21 #2
He's quiet for a long moment. When he finally speaks, his voice is completely hollow. Stripped of all the arrogance, all the control, all the cold authority of the Crown Prince.
"Because I couldn't watch you lose him the way I lost Matthias."
The confession hangs in the air between us.
"Tristan told me," I admit. "About your brother. About what your mother did."
Evander's shoulders tense. "He had no right—"
"He was trying to help me understand." I take a step closer. "Trying to make me see why you are the way you are."
"And does it matter?" He laughs. The sound is bitter, broken. "Does knowing I'm fucked up because my mother drowned my brother change anything I've done to you?"
"No," I say honestly. "It doesn't change what you did. But it explains why you did it."
"I don't deserve explanations." His voice drops lower. "I don't deserve understanding or sympathy or whatever the fuck you're about to offer me. I ruined your life, Aurora. Systematically. Deliberately. I got your father fired, watched you starve, manipulated your scholarship, trapped you here."
"I know."
"I broke you. Turned you into a ghost because I couldn't handle you having any power I didn't control."
"I know."
"And now—" His voice breaks. Actually breaks. "Now I've burned the only leverage I had. The only thing keeping you here. Because I can't—I can't do this anymore. Can't watch you exist in my space like you're already dead. Can't be the reason you disappear."
He finally turns around. And the expression on his face destroys me.
Raw. Vulnerable. Absolutely terrified.
"So go." He gestures toward my canvas duffel bag sitting by the sofa. I didn't even notice it there—someone must have packed my things. Probably Marcus. "Your debt is gone. Your father is safe. Liam is safe. You're free."
I look at the bag. At my escape. At the freedom I've been fighting for since the moment I realized I was trapped.
I should take it. Should grab that bag and run and never look back.
Should put as much distance between myself and Evander Laurent as physically possible.
I walk over to the bag. Grip the handles.
In the reflection of the floor-to-ceiling windows, I see Evander's entire body lock up. See him brace himself for the moment I walk out that door and prove that everything he feared was true.
That he's a monster who can only ever buy people. Never keep them.
That caring about someone will always—always—end with him alone.
I drop the bag.
The sound echoes in the quiet penthouse. Final. Decisive.
And then I walk across the cold marble floor. Don't stop until my chest is pressed against his back.
I wrap my arms around his waist. Bury my face between his shoulder blades.
He flinches violently at the contact. A full-body shudder that ripples through his massive frame.
"What are you—" His voice is hoarse. Confused. "Aurora, what—"
"I'm not going anywhere, Laurent," I whisper against his spine. "You're stuck with me."
The sound he makes is inhuman. Half-sob, half-groan. Like something breaking open in his chest that's been locked away for years.
He spins around so fast I don't have time to step back. His hands slam into my waist, grip bruising, lifting me off the ground like I weigh nothing.
And then his mouth crashes down onto mine.
It's not gentle. Not soft. Not any of the things a second kiss is supposed to be.
It's desperate. Furious. Absolutely consuming.
His lips are rough, demanding, tasting like lake water and something darker. His teeth catch my lower lip hard enough to sting. His tongue sweeps into my mouth with zero hesitation, claiming, possessing, staking ownership in a way that should piss me off.
It doesn't.
I kiss him back just as hard. Just as desperate. My hands fisting in his damp hair, pulling him closer even though there's no space left between us.
He's shaking. I can feel it—the fine tremor running through his entire body, the barely controlled violence vibrating just beneath his skin.
"You should go," he breathes against my mouth. "You should run. You should—"
"Shut up." I bite his lip. Hard. "I'm staying."
"I don't deserve—"
"I don't care what you deserve." I pull back just enough to meet his eyes. "You dove into freezing water to save my brother. You faced the thing that terrifies you most because you couldn't stand the thought of me losing him."
"That doesn't erase everything else—"
"No." I cut him off. "It doesn't. You're still a monster who manipulated my life and trapped me here. I still hate you for that."
His face starts to close off. Shoulders tensing. Preparing for rejection.
"But I also—" I stop. Swallow hard. Force the words out. "I also watched you drown for him. Watched you stop breathing. Watched them break your ribs trying to bring you back."
My voice cracks.
"And I realized that I don't want to lose you. That the thought of you dying made me feel exactly the same way I felt when Liam went under."
His eyes are so wide. So vulnerable. Like he can't quite believe what he's hearing.
"You're fucked up," I continue. "And I'm fucked up. And this thing between us is probably the most toxic, dysfunctional relationship that's ever existed."
"Probably," he agrees hoarsely.
"But I'm not leaving." I press my forehead against his. "Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not until we figure out what the hell this is."
"This is me being obsessed with you," he says quietly. "This is me not knowing how to care about someone without controlling them."
"Then learn." I slide my hands down to frame his face. Force him to maintain eye contact. "Learn how to care about me without trapping me. Learn how to let me have choices while still keeping me close."
"What if I can't?"
"Then we'll fail." I shrug. "We'll destroy each other. And maybe that's inevitable. Maybe we're too broken to make this work."
I pause.
"But maybe we're not. Maybe two people who understand what it means to survive can figure out how to survive each other."
He's staring at me like I'm speaking a language he doesn't understand. Like the concept of staying voluntarily—of choosing him despite everything—doesn't compute.
"You're staying," he repeats. Like he's testing the words. Seeing if they're real.
"I'm staying."
"Even though I'm a monster."
"Even though you're a monster."
"Even though I'll probably fuck this up."
"Even though you'll definitely fuck this up." I pull him down for another kiss. Softer this time. "We'll both fuck this up. That's kind of our thing."
He makes another one of those broken sounds. And then he's kissing me again. Harder. Deeper. Like he's trying to consume me whole.
His hands slide under my thighs. Lift me. I wrap my legs around his waist instinctively, my back hitting the cold glass of the window.
"I don't know how to do this," he breathes between kisses. "Don't know how to be with someone without owning them."
"Then we'll figure it out together." My hands are in his hair again, tugging just hard enough to make him groan. "Start by asking me what I want instead of deciding for me."
"What do you want?"
The question is simple. Direct. The first time he's ever actually asked.
"You." I meet his eyes. "Broken. Fucked up. Learning how to be human. I want you."
His grip on me tightens. "You have me. Whatever's left after today—it's yours."
"Good." I kiss him again. Once. Twice. "Now take me to bed. Not because you're ordering me to. Because I'm choosing to."
He freezes. "Aurora—"
"Ask me," I interrupt. "Ask me if that's what I want."
He swallows hard. "Is that what you want?"
"Yes."
The word is simple. Honest.
His answer.
He carries me across the penthouse. Past the desk with its ashtray full of burned contracts. Past my abandoned duffel bag.
And for the first time since I arrived at Ardencrest—for the first time since Evander Laurent noticed me in that courtyard—I'm making a choice that's entirely my own.
Not coerced. Not manipulated. Not forced by threats or debts or systematic destruction of my options.
Just… choosing.
Choosing him. Choosing this. Choosing to stay even though the door is unlocked and I'm free to leave.
He sets me down somewhere near the hallway. Steps back. Giving me space. Giving me the option to change my mind.
"Are you sure?" His voice is rough. Uncertain in a way I've never heard before.
"Stop asking me if I'm sure." I reach for him. Pull him closer. "I'm here. I'm staying. I'm choosing this."
I pause.
"Now shut up and kiss me like you mean it."
He does.
And for the first time in months, I feel something other than trapped.
I feel… alive.