Chapter 7

Scarlett was totally out of her mind.

Yanking me by my hair, ignoring my struggles, she dragged me all the way to the club's front doors.

My scalp felt like it was ripping apart. Nobody in the hallway dared to intervene; they were all just watching the show.

Bam!

She kicked the club doors wide open. Cold wind and rain smacked my face.

"Open your eyes and watch!" Scarlett laughed like a maniac as she dragged me toward the road. "Let's see who he really chooses!"

Blinding high beams closed in instantly.

An out-of-control car was speeding right at us. Screeching brakes ripped through the night. It was a premeditated mob hit.

"Scarlett!"

Julian's terrified roar suddenly came from behind us. Footsteps rushed near.

For a split second, I thought he was going to pull us away like he did years ago.

But he didn't.

At the critical moment, Julian lunged from the side.

His eyes were only on a terrified Scarlett. He grabbed her shoulders tight and yanked her forcefully back to the median.

Because of his violent yank, I—who was still being held tightly by Scarlett's grip—completely lost my balance. His violent pull ripped me from her grip. The momentum threw me straight into the street.

I was hit head-on, smashing heavily against the hard hood.

Blood instantly gushed from my nose and mouth, choking my airway.

The pain was so intense I couldn't even scream.

Rain mixed with blood, blurring my vision. My survival instinct forced me to open my eyes.

Three feet away, Julian was half-kneeling on the median, fiercely shielding a perfectly unharmed Scarlett in his arms.

"Help..."

Gritting my teeth, I slowly dragged my twitching fingers through a pool of blood and grabbed his muddy pant leg.

"Ah! Julian, it hurts so much! I'm so scared!" Scarlett's scream pierced the night air, completely drowning out my weak plea for help.

Julian snapped his head down.

He looked at my bloody, mangled face, a flash of shock in his eyes. But a second later, Scarlett's crying ripped away all his sanity once again.

"Don't be scared, I'm here." He held Scarlett tight and scrambled to his feet. In the chaos, his leather shoe heartlessly stomped right over my bloody fingers.

The harsh sirens of an ambulance neared.

Julian scooped Scarlett up and dashed over. He grabbed the paramedic's collar tightly, his voice shaking. "Save her first! Hurry! She's in shock!"

At the club entrance, Lisa and her crew formed a circle.

They watched me twitch in a pool of blood with cold indifference.

Ten years of devotion. Repaid with a death sentence.

I closed my eyes and sank completely into a dead darkness.

...

When I opened my eyes again, the room was blindingly white.

It wasn't a crowded public hospital room, but a heavily guarded private suite.

A tall man stood by the bed.

Dressed in a black suit, with deep features and an incredibly oppressive aura.

The Don of New York's biggest mafia family, Cassian Acardi.

He didn't care about territory rules or mob wars anymore. The moment he heard about the hit-and-run, he had flown his private jet right into Falcone territory.

His eyes were bloodshot with exhaustion; he had clearly been watching over me for a long time. Outside the door stood two rows of heavily armed elite New York mobsters, ready to kill anyone from Chicago who dared to step close.

Seeing me awake, Cassian didn't say a word. He just looked down and handed me a phone.

The screen was on a social media app. It was a status Julian posted three minutes ago.

In the picture, Scarlett lay peacefully in a VIP hospital bed. Her face was rosy, without a single scratch.

Below the photo was a caption.

"My life for yours. Always."

I stared at that line for a long time. No tears. No anger.

Even the last trace of my lingering bitterness was completely shattered by that car. I felt nothing. Just dead, cold emptiness.

I calmly handed the phone back.

"Thank you." My voice was hoarse but unbelievably clear. "And... I'm sorry, Cassian. I misjudged you. Tomorrow morning, I want to go to New York."

Cassian raised an eyebrow slightly. He didn't ask a single question, just coldly spat a word: "Alright. New York welcomes you, Aurora."

The next morning.

I leaned back in the leather seat of Cassian's private jet.

The bandages on my body were tight, but my mind was clearer than ever.

On the runway, the engines began to roar.

The old phone in my hand suddenly buzzed like crazy.

Julian's name flashed on the screen. Call after call, stubbornly acting like his life depended on it.

I looked at the name and hit reject with a blank face. Long press, power off.

I popped out the SIM card I had used for ten years and tossed it into the trash can by my feet, along with the phone.

The plane shot into the sky, breaking through the gloomy clouds.

The shithole of Chicago, my ridiculous past obsession, and those two pieces of trash—were all finally crushed beneath my feet.

I finally welcomed the life that belonged to me.