Chapter 6

"Good. Keep it that way."

Lucian's face hardened. He looked out the passenger window, turning his back on the puddle of water soaking her coat.

It was near midnight by the time they hit the city limits. Aurelia stepped out at the estate's crossroad, waving off the escort cars.

Alone, she slipped down the stone corridor and pushed open the hidden door to the Castiglione estate's west wing.

Inside sat her few worldly possessions from twenty years of survival. Aurelia pulled out a heavy black tactical bag, moving fast and clean.

Flash drives packed with years of off-the-books backup ledgers. Three sets of custom sleeve blades. Two untraceable, stripped-down pistols. Her emergency kit for walking the razor's edge. She zipped them into the padded compartments, ready to stash them at the safe house before dawn.

The safe was nearly bare. Only one thing remained at the bottom: a tarnished, dust-coated brass medal.

She was twelve when they dragged her into this house. Alessandra had tossed it to her like a bone to a dog.

Back then, she polished it every night like a sacred treasure. She really believed she finally had a home, a real family.

Later, she found out Bianca got a rare sapphire as big as a fist that same night.

Aurelia stared at the scrap of metal with dead eyes. She didn't even touch it. She slammed the heavy steel door shut.

"Sneaking around in the middle of the night. What are you trying to steal from us now?"

A venomous voice cut through the doorway.

Alessandra leaned against the jamb in a silk robe, swirling a glass of red wine, her eyes full of disgust. "The wedding is in three days. You better watch your step and drop the attitude. If Lucian wasn't so sentimental, a jinx like you would never sit as Underboss's wife."

Aurelia slung the bag over her shoulder and turned around.

She looked straight at the woman she had called Mother for twenty years. Every drop of hurt, every desperate plea for love, was long dead and buried.

"I won't embarrass you," Aurelia said, her voice flat as stone. "This is the last time I follow your rules, Mother."

Alessandra's brow pinched. The icy void in the girl's eyes unnerved her. She flicked her wrist with an irritated snort. "Get the hell out. Stop playing your creepy little games."

Aurelia didn't look back. She walked out straight into the dark.

Two in the morning at the new mansion.

She shoved open the living room doors, and the sight turned her stomach.

The entire hall was packed. Over a dozen rolling racks stood in neat rows, loaded with bespoke gowns flown in red-eye from Paris. Layers of pure white silk and bridal lace filled the room.

The butler stepped forward, head bowed. "Miss Aurelia, the Underboss had these rushed over. He said since the black one was ruined today, you can pick whichever you like. As an apology."

An apology?

Racks of mass-produced luxury to replace six months of her sweat and blood.

Aurelia drifted past the racks, grazing the soft white lace with numb fingertips. A sick joke.

Down the far hallway, hushed words drifted through the quiet.

Lucian stood by the arched window on his phone, his back to the room. His voice was a low murmur, dripping with the kind of tenderness he only ever gave one person:

"...I know. The blue diamond necklace is on its way right now. Don't cry, baby. It's my fault tonight. I shouldn't have let you go back to the apartment alone."

Bianca's spoiled cooing purred softly through the speaker.

"Go to sleep. I have an arms transfer at dawn, but I'll be over to spend the afternoon with you."

Lucian hung up, slipped the phone away, and rounded the corner.

He saw Aurelia standing amid the white gowns. He didn't even blink. Not a single trace of guilt. He gave her a cold once-over, dropping back into his usual dismissive tone: "Pick one that fits. I don't want another embarrassing scene at tomorrow's rehearsal."

He slung his suit jacket over his forearm. "Trouble at the northside armory. I have to head over and oversee things myself. Won't be back tonight."

Another lie.

For three years, the second Bianca shed a single tear, he had an endless list of urgent 'business' to handle all night.

"Go on," Aurelia said, meeting his gaze with a faint, empty smile.

Lucian's eyes narrowed. She seemed unnervingly compliant tonight. But in a rush to leave, he brushed it aside and turned on his heel.

He tossed a parting line over his shoulder: "Don't overthink it. Once we're married, all my time belongs to you."

Downstairs, the engine roared to life, tearing off into the dark

Silence fell back over the hall.

The faint smile on Aurelia's lips vanished instantly. She signaled the night guards stationed in the courtyard.

"Drag every single dress out of this house," she ordered, her voice dead and chilling. "Dump them in the burn barrel out back."

Nobody dared to argue. The guards hauled the multi-million-dollar silks out into the courtyard, one armful after another.

A freezing gust snapped through the hem of her coat.

Aurelia pulled a silver lighter from her pocket and flicked her thumb.

A yellow flame snapped alive.

Without a second thought, she tossed it straight into the barrel of lace and silk.

Thick, acrid smoke poured into the midnight air.

Flames roared violently into the sky, tearing through the fine threads, burning every scrap of her past into ash.