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Aurora's POV
"Congratulations, Mrs. Diego, you're two months pregnant," the doctor said, handing me my test results.
I heaved a huge sigh of relief, my face widening with a smile.
Pregnant. I was pregnant.
The weight of the word settled in my chest, accompanied by a rush of emotions—joy, nervousness, excitement. I had been hoping, and praying for this moment, and now it was real. A tiny life was growing inside me.
"Thank you, doctor," I murmured, running a gentle hand over my still-flat stomach. Diego was going to be so happy.
"So that explains why you've been feeling nauseous, and dizzy, they're the early signs of pregnancy," the doctor explained again, and I could only nod absentmindedly as I imagined the thought of how Diego's face would light up at the new.
He had always talked about having a family, about raising kids together. This was everything we had ever wanted.
Clutching the results close to my chest, I practically floated out of the hospital. The world around me seemed brighter, the air fresher. I imagined how Diego would react—his dark eyes lighting up, his strong arms wrapping around me as he lifted me off the ground, laughing with pure happiness.
I couldn’t wait to see him. To tell him that our dreams were finally coming true.
Hailing a cab, I gave the driver my address and leaned back against the seat, unable to wipe the smile off my face.
I hummed softly to myself as I stepped out of the cab, my fingers tightening around the small envelope in my hands.
My heart fluttered with excitement, a nervous kind of joy bubbling in my chest.
I'd replayed this moment over and over in my head during the ride home—the way I would tell Diego, how he would lift me in his arms, spinning me around in pure delight.
I was pregnant—our baby—our family.
The thought of a small human made me grin as I unlocked the front door
The house was silent, eerily so, but I didn’t think much of it. It was late in the evening, and Luca was probably in bed. Maybe he’d fallen asleep waiting for me.
"Diego," I called, softly, hoping my voice wouldn't startle him awake.
Still smiling, I kicked off my shoes and made her way upstairs, already picturing the look on his face when I told him the news.
But as I reached the bedroom, the door was slightly ajar. A hushed giggle reached my ears, followed by a low murmur.
I shook my head to rid myself of whatever thoughts that were creeping in. Diego wouldn't do that.
"I cannot believe that I could feel that way today with you, I fucking enjoyed it." A female voice reached me again, sending a shivering rack through my body. But the sound was familiar. Too familiar.
"Calm down Aurora, it is probably the excitement of the news that I'm going to break to Diego," I said softly, reassuring myself that it was all an hallucination.
"Yes... dizziness, the early stages of pregnancy," I muttered, standing up straight with a smile, deluding myself that what I heard was just the baby's doing.
I walked close to the door, my hands trembling with an hesitant push, as I opened the door fully—the view before me made my world crash into ruins
There, tangled in the sheets of our marital bed, was Diego, His bare body intertwined with another’s. My—best friend.
“Aurora—” Diego called, his voice was hoarse with shock as he scrambled to sit up.
My eyes darted to Lillian, who was stripped naked beside him clutching the sheets to her chest as if that would somehow shield her from what she had done.
My feet wobbled, losing it's strength as I fell to the floor, gripping the door knob to offer myself support.
The room spun around me with my breath caught in my throat, and I felt like I was drowning, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. The envelope with the test results slipped from my trembling fingers, fluttering to the floor.
Diego was saying something, his voice frantic, but the words were muffled, as if I were underwater. My vision blurred, and I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears that threatened to spill over. But they came anyway, hot and relentless, streaming down my cheeks.
“Aurora, I—I can explain,” Diego stammered, his voice shaking. He reached for me, but I recoiled, stumbling back until my back hit the wall. The coldness of it seeped through my clothes, grounding me in a reality I didn’t want to face.
Lillian—my best friend, the woman I had trusted with my deepest secrets, my joys, my fears—sat frozen on the bed, her face pale and stricken. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. What could she possibly say? What excuse could she give that would make any of this okay?
“Get out,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. “Get out of my house.”
“Aurora, please—” Diego tried again, his voice breaking. He looked so different now, his face twisted with guilt and desperation. The man I had loved, the man I had dreamed of building a family with, was gone. In his place was a stranger, someone I didn’t recognize.
“GET OUT!” I screamed, the sound tearing through the silence like a knife. My chest heaved with the force of it, and I felt like I might collapse under the weight of my own pain.
Diego flinched, his eyes wide with shock. He opened his mouth to say something else, but then thought better of it. He grabbed his clothes from the floor, his movements hurried and clumsy, and fled the room without another word. Lillian followed suit, clutching her clothes to her chest, her face a mask of shame.
I slid down the wall, my legs giving out beneath me. The tears came harder now, great, heaving sobs that wracked my body. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold the pieces together, but it was no use. I was shattered, broken in a way I didn’t think was possible.
Aurora's POV The underworld gathered at night. Not by invitation — by gravity. Word had moved faster than law, faster than rumor, faster than denial. Ports whispered it. Syndicates recalculated. Brokers erased contacts and burned ledgers in its wake. Viktor Hale was dead. The cages were gone. The sea had changed hands. They came to see if it was true. They came to see what replaced him. They came to see me. The Cavarallo estate terrace overlooked the harbor he once controlled — black water veined with gold from anchored ships and distant city light. Tonight every vessel rode silent, as if even the tide understood this was a night of accounting. Men who ruled shadows stood along the stone balustrade: smugglers, arms brokers, port lords, information dealers. Power that never appears in daylight. All watching. All measuring. I stepped onto the terrace with Nestore and Nevio beside me. The murmurs died instantly. I wore black. No jewels, no crown — only a thin line of silver at my
Aurora's POV By midday, the cages were gone.Not hidden. Not relocated. Gone.Rail cars stood open and empty across miles of track, doors yawning toward a sky bright with full daylight. Medical teams moved through the yard in organized lines — triaging, wrapping, lifting, cataloging names where names still existed and assigning them where they didn't. Children sat in blankets along the cleared platforms, blinking into sunlight like something emerging from underground. Some cried, some clung to rescuers, some stared at nothing.All alive.I stood on the central loading rise and watched it unfold. Smoke still drifted from distant fires — the cannery and depot now ash on the horizon, Hale's dock burning in memory and rumor. Here, the last major artery of his trade lay severed steel and open locks.It should have felt like victory. Instead it felt quiet. Heavy. Real.Because absence has weight.Nevio came up beside me first, blood streaking his sleeve, movements loose now — adrenaline eb
Aurora's POV The rail yard was awake before sunrise.Floodlights burned across miles of track and rusted freight cars. Engines idled, metal clanged, men shouted over grinding machinery as handlers tried to force evacuation under fire.And everywhere — cages. Stacked, bolted, loaded. Dozens.My vision tunneled the moment I saw them. Children packed inside steel transport crates like livestock waiting shipments. Some crying, some silent, some too still.Rage didn't spike. It settled. Cold. Perfect. I moved through it.My team advanced along the east service lane under heavy return fire from guards on catwalks and rail platforms. Bullets sparked off steel beams, tore splinters from freight siding."Snipers left the gantry!"I dropped to one knee, sighting up through the crossbeams. Two silhouettes. Wind compensation. Breath. Trigger. First fell and the Second tried to duck — too slow. He followed."Advance!"We surged forward between tracks. Handlers were already forcing cages toward op
Nevio's POV War is cleanest at the moment of ignition. Before screams, before blood smell thickens the air, before survivors start making choices they can't undo. Right now it is still math.Three targets. Three strike teams. Three simultaneous collapses of what remained of Hale's trade.I stood over the operations table while coordinates, satellite pulls, and route overlays glowed across the glass surface. Aurora leaned opposite me, palms braced on the edge, eyes moving across the three red-marked sites with predatory focus. Cannery. Trucking depot. Rail yard.Nestore entered, shrugging into a tactical jacket, radio already clipped to his collar. "Teams in position. Cannery ready. Rail yard staged. Depot convoy ten minutes out."I glanced at Aurora. "Your call."She traced the three points once more. "No survivors in the chain of trade. Any children found — priority extraction over combat.""Always," Nestore said."Then go."I went to the cannery. Nestore took the depot. Aurora took
Aurora's POV By dawn, the underworld knew.It moved the way rot spreads through wood — silent, fast, irreversible. Viktor Hale was dead. Not missing, not arrested, not vanished. Dead. Killed on his own dock, on his knees, by a woman.Rumor sharpened the details with every retelling, but the core never changed: the cages had lost their master. And something worse had taken his place.I stood in the eastern control tower as the sun bled up over the water, turning oil-slick waves into molten copper. Below, men worked through the night under Cavarallo command — inventory seizures, record extractions, fuel lines cut to trafficking vessels, holding cells forced open and emptied. Smoke already drifted from the far warehouses.Nestore appeared quietly behind me. I felt him before I heard him."You haven't slept," he said."No."He stopped beside me, gaze sweeping the docks. "They're spreading it. Fast.""I want them to." I turned toward him. "Predators only change routes when they see anothe
Nestore's POVThe sea closed over Viktor Hale like he had never existed. No splash lingered. No ripple remained. Just black water under dock lights and the faint metallic scent of blood in salt air.Aurora stood at the edge, knife hanging loose, shoulders squared, breathing steady. Hale's blood streaked her forearm, her collarbone, the front of her throat where his blade had cut earlier. She looked carved from war.Nevio and I stayed close without touching her. Not because we didn't want to — but because something had shifted in the space around her. A gravity that no longer invited shelter. It commanded it.Behind us, the compound had gone silent. Hale's remaining men weren't fighting. They were staring — some at the water, most at her. They had just watched the man who owned them die on his knees, and the one who killed him still stood. That kind of moment rewrites loyalty faster than any threat.I turned toward them. "Drop weapons." No shout, no force. Just a fact.Metal hit concre
Nevio's POV"W—what was that man saying," Ayla asked, moving to get off the bed. "Nothing, Ayla, he's just a random man; you don't have to worry about him; he's irrelevant," I countered, holding her back on the bed. "But I heard him talking about being my father, he cannot just be...""He's not y
Aurora's POV "We're home," My father's voice resounded behind me, a wide smile spread across his face.This felt like home, like the home that I wanted to come to, I felt wanted, like a human."Mr Falcone," A man called as he opened the car door for us to get down from the car."He's Adam, and if
Nestore's povI still haven’t been able to get my hands on any of the documents, they’re more discreet than you can think,” I heard Ayla’s soft whispers from a corner of her room.“Yes, I will…”I pushed the door open, not bothering to knock. She jolted, clutching her new phone and hurriedly ending
Aurora's pov Ayla—Aurora," a voice yelled from outside the room. I darted my gaze toward the door, heart hammering in my chest.And there he was. My father. The man who had been desperately searching for his daughter just days ago.He stood there in the doorway, frozen as if time had stopped for h







