Chapter 52- Punishment
Aurora finally snapped back to herself as if someone splashed ice water across her face.
Her breath caught. Leonard was too close. Way too close.
She instantly pushed at his chest, palms flat, sudden, but he barely budged. His body might as well have been carved from brick.
She blinked rapidly and muttered, more confused than angry, “Showed up after ghosting for days.”
Leonard’s response was a low, amused sound, that signature half-laugh half-smirk that always made her want to either punch him or… something she refuses to name.
He looked down at her like she was the punchline to a joke only he got. “Says the person who blocked and deleted my number,” he murmured, voice annoyingly smooth, “and still said yes to me coming here.”
Aurora rolled her eyes hard enough to strain muscle and turned her back to him, folding her arms with attitude sharp enough to cut glass. It was bratty, childish even, but it was her style. Leonard stared a second longer, that smirk tugging deeper because he found it cute.
The brat is at it again.
“What exactly do you want me to do when your back is to me?” he asked, tone lazy, but daring.
Before she could face him, his arms were already sliding around her waist from behind.
Effortless. Claiming. Familiar.
Aurora froze, inhale stuttering.
His chest pressed lightly against her back, warm and unreasonably steady.
She felt him breathe in, slow, like he was memorizing her scent. Strawberry shampoo.
He always noticed.
She grabbed his hands, trying to peel them off.
“Leona.. Ren, stop it. Let go.”
“No.” Calm. Simple. Final.
She tried again harder. “I said let go.”
He loosened his hold… but only so he could spin her around to face him, hands returning to her waist even tighter. Her palms landed against his chest again, this time because she needed something solid to hold onto.
This was the first time she properly looked at him tonight.
He wasn’t dressed like the careless bad boy dripping money and ego. Not tonight.
Just a black Tshirt that hugged him enough to flex his toned body and tats.
His joggers were grey, loose, lazy.
Aurora’s eyes betrayed her, tracing abs she shouldn’t be staring at, the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth, pink, annoyingly soft-looking, eyebrow piercing glinting, hair messy like he rolled out of trouble instead of bed.
His blue eyes were darker here, room dim, but still striking enough to catch and hold.
Leonard caught her staring.
He leaned in closer, voice a whisper-smirk.
“Done fantasizing, Noelle?”
Aurora’s face heated. She smacked his chest, not enough to hurt, just enough to deny.
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not all that.”
“I never said I was,” he murmured back.
She huffed, looked away, but his arms tightened just a fraction, tugging her closer until she could feel his breath. She shot him a glare. He found it adorable.
“All you ever do is glare,” he teased, eyes lowering slightly. “But you never stop me. Do you, Noelle?”
She opened her mouth, to deny, to insult, she didn’t know. Because before she could speak, he slowly leaned in and pressed a kiss against her cheek.
Not rushed. Not light. Firm enough to leave her breath stuck somewhere in her throat.
Her spine went stiff.
Then he kissed the corner of her mouth, dangerously close, but still not quite there.
Then the bridge of her nose, soft and deliberate.
And finally, a quick, sure kiss to her lips, barely there, but enough to end every coherent thought in her head.
Aurora didn’t move. For a stupid second, she didn’t even want to.
He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, then slid his hand down her arm and intertwined their fingers like it was the most natural thing ever.
“Let’s go,” he said quietly.
Aurora blinked. “Huh? Where?”
“My place.”
Her brain stuttered. “What? Why? I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His gaze sharpened, smirk slow like a fuse burning. “Remember the last time you refused to come with me?”
A flash, her memory biting back sharply:
His shoulder on her stomach, him carrying her like a sack while she kicked and struggled, tapping her butt like a warning while people stared. Humiliation.
That day at the college park, all because of a damn project that was cancelled.
The chaos. His guts.
She gulped. He saw it.
His expression said Yes. I remember. And I can do it again.
Aurora’s voice softened without her permission.
“I really can’t come with you. Please.” No attitude this time. Just honesty.
He tilted his head. “Not bold anymore?”
“I just can’t.”
His answer was immediate. “Not sorry. We’re going.”
Before she could react, he gave a firm tug, not hurting her, just asserting control, guiding her out of her room, down the hall.
She struggled lightly, but his grip didn’t loosen once. She stumbled after him, heart racing, words tangled.
She let him drag her downstairs, past the living room, till they got outside.
The door shut.
As soon as Aurora and Leonard stepped out of the living room, Xander, half-dressed in pajama pants, scrolling his phone and absent-mindedly sipping leftover Coke, walked out from the hallway upstairs.
He froze.
Aurora and the grumpy guy. Together?!
The door had closed behind them before his brain fully processed what the hell he just saw.
Wait… wait, what?
Xander blinked, snapped back to reality and rushed to the upstairs balcony, heart thudding.
He leaned over the railing just in time to see Leonard guiding Aurora across the driveway, her phone obviously forgotten upstairs, and Aurora slipping into the sleek black car parked outside.
Leonard walked around to the driver’s side with that signature unbothered confidence as if he owned the entire world, and her.
The gates began to open.
“Yo, no way,” Xander muttered, eyes wide, disbelief slapping him fully awake.
He spun around and stormed straight to Elara’s room.
He knocked once, then barged in anyway. “Lara.”
She looked up from the laptop on her knees. “What now, Xander? If you're here to ask for noodles at midnight again—”
“Aurora just left. With that dude… The one you kept blabbing about yesterday— Leonard.” Silence.
Then her jaw dropped.
“Are you drunk?” She fired back immediately. “Because last time you swore you saw Aurora fighting a ghost. ”
“I’m serious. I saw them. They left through the front door and she got into his car. Leonard’s car. Like— left left.”
Elara pushed off the bed so fast her laptop almost fell. She rushed to the window, dragging the curtain aside with a sharp swish.
There, the black car was already approaching the gate of the massive compound.
Elara’s eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Exactly.”
She grabbed her phone and dialed Aurora.
The ringing echoed faintly, from Aurora’s room.
Forgotten.
“Damn it,” she hissed under her breath. “She left her phone.”
Her jaw dropped. “What. The. Actual. F—”
Xander threw his hands up. “Exactly!”
“Should we tell Uncle and Aunt?” Xander hesitated. “The guards didn’t try to stop him… That means something. I don’t know what, but something.”
Elara exhaled through her nose. “Fine.
Then we’re talking to the guards. Right now.”
They marched toward the main doors, hearts pounding with questions.
★
The car hummed beneath them like a living thing, soft engine vibrations crawling up Aurora’s spine.
City lights stretched across the windshield, blurring into different colours as Leonard pulled out of the Raven Mansion gates with one hand on the wheel and the other still loosely holding hers, as if letting go wasn’t an option.
Aurora didn’t know when she stopped trying to snatch her hand back.
Maybe when his thumb brushed her knuckles lazily.
Maybe when she realized he wasn’t saying anything, just existing beside her, breathing, radiating heat like a furnace she couldn’t ignore.
The sky outside was evening-purple, that hour where everything feels like a secret.
Her heart was too loud.
Leonard finally spoke, voice low and annoyingly calm.
“You’re weirdly quiet.”
She scoffed, staring outside. “Maybe I just don’t have anything to say.”
He smirked, she could hear it. “Liar.”
Her glare shifted to him for half a second, a mistake. The side of his jaw was sharp, clean.
His piercings glinted under the dashboard lighting. That stupid vein running from his temple down his neck pulsed like a silent challenge.
She tore her gaze away fast.
Leonard reached forward and tapped the car screen, scrolling through music without looking.
Aurora wasn’t prepared for what he played next.
Positions — Ariana Grande.
The opening chords slid into the car like silk.
Aurora froze.
Memories didn’t come as thoughts, they came as sensations.
His hand on her waist in dance class, the turn, the pull, the spin, the moment the whole studio faded and there was only him. Him forcing her to move with him. Pulling her back when she tried to go away.
His eyes on hers.
Her breath caught against his collar.
The way he had smirked when she missed a step because was too busy glaring at him.
Heat flooded her face. She hated that her cheeks betrayed her.
Leonard glanced at her slowly. “Oh? You remember this.”
She hated the knowing in his tone.
“Shut up,” she muttered, staring stubbornly at the window, but her reflection betrayed the faint blush she tried to kill.
Leonard’s fingers drummed softly on the steering wheel in rhythm with the song.
The city’s neon lights reflected in his blue eyes, God, why did he look like temptation itself?
“You were terrible at the spins,” he added casually.
She snapped her head toward him. “I wasn’t terrible, you idiot, you just, you distracted me.”
He arched a brow like he’d been waiting for that confession. “Distracted? Interesting choice of word.”
“Not what I meant,” she grumbled, crossing her arms. He chuckled, deep, warm, annoyingly beautiful.
The tension in the car changed. Not uncomfortable. Dangerous.
The road stretched endlessly ahead, the interior dim, just enough for Aurora to notice the veins on his forearm as he steered with one hand, muscles flexing effortlessly.
His shirt hugged every line of him. The tattoos vanished beneath the sleeve, begging to be traced, bitten.
She clenched her jaw, mentally slapping her brain.
Think of something boring.
Plants. Tomatoes. Algebra. Anything.
But then Leonard spoke again.
“You regret saying yes?”
Her pulse stuttered.
Aurora looked at him, really looked.
The confident playboy, yes.
But also someone who’d shown up when she drowned.
Someone who called first.
Someone who came.
Her lips parted, truth hovering dangerously close.
But no, no. Vulnerability was expensive.
He didn’t get that for free.
She looked away, whispering, “I don’t know.”
Leonard inhaled like he expected that answer, like it pleased him more than a yes.
“Good,” he said.
Just that.
Simple. Sharp. Like a promise.
The drive continued in charged silence, the music filling what neither dared to say.
City lights flickered across their faces, rhythm matching their unspoken war.
When the car finally slowed at a red light, Aurora felt it, that electric awareness of being studied. She turned just enough to meet his eyes.
He didn’t look away.
His gaze pinned her down, heavy, unblinking, like she was something he found earlier and refused to return.
Aurora swallowed.
This night was only beginning.
The light turned green.
Leonard pressed the accelerator.
Kimberly slammed her bedroom door so hard it rattled the frames on the wall.
Her hands shook, and her chest felt tight, like a storm had taken residence inside her.
“Kim, what’s going on? Why are you screaming again?” Her father’s voice called from the doorway, cautious but firm.
“Yeah, Kim,” her mother added, stepping closer, arms crossed. “We keep hearing this from you. Calm down and tell us, what’s wrong now?”
Kimberly threw herself onto the bed, flopping across the pillows dramatically. “What’s wrong? WHAT’S WRONG?!” Her voice cracked, desperate. “Everything! Everything is wrong! I… I got everything ready… I dressed up, spent hours, my hair, my makeup… My—everything!”
Her parents exchanged a glance. Her father sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Kim, breathe. Slowly. Start from the beginning.”
Kimberly shot him a look, venom in her gaze. “The Valentine’s party! All my planning, all my efforts, gone! Leonard… wasn’t even there!”
Her mother frowned, stepping closer.
“Leonard? Again? Kimberly, we’ve talked about this. Why is it always him?”
“Because, Mom! Because he’s him! He matters!” Kimberly’s voice cracked again, and she threw herself back against the headboard. “I waited for him. I tried everything! And… he didn’t even show up!”
Her father exhaled loudly, frustration clear in his tone. “I’m tired of hearing that name in this house, Kim. What is your problem? Seriously, what is it?!”
Kimberly’s lip trembled, and her hands gripped the blanket like it could anchor her in reality.
“Dad… I love him! I can’t help it!”
“Love him?” he scoffed, voice sharp, but not cruel.
“You are not going to school for that, Kimberly. You are there to learn, to build yourself, not to chase after a boy who probably doesn’t even think about you! ”
Her mother reached over, gently touching Kimberly’s arm. “Sweetheart… listen. I know it hurts. But getting so upset, so frustrated, it won’t change what happened. You need to calm down. Breathe.”
Kimberly rolled her eyes, glaring at her mom. “You don’t get it, Mom! You weren’t there. You didn’t plan every detail, every outfit, every moment, just to have it ruined by someone not showing up!”
Her father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kim, life is not a game. You will learn that. People will disappoint you. You will get over it. This… obsession, it’s not healthy.”
Kimberly sat up, fists clenched, eyes blazing. “It’s not obsession! I… I just… I just want what’s mine! I tried so hard, and I can’t stand seeing him go to someone else. I… I hate that he didn’t even notice me!”
Her mother sighed softly and wrapped her arms around Kimberly in a gentle hug. “We know you care, Kim. We know you put your heart into this. But you have to understand, controlling him, or getting angry won’t make him appear. And anger won’t make life fair.”
Kimberly leaned into her mom for a brief second, then jerked away. “You don’t get it!” she muttered, voice small now but still sharp.
Her father crossed his arms, jaw tight. “No, Kimberly. I do get it. You’re disappointed. You feel ignored. But you’re letting this define you, and I won’t allow that in my house. Not now, not ever.”
Kimberly huffed, spinning around to face her window.
Her mother stepped back, gently. “Go ahead. Let your feelings out. But remember, we’re here. Don’t lose yourself, Kim. Please.”
She turned toward the bed, picking up her phone, tossing it onto her blanket. Her heart was still racing, thoughts still fixated on him. But a small part of her felt… anchored.
Her father muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Young adults… why must it always be about a boy?”
Kimberly didn’t answer. She stared at the sunset, jaw tight, and whispered, more to herself than anyone else, “I’ll show him. I’ll make him notice… one way or another.”
The car slowed to a stop in front of the Dark Villa.
Oh shit.
Aurora’s hand twisted in her lap as she hesitated, heart thundering.
“I can't do this. I wanna go back. Ren.”
“We're already here. No going back.”
“Ren, no.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, his fingers curled around hers, firm and unyielding, and he guided her out of the car.
Aurora’s feet dragged slightly, her mind screaming at her to run, but his grip was relentless.
Inside the villa, the darkness swallowed them. The sleek black and grey walls reflected the faint light from the scattered lamps, shadows dancing as he moved her forward.
Aurora’s chest tightened with a mix of anticipation and fear. Memories of the last time she’d been here, the kiss he had stolen, the way he had taken control without asking, flashed behind her eyes.
“Ren. I can't. I just can't.” She tried again, stepping back, but his hand shot out, pressing her against the cold wall.
Her back hit the smooth surface with a sharp edge of contact, forcing a shiver up her spine.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he said, voice low, dangerous. His other hand rested near hers, pinning her in place. Her pulse raced, and her knees weakened slightly.
Aurora opened her mouth, trying to protest, to argue, but the words stuck.
Leonard’s eyes bore into hers, blue and unyielding in the dim light, holding her entirely captive.
She struggled slightly, shoving against his chest, trying to create space, but he didn’t budge. He simply smirked, calm and confident.
“You think I’ll let you leave?” he murmured, leaning closer. His shadow fell over her like a blanket, thick and suffocating.
Aurora’s hands clawed at him instinctively, but Leonard’s grip tightened, his presence overwhelming.
She could feel the strength in his arms, the weight of him pressing her back against the wall.
“Why did you bring me here?”
“Why did I bring you here?” He chuckled. Darkly.
Aurora’s breath hitched. The villa fell silent around them, the tension thick and inescapable..
Finally, his voice dropped lower, every word deliberate, filled with that cold, dangerous tenderness only he could command.
“You tried to take your life last night, Noelle. You’re here for your punishment.”
Aurora swallowed absolutely nothing.
.
.
.
TBC...