FAZER LOGINAuroraDamon didn't sleep home last night.I tossed and turned hoping the door would unlock.I knew I shouldn't care.In fact, I'd signed an agreement that promised I wouldn't.But why does my heart race a little whenever he's near? Why does my body inch closer to him like a magnet?A soft breath escaped my lips slowly replaced by a long sigh.I stared at my phone. I hadn't really been conversing with my family. Not even my best friend.Lucky her, she had everything under her control, a husband who loved her and wouldn't leave her alone to go see another woman after almost sharing a kiss.The night had been ridiculously long—longer than it ought to be.I'd stared at images on my phone. I'd even stared at the picture frame on his desk.Why that picture?I had texted and deleted several times wondering if texting him was the right decision to make.I slept poorly.This morning, I'd received a text from a familiar contact. My rival.She had sent a picture of herself and my husband. She l
DamonI held her.I was unsure if that was the right thing to do considering the fact that neither of us ought to catch feelings, but something in me just wouldn't stop reaching for her.She was shaking.Dad had upset her. I didn't like that.As we got into the car, I looked back at the building, "This may be the last time I'll be here with her."She wiped under her eye with her index finger. She looked at me like she had questions to ask. Questions I didn't want to answer.I shut the door behind her and walked in.She faced the window; her back was toward me. I could hear her sniffle.I could see she was trying so hard not to reveal herself in her current state. "Arie, talk to me. Please. Tell me anything."She whimpered.I reached for her shoulder and slowly directed her face toward me.Streaks of tears left marks on her face. Her eyes were red, her face swollen.She avoided my gaze.I tilted her face upwards until we made eye contact."Please," I begged."Why didn't you tell me
Aurora As soon as I walked into the main building, I noticed someone whose rigid posture looked like he was waiting.Damon.He smiled when he saw me, quietly assessing me with his eyes."You look great, Mrs Grey," he finally acknowledged."Thanks Damon. I love the necklace.""It suits you. Shall we?" He stretched his forearm toward me. What a gentleman, I thought.As we walked in, my heart raced. He seemed to notice. He squeezed my hand tenderly.Soft music played from inside the hall. There was a huge door at the entrance."Ready?"I took a deep breath then muttered, "Ready."He pushed the door wide open.I looked at my feet, avoiding eye contact with whoever and whatever awaited my gaze.A familiar scent filled the air.Vanilla.My eyes traced their way round the room.The scenery was amazing—even better than Damon's penthouse.A soft gasp escaped my lips.There were workers lined up at all the corners of the hall.Butlers, chefs and maids moved with such poise, I was almost jeal
Aurora A day had passed since the incident occurred. One thing I did observe was that I was at peace.The texts from various unknown contacts subsided.I didn't know how to feel, but I suspected Brian was responsible for some of them.I sat on my bed sipping tea and reading a book I'd published a year ago.It was a tragic romance story. As I sipped, I noticed something:The female lead's life was weirdly similar to mine.She was in emotional distress, and quite frankly, she was the problem. I giggled.Suddenly, I realized—I could be the problem too.They say writers create characters that are eerily or directly similar to themselves. It's a cliché but could be true.A call came in, interrupting my thoughts. I slowly reached for it on the desk, careful not to spill the hot tea.It was Liliana."Hi, Chica!" she greeted excitedly."Hi, sis. What's up?" "Big news!!!""What?" I sipped my tea."I'll arrive in LA in two days!""Heeeeeeee!" "Can't wait."We went on to discuss various aspec
AuroraLast night, I checked my phone and noticed some unfamiliar messages from Brian.I'd scrolled through the texts and seen some messages we'd exchanged.Only that I hadn't replied to any of the messages myself.Had I deleted the messages in my sleep?Could Damon have access to my phone?I was terrified. Why did Brian’s name make my hands shake?I read the messages over and over, hastily at first, then forced myself to take a deep breath. I wondered why Brian didn’t question my tone.Dad called me a few moments ago; he'd been furious. He informed me that Brian was attacked and that the attacker came from me.I was confused. How could I have sent an assailant when I hadn't even communicated with him?Dad said Brian thinks Damon did it. He'd raised his voice at me. He'd said some awfully offensive things. He even accused me of marrying a murderer.I argued.Damon would never do such a thing. I paused.Suddenly, fragments of my conversations with him popped into my head. Something he
BrianI didn't realize what I'd lost until it was too late. I didn't value her when I had her.I had thought she'd stay through anything.Control was the only thing that ever worked. I wanted her all, everything she could give.I had loved her since her father introduced her to me.He'd wanted me to marry her to save his business.Her father had betrayed me. I wanted revenge.It was easy to take it out on her. She let it happen.The truth was, I loved the only way I knew how.My father had taught me that control meant love; my mother had little say in their marriage. He'd told me he loved her. Chaos invited punishment.I learned early that control wasn’t cruelty. It was protection.When everything was in its place, nothing fell apart. No one left.They were happy. I wanted that too. But my last marriage had ended in a painful divorce.She sat across from me, composed, fragile in the way women learned to be when they wanted sympathy.She cried on cue. I clenched my jaw and said nothi







