Chapter 33
It never smelt this good in the morning.
I woke to the faint scent of fresh coffee curling through the hallways, mingling with something sweeter—vanilla, cinnamon, sugar.
My eyelids felt heavy, reluctant to open, until a soft giggle pricked at my ears.
Blinking, I turned over, expecting the house to be quiet as it usually was. But there was movement below.
A familiar warmth radiated through me, something I hadn't realized I missed. Slowly, I swung my legs off the bed and padded barefoot to the stairs.
The living room looked different.
Balloon strings twisted in the soft morning light. A small cake sat on the coffee table, candles waiting.
Neatly wrapped presents were stacked in one corner. My breath caught—not because of the decorations, but because of the faces that greeted me.
My mother stood inside the doorway, her eyes soft and proud. She was back from her trip, but it wasn't even the end of the month yet. Why was she here? Did I mess up a shipment? Was she going to scold me?
But her smile was warm, patient, and proud.
Mayami hovered nearby, efficient and gentle, a stack of folders at her side, trying not to smile too broadly. And Asvika, bouncing slightly on her toes, hair catching the sunlight, grinning like the world had just given her the best gift: me.
"Good morning, Versace," my mother said, voice calm but carrying an undercurrent of emotion. "Happy birthday."
For a moment, I froze, stomach knotting. Birthday? My birthday? I'd been so caught up in surviving, in controlling, in maintaining a facade that I had forgotten.
"W-what?" I whispered, uncertainty threading my voice.
"You heard me," Asvika chirped, practically skipping forward. "Cake first or presents. Come on, you deserve both!"
Mayami, always composed, added softly, "We've prepared a small morning celebration before work. Just a moment for you, nothing else."
I hesitated, a flush creeping up my neck. Part of me wanted to run, retreat to the safety of solitude, ignore the soft trap of joy they had laid out. But something warmer tugged at my chest, the realization that these people cared enough to remember, enough to give me this.
I sank into the couch, barefoot, hair a messy halo around my face. My mother handed me a fork; Asvika practically shoved a slice of cake into my hands before I could protest. I laughed, rusty from disuse, as the sweet frosting melted on my tongue.
I could almost taste my mother's smile in the cake. She made it.
"I... I almost forgot," I admitted softly, tasting the sweetness and the rare normalcy of it. "I didn't even remember it was today."
"I know," my mother said, voice tinged with rare softness. "You've been busy surviving your empire. Today, we let you breathe. Let you smile."
Asvika leaned against my shoulder, pressing a small gift into my lap. "Open it! This one's perfect. You'll love it."
I unwrapped it carefully.
Inside was a delicate bracelet, simple but elegant. Gold with a small charm shaped like a phoenix. A symbol, perhaps, of how I'd risen, how I'd survived, and how much more I could become.
"It's beautiful," I whispered. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, Vee," Asvika replied, teasing. "Now eat your cake before I steal it."
I laughed, letting myself indulge in the morning. The tension that had been coiled around my chest for weeks loosened a little.
My mother poured tea into delicate porcelain cups, Mayami handed me notes for the day, but all of it felt secondary compared to this—this rare, unguarded moment where I could just be.
Later, Aurelio's driver arrived and drove me all the way to Aurelio’s leisure house.
I found myself in what looked like a game room. Beanbag chairs, plush carpet, consoles, snacks everywhere.
"You've got to be kidding me," I murmured, eyes wide.
"Take off your shoes," he called, grinning.
The carpet was soft, warm, and fluffy beneath my feet. He stood there, smiling ear to ear.
"Happy birthday, Versace. You deserve more than anyone I know. But I noticed you smile more at the little things, so I made this morning worthwhile."
He handed me popcorn, a gamepad, and a deck of UNO cards.
I smirked, eyes glistening as he grinned in understanding. "You want a rematch with the queen?"
"If she would do me the honour of blessing the day," he replied, sliding onto the floor as we dove into games.
Nintendo, UNO, Mario Kart, Mortal Kombat.
We laughed, joked, and teased.
Publicly, I wore my armour. Here, I let the mask slip slightly.
When he held my hand for a moment, I felt warmth, loyalty, a tether I could lean on. For a few hours, the empire, the council, and the power plays faded.
Just him. Just me. And the rare feeling of being seen.
Time passed, and soon Mayami’s name popped up on my phone.
"Hours are up. You'll need to get ready for the birthday party tonight."
"Thanks, comrade," I replied. "You made my birthday fun."
"Hey, I won, but I'll let you have it," Aurelio teased, and I laughed, letting it linger in my chest.
But as the laughter died down, the weight of Mayami’s text settled over me like a shroud.
I looked at Aurelio, still sitting on the floor of his game room, and felt a pang of guilt.
Paris had been a beautiful distraction, and this morning was a gift, but the birthday party tonight was a return to the real world—a world where my best friend was dead and I was the one who had to avenge her.
"Aurelio," I said, my voice softening as I stood up and smoothed out my clothes. "Today was... it was exactly what I needed. Thank you."
He looked up, sensing the shift in the air. "But?"
"But we need to be clear before we walk into that party," I said, meeting his eyes with the steady gaze of a woman born to lead.
"I'm the heir to my House, and right now, my only focus is the revenge I came back for. I can’t let my heart get ahead of my mission.
People are going to whisper tonight, but I need you to know—officially—that we aren't engaged.
I'm not ready for that. I need space to breathe, and I need to do this on my own. "
Aurelio went quiet, his playful expression fading into the composed mask of an heir. He stood up slowly, giving me a small, respectful nod.
"I understand," he said, his voice low. "I know the weight you're carrying. If you need us to be only allies for now, I’ll respect that. But don't think I'm giving up. I’m an heir too, Versace—I know how to play the long game. I’ll be at the party tonight, but I’ll give you the air you need."
He reached out, grazing my knuckles with his thumb one last time before stepping back. "Go get ready. I'll see you in the lions' den."
Next came Zorian. No grand display, just him, a motorcycle, and the quiet thrill of a private ride. He handed me a helmet, his warm brown eyes catching the last daylight.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
I slid it on, heart thumping.
We raced through city streets, the wind tearing at my hair, lights blurring past.
I felt... free.
My laughter echoed in his helmet, and he grinned, pulling slightly ahead, letting me chase him. Thrill, adrenaline, and quiet understanding filled the spaces words couldn't touch.
By the time we returned home, my chest burned with exhilaration. I was glowing, flushed from the wind and freedom.
Back at the estate, everyone had returned to prepare for the evening party.
Conglomerates, friends, allies, they all arrived, smiling, thanking my mother and me. I wore my mask, public and poised, but inside I carried the warmth from the moments with Aurelio and Zorian.
Later, my mother approached. "I'm proud of the woman you've become," she whispered, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "Yes, at one point, I was jealous of the opportunities you had, but now I...I will ensure you have every chance to rise. My princess. I love you."
"Happy birthday, Versace Aratrika Arabella Versace," she added softly.
I swallowed, smiling, a tear threatening to escape. My heart ached with gratitude.
After the festivities, I planned to retire early. But as I entered my room, an envelope caught my eye on the desk. No name, no sign. Only an elegant card:
"Meet me at the nearby club, rooftop. 10:00 PM. Alone."
A shiver ran down my spine. First instinct was to ignore it. Pretend the day was done. But curiosity and danger tugged at me. I could almost swear it was Dominic.
What was he going to do this time? Throw me off the rooftop? My pulse quickened at the thought.
I changed into biking gear and rode out, city lights stretching before me. The club was busy, but I was in motion, unnoticed, daring the night. In the elevator, anticipation thickened.
The rooftop was quiet. Dark, save for a single spotlight casting a warm glow. My pulse raced—not fear exactly, but anticipation.
"Honestly! Do you want to harm me on my birthday?" I yelled, half-laughing, half-cautious.
And then I saw him—no, not him. A warm, brown-skinned figure, hair curling softly in the light. Silhouette framed against the night. My breath caught.
And then, a familiar voice whispered, soft and intimate:
"Happy birthday, Habibi."
It...it couldn't be.