JUST HIS

Aurora's POV

The dress is too tight.

That’s the first thing I notice when I look in the mirror... how the white fabric clings to my breasts and hips like it was made to show everyone exactly what they bought. My hands won’t stop shaking. I press them flat against my thighs and suck in a breath that tastes like expensive perfume and regret.

You did this for Mom. For Jake. Remember that.

The ceremony was barely an hour ago. Cold flowers, fake smiles, and whispers I pretended not to hear. “Kane girl sold herself.” “Black got a good deal.” I stood beside Nico Black, said vows I didn’t mean, and kept my chin up the whole time thinking about hospital bills, empty cupboards, and my little brother sleeping on the couch. Home from school because we couldn't afford school shoes.

It was worth it. It has to be worth it.

The penthouse bedroom is huge and cold despite the warm lighting. It smells like cedar and something sharper underneath...money, power, the kind of clean that costs more than most people make in a year. Floor-to-ceiling windows show the city glittering sixty floors below, and I’m standing here in a wedding dress that feels like it belongs to someone else’s life.

I reach behind me for the zipper. Can’t reach it. Of course.

I’m still struggling when the door opens without a knock.

My stomach drops. I don’t turn right away. I hear the soft click of the latch, expensive shoes on thick carpet, and I tell myself to breathe before I face whatever comes next.

When I finally turn, Nico Black is already watching me.

He’s taken off his jacket. Tie loosened, top button open, sleeves rolled up to show strong forearms. He looks exactly like the kind of man who can ruin your life with a signature and a smile. Gray eyes move over me slowly, taking in every curve the dress is hugging too tightly.

He doesn’t speak. Neither do I.

He crosses the room without rushing, stops so close I have to tilt my head up. His fingers find the zipper at my back. One smooth pull and the dress loosens around my ribs. I exhale shakily before I can stop myself.

“Breathing already?” he murmurs, almost amused.

“I’ve been trapped in this thing for hours.”

“Mmm.” His hand stays at the base of my spine, warm through the thin fabric. “You did well today.”

I blink. “I stood there and signed a piece of paper.”

“You didn’t cry.” He says it like it’s praise. “Some of them do.”

Some of them. Like I’m just the latest in a line of girls who signed their lives away.

I step sideways, putting space between us, and turn toward the window. The city lights blur a little. Somewhere down there Mom is in a real hospital bed and Jake has food in the fridge, and that’s why I’m here. That’s why I let this man put his name on me.

“You should know,” I say, trying to sound steady, “I’m going to need a laptop. For my family’s finances. The medical stuff. I can’t handle it all on my phone.”

Silence stretches.

Then: “You’re negotiating. On your wedding night.”

“I’m telling you what I need. There’s a difference.”

Something shifts in his eyes. He steps closer again, hand lifting to brush a strand of hair from my face. The touch is gentle, but it makes my pulse jump.

“You’ll have what you need,” he says softly.

Then his fingers slide to my jaw, tilting my face up, and his mouth comes down on mine.

It’s not gentle.

His kiss is slow but demanding, tongue sliding against mine like he’s already claiming every part of me. Heat floods my body before I can stop it. My hands fist in his shirt. A small, traitorous sound escapes me.

He makes a low noise in his throat and pulls me closer. The dress slips lower on my shoulders. His free hand slides down my back, pressing me against the hard line of his body, and I feel him... thick and ready...against my stomach.

My mind is screaming this is just a contract, but my body is already softening, getting wet, nipples tightening against the fabric. Shame burns hot in my chest. I’m selling myself and my pussy is clenching for the buyer.

The door opens.

I jerk back, gasping.

Nico doesn’t let go. His hand stays on my waist, holding me in place as he glances over his shoulder.

A man stands in the doorway.

Same face. Same gray eyes. Same height and build. But his hair is messier, tattoos crawl up his forearms, and a thin scar cuts across his jaw. He leans against the frame with his hands in his pockets, watching us with an intensity that makes my skin prickle.

My voice comes out small and cracked. “Who… who is that?”

Nico’s grip tightens slightly on my waist. His voice stays calm, almost casual.

“My brother.”

I wait for more. Nothing comes.

“Your...” My throat closes. “You have a twin.”

“Identical.” He says it like it’s nothing.

The man... the brother...pushes off the doorframe and steps inside. His eyes drag over me slowly, taking in the loosened dress, my flushed face, Nico’s hand still possessively on me.

A strange sensation rolls across my skin then... like another pair of hands ghosting over my shoulders, my breasts, between my legs... faint but real enough to make me gasp and press my thighs together. It comes from his direction. It makes no sense. It terrifies me.

The brother’s jaw flexes. His eyes darken.

I take one shaky step back from Nico. The weird feeling fades, but my heart is pounding so hard I feel sick.

“What… what was that?” I whisper.

Neither of them answers.

The brother keeps walking toward us, slow and deliberate.

And standing there in a half-undone wedding dress, sixty floors above a city that doesn’t care, I realize with cold, sinking horror that I didn’t read the fine print closely enough.

This contract wasn’t just with one man.

It was with both of them.