by Oma, who already had her hand in it.
Elara had insisted they hang out here, “no overthinking allowed.” So she picked a thriller, guns, chaos, zero kissing, exactly the kind Aurora usually liked.
But today, Aurora wasn’t watching anything.
Her eyes were on the screen, sure…
but her mind was somewhere else entirely.
Leonard.
His voice.
His “Do you want me there?”
And then her own voice saying yes.
Her heart kept replaying that moment like the movie on screen was nothing more than a moving wallpaper.
Oma shoved popcorn into her mouth dramatically. “Aurora, this guy literally stabbed five people in the first ten minutes. You’re not even reacting. Who are you and what did you do to my girl?”
Aurora is sitting in between them. She blinked slowly, then realized she hadn’t heard a single scene.
Elara turned to her, raising a brow, blanket wrapped around her shoulders. “She’s not here. She’s floating somewhere. Probably in someone’s black room...” she drawled.
Aurora’s throat tightened. She adjusted her position like it would shake the thought away. “I’m watching.”
“You’re breathing, not watching,” Oma deadpanned. “I can literally see your soul pacing.”
Aurora didn’t answer. Her fingers kept gripping and ungripping the blanket.
A gunshot echoed through the speakers, but Leonard’s voice was louder in her head.
"Finally decided to pick up... Noelle."
Oma side-eyed her. Hard. “Is it him?”
Aurora swallowed. “Wh–what?”
“Oh please,” Oma rolled her eyes. “You’re quiet, you look like you’re waiting for a text or a sword to fall from the sky. And your face keeps doing that thing.”
“What thing?” Aurora frowned.
“That thing where you’re pretending you don’t care but your heart is literally sprinting,” Oma replied, pointing at her chest.
Elara snorted. “She’s right. You’re acting like someone who said ‘yes’ to something she shouldn’t have said ‘yes’ to.”
Aurora stared at the screen again. The main character was bleeding, screaming… none of it mattered.
Her heartbeat was louder than the surround sound.
Yes.
She said yes.
Leonard Grande was coming to see her. Tonight.
“Elara,” She whispered suddenly, the movie fading to a muted blur. “What time is it?”
Elara grabbed her phone. “Almost 3PM. Why?” she asked, suspicious eyes narrowing.
“No reason,” Aurora lied too quickly.
“So... dinner?” Oma teased, kicking Aurora’s foot lightly. “Or midnight rendezvous?”
Aurora looked away. “Stop.”
Elara leaned closer, voice softer. “Are you nervous?”
Aurora hesitated.
Was she?
No. Yes. Maybe.
Everything inside her felt tangled, fear, curiosity, guilt, anticipation like electricity.
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “I just… can’t stop thinking.”
Oma smirked. “About the movie?”
Aurora didn’t respond.
Both girls stared at her. Aurora cracked, a little. “Just… last night. And the call I got earlier,” she muttered.
Elara looked up sharply. “Call? Who?”
Aurora tensed, too fast, eyes glued to the screen. “Wrong number,” she said quickly.
Oma’s eyes narrowed. She caught that tremble. That slip.
“Wrong number?"
Oma asked pointedly under her breath.
Aurora’s heartbeat stumbled.
Elara, oblivious, stuffed popcorn into her mouth. “Spam callers are crazy these days,” she said casually, eyes back on the movie. “Anyway shh, the villain is about to blow up the bridge—”
But Oma was still watching Aurora.
Not the screen.
Her voice lowered, a whisper only Aurora could catch.
“It was him, wasn’t it?”
Aurora shifted. “Drop it,” she murmured, not trusting her voice.
Oma’s lips curved, soft, not mocking, more knowing. “I won’t say anything.” She glanced at Elara to prove she meant it.
Aurora exhaled, relief and panic weaving together.
The movie raged on, guns, betrayal, explosions, but Aurora barely blinked.
She sat there, silent between the girls she loved, body warm in the room’s velvet glow, yet wrapped in a storm only she could feel.
Leonard Grande was coming tonight.
And she didn’t know if her heart was running from him… or running toward him.
Aurora sat on her bed with her knees pulled close, fingers curled so tightly around her phone that her knuckles turned pale.
She had been staring at the screen for so long the room seemed to blur around it, like everything else existed only in the background, out of focus.
He’s coming.
She said yes.
God, what was she thinking?
The house was strangely quiet for evening. Gemma and Melvin were out, Oma had gone home to rest, even Elara had slipped away to her room after their movie.
The Raven Mansion felt huge and empty, too quiet, as though it was holding its breath with her.
Aurora stood and paced. Then sat. Then stood again.
She checked the time.
Checked her phone.
No new messages.
Her heart did that annoying skip-drop thing every time she imagined him walking through the door. She hated it. She loved it.
It terrified her how much one person’s presence could shake her.
A soft sound cut the silence.
The front door.
Not loud, just a click, then a deep echo sliding through the hallway.
Her stomach tightened.
He's coming through the front?! Does he know her parents aren't home?
She didn’t move at first.
Just listened.
Footsteps, slow, controlled, confident. The kind that didn’t need permission to be there.
Her door wasn’t even locked. She forgot to lock it.
Or maybe she didn’t forget.
A shadow passed under the gap of her door.
Then it opened, gently, not dramatically, but enough to steal the air from her lungs.
Then he came in, Leonard.
He still wore black, of course he did, hair messy like he’d run a hand through it more than once.
His eyes found her instantly, and something unreadable flickered there. Not anger. Not relief. Something softer. Something dangerous.
He closed the door behind him without looking away from her.
“Noelle.”
Her name in his voice was different tonight, low, steady, threaded with something that felt too close to tenderness.
It unsettled every wall she had.
Aurora swallowed. “You came.”
“You asked.”
“No. You asked…” She muttered.
“And you said yes.”
He said it like that was enough reason.
Like he moved entire worlds when she spoke.
He stepped closer. Not fast, painfully slow, as though giving her every second to push him away. But she didn’t. She stood still, heart racing so loud she heard it in her ears.
Leonard stopped in front of her, close enough that she could smell it, Dior Sauvage Elixir, warm and familiar, the scent she remembered right before the water went dark.
His gaze fell briefly to the phone still in her hand.
Her grip loosened. It slipped from her fingers and landed silently on the bed, forgotten.
“What you did last night,” he said quietly. There was no anger in it, only truth. “You don’t get to act like that.”
Her breathing hitched.
“I didn't die. I'm here,” She whispered, voice small.
“I know.” His eyes held hers captive. “But I needed to hear you want me here.”
She did.
She hated that she did.
And yet…
Aurora nodded once, barely. “I wanted you here.”
His expression changed, something like relief, but deeper. He lifted a hand, slowly, giving her space to move away. She didn’t.
His fingers touched her jaw, light as a ghost, like she might break if he used too much pressure.
Her heart thudded once, hard.
Leonard leaned in, inches between them, breath warm against her lips but not taking. Not yet.
He watched her the whole time, like he was asking permission without words.
Aurora exhaled shakily.
Her eyes fluttered closed.
That was all he needed.
His lips met hers, soft, slow, not rushed, not violent. A kiss that wasn’t conquest or anger, but something terrifyingly gentle. A promise and a warning in one.
A kiss that tasted like the truth she’s been running from.
He pulled back just a second, just enough to look at her.
“Good girl,” He murmured.
.
.
.
.
.
TBC...