Chapter 38
Aurelia
FLASHBACK
Six years ago
My hand flies to my mouth, stifling my gasp. Screams mean danger, so instinct forces me behind a corner, my back tight to the wall—but not before I catch a glimpse beyond the courtyard: a massive chamber yawning open, dimly lit and impossibly long.
I’ve killed her, I know I have.
My hands claw at my face. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “You’re a murderer. You’re a jealous murderer,” I cry, knowing I need to find the courage to face what I’ve done.
Hesitantly, I peek through a window—my sight blurred by the tears I can’t stop from pouring out—expecting to see Gen’s lifeless body under my brother’s gun, but… that can’t be right.
Women are being herded forward. Women—as in plural.
Their hands bound, faces pale and terrified. The echoes of clipped Italian orders bounce off stone walls, harsh and hungry.
I dig my nails into my cheeks, trying to hold myself still.
Some of the women bear marks on their necks—branding, inked and cruel. My chest tightens. I know that crest: Orlov.
These are Russian women.
“Let’s fucking go. Move!” the man I don’t recognize yells.
It’s my papa.
But no.
This isn’t him. He doesn’t treat women this way.
He loves me. He loved my mom. He treats everyone with kindness unless he doesn’t have another choice.
I—the boy from the shadows—he was right. I’m surrounded by liars. By abusers. By sex traffickers.
I think I’m going to be sick. My eyes clench shut, tears sliding free.
And when I open them again, I can’t bear the sight, and I can’t stop crying, coughing through the overwhelming sensation. I try to look away, turning to run back to my room, but all I find is Enzo—standing tall and rigid, a silver gun in hand, near the opposite cliff.
My stomach drops.
Next to him, lit by the cold glow of bulbs, stands Gen.
My mind refuses to make sense of it. I feel like I’m watching through someone else’s eyes—the terror, the control, the betrayal, all mixing into a cocktail I’m not ready for.
“No… no, no, no!” I whisper, my hands moving to my ribs. The world tilts; the floor seems to vanish beneath me. I need to do something. I need to help.
I turn on my heels, sprinting blindly toward Enzo and Gen, away from the chamber, away from the horrifying scene. My boots slam against the cobblestones, my lungs burning, fear propelling me forward.
But a heavy hand clamps over my arm before I can get close enough for them to hear me. I whirl around, and Elijah is there. His eyes are piercing, almost dark with something I can’t read.
“You can’t do anything,” he says urgently. “Not now.”
“Let me go!” I shriek, wrenching against him. “He—he’s going to—Gen—” My words stumble, frantic, as panic claws at every inch of me.
Elijah doesn’t release me. His grip is firm, unyielding, yet somehow not cruel. His eyes search mine like he’s trying to make me understand the stakes without words.
“I know,” he murmurs, softer than the chaos around us.
Tears sting my eyes. “I can’t let it happen! I have to stop it, I have to—”
“You can’t, not like this. It’s done.”
I shake my head until it hurts. “I told him to kill her.” My voice cracks. “I told him. And I didn’t mean it, Elijah, I swear I didn’t. I was angry, and I—”
“Enzo isn’t killing Gen for you.”
I look up, confused.
“She was telling the Orlov bouncer about you; she had some connection and was trading information about you for some deal involving her mom. Enzo wasn’t going to kill her right away because he knew tonight was a lot for you, that’s the only reason he asked.
Not because of me or her or some meaningless kiss. ”
I tug violently at the roots of my hair, dread and guilt knotting into something heavy beneath my ribs, when the sound of a bullet leaving the chamber splits the night open.
“No!” I scream, watching what was supposed to be my best friend take a bullet through her skull.
I can’t breathe, I can’t see. Agony slams into me so hard my legs nearly give out.
Elijah leans closer, his presence grounding me even as my pulse races. “Ace, we need to talk about what you saw with Dante. Enzo and I are trying to stop it. But we are doing it smart.”
I try to look at him, but the tears burning in my eyes make it impossible.
“I know you’re shocked but if your father realizes you know he will kill you. He’ll kill all of us for allowing tonight to happen. So get it together. There’s nothing to do until Enzo is in charge and your father is dead.”
I can’t decide what’s worse: discovering Dante—the man I called Papa—is a horrible man, or watching Gen die.
I hate living here. I hate everyone.
Enzo is going to try to fix things? Fix what? Fix how? I’m just supposed to wait and let these women suffer until Dante dies?
Elijah continues, “We have to tell Dante there’s a chance the Orlovs find out about you after tonight. With Gen and your little motorcycle ride it’s inevitable. He will punish you once he gets word they are going to come after you. He will want to prepare you so you don’t break under torture.”
“What does that mean? Why is it such a big deal that I’m a secret anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter, but it means we can use you too, to help make this place better. You have to understand what changes tonight, and when they eventually take you, you need to kill Nikolai. He will be the one responsible for you.”
“You’ve ruined everything,” I spit.
I can’t understand anything he’s saying, it’s like the words have no meaning.
“Focus, Aurelia. Focus your anger on me. All of it on me.”
I wipe at my tears hearing my full name on his lips.
“It was my idea to test Gen’s loyalty tonight. It was my idea to take you out. It was my idea to go to a club she would be tempted at. And it was my kiss with her that caused you to sneak away and get mad at Enzo.”
I listen, my jaw ticking, when suddenly all my frustration funnels towards the one person I thought I could never hate.
“Good, now tell me you understand Ace. You will kill Nikolai when the time comes. It’s the only way this works.”
Another tear falls at the thought of having to take a life. “I understand.”