Chapter 2

  Aurora’s POV

  

  I woke up feeling strangely energized, as if the sunlight pouring through my windows was some sort of natural caffeine.

  

  For the first time in weeks, my dreams hadn’t been haunted by strange shadows or lingering fears.

  

  Maybe today was finally going to be a good day.

  

  Stretching with a soft yawn, I pushed my covers off and padded across the polished hardwood floor to my bathroom.

  

  I went about my usual morning routine—brushing my teeth, washing my face, tying my hair into a loose bun.

  

  The familiar rituals calmed me, made me feel steady.

  

  Once I was done, I pulled on a light blue sundress and headed downstairs, the smell of breakfast already drifting through the mansion’s halls.

  

  Our house wasn’t just a house.

  

  It was a statement—an elegant, sprawling estate that had been in the Black family for generations.

  

  Massive, full of history and pride.

  

  I reached the dining room and smiled at the sight before me.

  

  My family was already seated, the table covered with silver platters of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and fresh fruit.

  

  My mother, beautiful and graceful as ever, poured tea into her cup, while my father sat at the head of the table, reading the morning newspaper.

  

  My two brothers, Alex and Jason, were arguing quietly over something trivial—most likely sports.

  

  “Good morning, family,” I chirped, feeling lighter than I had in days.

  

  I made my way around the table, dropping kisses on their heads—starting with my mother, then Jason, then Alex, and finally my father.

  

  They greeted me back warmly, a series of murmured “Good mornings” and affectionate smiles.

  

  No matter how old I got, this routine never changed.

  

  I was their only daughter, the princess of the Black family, and they treated me accordingly.

  

  Even though I constantly reminded them that I was twenty-five years old and very capable of handling myself, in their eyes, I was still the little girl who once insisted on wearing a tiara to every family dinner.

  

  Breakfast passed in easy conversation—updates about the family business, Black Enterprises, a little teasing from my brothers, my mother reminding me about an upcoming gala I needed to attend.

  

  It was all so normal that I didn’t notice at first how serious my father looked.

  

  Nor did I realize that my mother was nervously fidgeting with her napkin or that Jason and Alex had gone unusually quiet.

  

  I picked up on it when the plates were cleared and my father cleared his throat.

  

  “Aurora,” he said, his voice a little rougher than usual. “We need to speak with you. In my study.

  

  I blinked, my heart skipping a beat.

  

  “What’s wrong?”

  

  “Just come,” Jason said, rising from his seat.

  

  My stomach twisted into a knot.

  

  When the men in my family got that tone, it usually meant something serious—serious enough that they couldn’t brush it off at the breakfast table.

  

  I followed them through the wide hallways to my father’s study, a massive room lined with bookshelves and dark leather furniture.

  

  The heavy door closed behind me with a definitive thud.

  

  I perched on one of the armchairs while my father sat behind his enormous mahogany desk.

  

  Alex and Jason stood on either side of him like two bodyguards, their expressions grim.

  

  My mother sat beside me, reaching out to take my hand.

  

  “Aurora,” my father began, leaning forward, “we’ve gotten an update about the situation you reported.”

  

  My stomach tightened further.

  

  For the past few weeks, I’d had this nagging, unshakable feeling that someone was following me.

  

  I had caught glimpses of a figure out of the corner of my eye more than once.

  

  At first, I thought it was just my imagination.

  

  But it kept happening.

  

  Eventually, I confided in my father.

  

  He had immediately involved the police and private investigators.

  

  “What did they find?” I asked quietly.

  

  My father sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  

  “After careful investigation, the police confirmed that there has indeed been a man following you. He matches the description of a suspect they’ve been trying to catch for months now. They believe he’s dangerous.

  

  A cold chill ran down my spine.

  

  “But… they’ll catch him, right?”

  

  “We hope so,” Jason said, his voice unusually soft.

  

  “But they haven’t managed to so far.”

  

  I swallowed hard.

  

  “And until they do,” my father said, locking eyes with me, “we’re not taking any chances.”

  

  “What do you mean?” I asked, even though I already had a sinking feeling I knew.

  

  “You’re getting a bodyguard,” Alex said firmly.

  

  I shot to my feet.

  

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  

  All three men stared at me like I’d just lost my mind.

  

  “I can take care of myself!” I insisted. “I don’t need a babysitter!”

  

  My mother squeezed my hand tighter.

  

  “Sweetheart… please. Humor us. We’re scared for you.”

  

  I looked at her, at the genuine fear in her eyes, and my heart twisted.

  

  Still, the idea of someone following me everywhere, watching my every move, made me bristle.

  

  I had spent my whole life trying to prove that I could stand on my own two feet, and now they wanted to strip that away?

  

  “Aurora,” Jason said gently, “this isn’t just about you. If something happens to you, it will destroy us.”

  

  Alex nodded.

  

  “We wouldn’t survive it, Rory.”

  

  Hearing my childhood nickname almost undid me.

  

  I glanced at my father.

  

  The strongest man I knew.

  

  And he looked… scared.

  

  “Please, princess,” he said softly. “Do this for us.”

  

  The room swam a little before my eyes as emotion overwhelmed me.

  

  God, they weren’t being overprotective just for the sake of it.

  

  They were terrified.

  

  I sat back down slowly, pressing my hands to my knees.

  

  “Fine,” I whispered. “I’ll do it. I’ll get a bodyguard.”

  

  Relief flooded the room like a wave.

  

  My mother kissed my temple.

  

  Jason and Alex visibly relaxed, their shoulders dropping.

  

  But then, just as I was gathering my breath, my father dropped the real bomb.

  

  “Your new bodyguard starts tomorrow.”

  

  I jerked back like I’d been slapped.

  

  “WHAT?!” I exclaimed, my voice shrill.

  

  “Tomorrow morning,” my father said calmly, as if announcing the weather. “We’ve already made the arrangements.”

  

  “You didn’t even let me interview anyone!” I protested.

  

  “We handled it,” Alex said smoothly. “We made sure to choose someone highly qualified.”

  

  I opened my mouth to argue further, but the looks on their faces said it was pointless.

  

  The decision had been made.

  

  Whether I liked it or not.

  

  I slumped back into the chair, crossing my arms like a petulant teenager.

  

  “This is ridiculous,” I muttered under my breath.

  

  My father only smiled, that infuriating fatherly smile that said he knew best.

  

  Which, to be fair, he usually did.

  

  I glanced around the room—the people who loved me more than anything else in the world—and realized I couldn’t really stay mad.

  

  They weren’t doing this to control me.

  

  They were doing it because they were scared to lose me.

  

  Still, I couldn’t help but grumble as I rose from my seat.

  

  “Fine. But if he’s some old man with a beer belly, I’m firing him.”

  

  My brothers laughed, some of the tension breaking at last.

  

  “You’ll see,” Jason teased. “You might end up thanking us.”

  

  I snorted.

  

  Highly unlikely.