Mag-log inAurora's pov
"Diego," I called, crawling after him, my knees scraping the jagged floor of the house.
"Please let me keep this baby, I'll do anything you want, derive it if everything you own, I—I won't make any noise about you and Lillian, please just let me keep this one..." I begged, my throat clutching at the desperate plea to him.
He stared down at me, running his eyes considerably over my already ragged body before speaking.
"Okay."
"Okay," That one word sounded like he was giving me a lease on life, to let me keep our child...his child.
"T—thank you," I muttered, grabbing his feet as I bowed down to him.
He yanked his feet from my grasp and turned to me, staring down at me.
"I'm bringing Lillian back to the house with me tonight, I need you to make her favorite broccoli and sausage, if she makes one complaint, you won't lose that baby but I'll make you wish that you did," He threatened before walking out of the room.
I dragged my battered body up from the floor, taking in frantically the air that I'd been deprived of as Diego Walker out of the room, while I pushed myself up to the kitchen, wiping the tears that dripped down my face.
Now wasn't the time to cry, he'd already allowed me to keep the baby, and there was nothing else I could want... Except that there was a lot more that I wanted.
My body ached with each move I made, cutting and cleaning the kitchen that carried the stench of their lovemaking.
I wiped another line of tears away with the back of my hands and started cooking.
I couldn't bear it if Diego carried out his threat.
A few hours later
I'd taken out the last meal from the cooker when the door was flung open, I could hear Lillian's chuckles accompanied by Diego's hearty laughter as they made their way into the room.
My body tensed with every move they made closer to the kitchen, and I could only dish the meals before they reached me.
"I swear, thank your Stars you had this made before I came back with Lillian, you know very well what the consequences were," He gruffed, taking in the aroma of the food.
Lillian rolled her eyes and walked back out with Diego while I carried the meal after them, the plate burning into my hands from the heat of the food.
I placed the food on the table, while Diego and Lillian stared like I was sort of their maid.
"Where's the water?" Diego asked, raising his voice.
"I—I..."
"Shut the stupid fuck up and bring the water, do you want me to die from thirst!" He yelled again, making me flinch before hurrying to bring them water.
I placed the jug full of water on the table and watched as Lillian took a spoon to eat.
"Wait baby," Diego said, staring at me.
"Come and have a taste of this food," He said, taking me by surprise.
"W—what?" I asked, unsure of what was happening.
"Are you mad? Come take a spoon out of this food. I can't trust you to not have poisoned it," Diego snapped, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
My heart pounded violently in my chest. Poison? Did he really think I’d try something like that? I wanted to scream, to remind him that I was the one who begged to keep his child, that I had nothing left but this tiny life inside me. But I knew better than to argue.
With shaky hands, I stepped forward, picking up a spoon from the table. Lillian watched me with a smirk, swirling her wine in her glass like this was some sort of twisted entertainment.
"Eat," Diego ordered.
I dipped the spoon into the broccoli and sausage, my stomach twisting into knots. The food was still hot, burning the tip of my tongue as I forced it down.
"Swallow," he barked.
I obeyed, gulping it down past the lump in my throat. It tasted like ash, like the remains of my pride disintegrating inside me.
Diego watched me for a long moment before leaning back with a satisfied grunt. "Good girl," he muttered. "Now get out of my sight."
I turned away quickly, barely able to keep my steps steady as I made my way back to the kitchen. The moment I was out of their view, I clutched the counter, my body trembling with exhaustion and humiliation.
I couldn't live like this...
I barely walked a few steps away from them when I felt a tight, hot, burning grip on my stomach.
"Fuck..." I muttered, my forehead bridling with sweat almost immediately.
"P—please help me," I begged to the extent my voice could allow.
My body churned with inexplicable pain and I clutched my stomach, the pain so sharp it felt like something inside me was being ripped apart. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the cold floor, gasping for breath.
"Please... I think something's wrong," I whimpered, but my voice came out weak, barely above a whisper.
Diego stood up menacingly slowly and walked towards me together with Lillian, their eyes glinting with something I couldn't read—happiness.
"I think it's working already," Lillian said, leaning closer to Diego.
My eyes narrowed, trying to put a meaning to her words.
"I didn't know it was that effective, now watch..." Diego added, both of them smiling at my miserable state.
My head banged with extreme pain, sweat bridling down my face, and slowly... I felt a sticky liquid drip from my thighs.
A choked sob escaped my lips as realization dawned on me. They did this.
The food. The water. They poisoned me.
I tried to move, to crawl away, but my limbs refused to obey. The pain in my stomach intensified, twisting like a knife carving through my insides. I gasped for air, but it felt like I was drowning, my body sinking into an abyss of agony.
Lillian giggled, tucking a strand of perfect blonde hair behind her ear as she watched me suffer. "See, baby? I told you it wouldn’t take long."
Diego crouched beside me, gripping my chin between his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. His dark eyes were void of emotion, only amusement dancing within them. "Did you really think I’d let you keep it?" he sneered. "That bastard inside you? That mistake?"
A sob tore through me. My baby. No. No, no, no!
"Please," I gasped, the word barely leaving my lips. "Please, don’t do this. I’ll leave. I won’t say anything. Just let me—"
Diego’s grip tightened, cutting off my words. "It’s already done," he whispered, his voice cold, final.
A fresh wave of pain crashed over me, and I screamed. My body convulsed, my vision darkening around the edges. I felt the warm trickle of blood pooling beneath me, the sickening sensation of my baby's life slipping away.
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
Aurora's POV "What shall we do with her, Don? She looks like she's going to escape...""Do you even have to ask me any of those questions? Brand her like the rest, have her thrown into the club, and make sure she gets something doing, get the drugs and erase her memory,""N—no no, please, I'll beh
Nestore's POV "I'll make sure of it," I said, too ashamed to look her in the eye. "We'll prove ourselves to you, Mr Falcone, make sure we take care of everything before we step back into this place," Nevio said, bowing before nudging me to leave.We walked out of the room, our chests heavy, but a
Aurora's POV "Dera, Ivy and I made plans to escape after managing to gather the left over drugs used on the other girls," I started as the memories came flooding back in my brain."I brought the idea up and after managing to get the men drugged and passed out, we snuck through the secret tunnel I
"Sir," One of my father's men knocked before walking into the room and I watched him whisper into my father's ears."How the fuck did you let them in!" He growled and I was beginning to have an inkling of who it might be."They said it's a matter of life and death, Mr Falcone, of the missus' life,"







