Chapter Five AURORA #3
The words hit me harder than getting slapped. I stared at her while something ugly and sharp twisted inside my chest. Because I couldn't hear the music anymore. Couldn't hear anything.
"You promised me," I whispered. “Did all of that mean nothing? You promised we'd escape."
Something flickered across her face. Pain. Real pain. "We were children, and I didn’t know any better."
"No." I stepped back. "Fuck no."
Anger hit me so fast it almost made me dizzy. Not sadness. Not hurt. Rage. Pure rage.
"Don't you dare,” I hissed at her when she reached out for me.
"Aurora, please,” she said.
"Don't you dare sit there and tell me we were children." My voice rose without permission. "You used to hate this world."
"I still do,” she muttered.
"Bullshit." The word cracked through the room. Chiara flinched. "You used to cry at night because Papa terrified you."
“He’s dead,” she whispered.
"You used to tell me we'd leave and never come back,” I continued, ignoring her. "You used to say we'd get jobs and apartments and a stupid pair of cats."
“Please, honey,” she said.
My eyes burned. "And now look at you."
“I’m happy,” she said defensively.
“But I never will be if you force me into this,” I hissed. I pointed wildly around the boutique. "The penthouse. The bodyguards. The husband. The children."
Chiara's expression hardened. "Don't bring my kids into this."
"No!" I shouted. "No, you don't get to tell me not to when you're doing this to me."
"I'm protecting you!" she said, wringing her hands.
"No, you're controlling me!" My voice echoed against mirrors. The room felt too small. Too bright. Too hot. "I don't want to marry Sergio!"
"You don't even know him,” she said.
"I don't love him!" I wanted to scream. “I never will.”
Chiara stared at me. Then laughed. Not amused. Not happy. A bitter, disbelieving laugh. "You will learn how to. Do you think either of us got a choice?"
That hurt. Because I saw it. Saw the exhaustion under her eyes. Saw the sadness over everything she’d been through. Saw everything. But I was too angry. Way too angry.
"I will spend the rest of my life miserable," I snapped. “And I will blame you forever. You can be happy being a good little prisoner bitch, but I’ll spend every moment fighting this.”
I knew I'd gone too far. I watched the words hit her. Watched them land. Chiara looked like I'd slapped her. Because she'd never gotten to choose. Leo had taken her. Leo had forced everything. And despite all of it, she loved him now.
“Get changed,” she muttered. “Time to go.”
The drive home felt like a funeral. Nobody spoke. Not me. Not Chiara. Not even the twins. Bruno and Luca sat quietly in the back playing with toy dinosaurs while Sienna looked between me and Chiara every couple seconds with increasing concern. Even she knew something was wrong.
Rain slid across the windows outside while the city passed in blurred streaks of white and gold. I stared outside the entire time. Refused to look at Chiara. Because if I looked at her, I was going to cry. And I absolutely refused to cry. I hadn't cried in years.
Not since… Nope. Not thinking about that. Not thinking about Mama, because that would only shatter me to pieces.
The elevator ride up to the penthouse was silent too. The doors slid open. I stepped out first.
"Aurora." Chiara spoke up from behind me. Cold. Not angry. Worse. Calm. "Go to your room."
I blinked. "Why?"
"Go,” she insisted.
"Aurora's grounded?" Sienna gasped from somewhere behind us.
Bruno looked horrified. "AUNTIE GOT HOUSE ARREST?"
"No one got arrested," Chiara said flatly. “Sergio! Come help!”
I started walking away. Then I heard footsteps. Fast footsteps. Before I could react, Sergio appeared out of absolutely nowhere like the terrifying freak he apparently was.
"I'm sorry," he muttered. Then he picked me up.
I screamed. "KIDNAPPING!"
Bruno screamed too, mimicking me. "KIDNAPPING!"
Sienna looked delighted. Chiara pinched the bridge of her nose. "Sergio!"
I kicked wildly. "Sergio, put me the fuck down!"
The traitor carried me straight to my room. Then set me down gently. Too gently. Like he felt guilty. Which somehow made me angrier. I spun toward the door.
"No no no NO!” I screamed.
Click.
Silence. Absolute silence. I stared. At the locked door. At the gold handle. At the empty room. My chest tightened. Then tightened harder. Because it wasn't about Sergio. Wasn't about Chiara. Wasn't about the wedding. It was everything. Everything at once.
Chiara leaving. The wedding. The Devil. Freedom. Everything crashed on top of me and threatened to bury me beneath the weight of my own dreams that would never come true.
I sat down on the floor because my knees stopped working. Tears started falling. Silent tears at first. Then shaking breaths. Then my hands over my mouth because I couldn't stop. Because I was eighteen years old, and fucking trapped.
Somewhere in the middle of it, through tears and anger and humiliation, one horrifying thought slipped through my mind.
I wanted the Devil. I wanted the stranger in the mask to come save me from the happy ending I’d never wanted.