Chapter 2

Aurea’s POV

     Everything is going to be fine, I repeated to myself like a prayer. It has to be. I have a job opportunity now. A real one.

I didn't let myself hesitate for even a single second. I knew that if I stopped to think about the dark rumors surrounding the billionaire Rossi twins and the untouchable, lethal power they held over the city's underworld, I would completely lose my nerve. I would crawl back into my shell, lose my apartment, and end up on the streets. I had to rationalize it. Besides, why would men like that ever take any interest in a completely ordinary girl like me? I was just applying to be a maid.

Even though I had seen their striking, cold faces plastered on TV screens and on the covers of high-end business magazines—looking completely terrifying, merciless, and entirely different from the bubbly, sweet Nina—all I had to do was focus on my work. I just needed to keep my head down, blend into the background, and earn enough money. I couldn't afford to be a coward. Not anymore.

Moving with a sudden, sharp burst of adrenaline, I dragged my old, faded canvas duffel bag out from the closet and threw it onto the bed. The zipper caught twice, a testament to how worn out it was, but I yanked it open. It honestly didn't take long to pack my entire life into a single, small bag. A few oversized, faded sweaters, my two favorite pairs of worn-out jeans, a couple of books, and the absolute basic essentials were all I truly owned in this world.

As I cleared out the top drawer of my scratched wooden nightstand, making sure I didn't leave any important documents behind, my fingers suddenly brushed against a small, velvet pouch hidden in the very back corner.

My throat tightened instantly as I pulled it out. With shaking hands, I opened the drawstring and tipped the contents into my palm, staring down at the delicate silver necklace resting there. It was the only tangible thing left behind by my biological mother. My foster mother had kept it safe for me in a lockbox until the day she passed away, always reminding me that I came from somewhere.

Slowly, I fastened the cool silver chain around my neck, tucking the intricate pendant safely beneath the collar of my shirt, right against my racing heart. The metal felt ice-cold against my skin, but it gave me a strange, anchoring sense of strength. It felt like armor.

By the time I finished packing up the rest of the stuff, the violent storm outside had finally passed, leaving behind a thick, suffocating silence that seemed to press heavily against my eardrums. The air in the room felt stagnant. I lay awake on top of the covers all night, completely dressed, staring up at the peeling white paint of my ceiling as the hours slowly ticked away.

"I will never let a man trap me like that again," I whispered fiercely into the dark, silent room, my voice a solemn vow to myself.

Sleep never came.

Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Vance's hands on my waist again.

By dawn, I had given up trying.

    As soon as the first rays of morning light filtered through my dirty glass, I stood up on stiff legs and walked straight into my tiny bathroom. I spent several minutes trying to tame my wild hair, pulling it back tightly into a neat, professional bun at the nape of my neck, making sure not a single strand was out of place. I splashed my face with freezing water to shock the exhaustion out of my system and erase the dark circles under my eyes.

After searching the bottom of my bag, I pulled out my best outfit: a pair of tailored black trousers and a simple, crisp white blouse.

I picked up my bag, the heavy strap digging uncomfortably into my shoulder, but I welcomed the weight. I turned around and looked at the empty, quiet apartment one last time. It was a miserable, drafty place, but for the last few years, it had been my safe haven. Now, I was leaving it behind forever, and a small, bittersweet smile finally broke across my face.

   Nervousness twisted my stomach into knots, but beneath the fear, determination burned in my chest. I was ready to face whatever waited for me at the Rossi Estate.

   "Besides, what could go wrong?" I muttered to myself, trying to inject some confidence into the empty room.

I walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbing a small, stale piece of bread and a cup of tap water. I sat on the edge of the bare couch and ate as quickly as I could. I hadn't eaten a single bite of food since before the incident with Vance yesterday, and the hunger had left a hollow, gnawing ache in my stomach. I finished the bread in a few bites, swallowing the remaining water in one long go.

Setting the glass down, I walked over to the front door. My hand hovered just inches away from the brass knob, my palm sweating. I took one deep, steadying breath, bracing my shoulders for the outside world, when a sudden, thunderous sound stopped me dead in my tracks.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

A heavy, booming, and completely authoritative knock rattled the wood of my door, the force of it vibrating straight through the soles of my shoes and up my spine.

My transport car was here. My time in this old life was officially up.

I tightened my grip on the cold brass doorknob, my knuckles turning white as another heavy knock shook the frame. I genuinely thought I was just walking toward a domestic job. A way to pay the bills.

But as I slowly unlocked the door, I had absolutely no idea that I was walking straight into a beautifully inescapable nightmare.