Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 31 - Chapitre 40

(AURIANNA'S POV)I tell myself I'm not going to let last night mess with my head.I've been trained to face the deadliest of my missions, seduce targets, and extract secrets from politicians who think they're untouchable. Surely I can survive a little humiliation.So I put on my most formal blouse, tie my hair back into a no-nonsense ponytail, and walk downstairs like the damn professional that I am.The smell of freshly brewed coffee and toasted croissants fills the dining room. A line of staff glide around the table, placing plates of eggs, bacon, and fruit bowls like some fancy hotel buffet. Brielle's sitting in her usual spot, legs swinging under the chair, coloring something in a notebook.Zayne's at the head of the table, scrolling through his phone, wearing a gray shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his forearms flexing just enough to make my brain short-circuit.Focus, Astranova. You are not looking at that man's arms. You are looking at the orange juice.Yes. The orange juice.

(AURIANNA'S POV)I'm sitting on the couch in the living room, pretending to watch some random cooking show, but my brain's not cooperating. The chef on TV is yelling about burnt risotto, and all I can think about is the fact that it's been twenty goddamn minutes since Zayne and those two women went upstairs.Twenty. Minutes.I shift on the sofa, grab my phone, scroll through nothing, lock it, unlock it again, then glance up at the staircase. The silence in this house is ridiculous. I can hear the ticking of the clock on the wall and the low hum of the AC, but not a single sound from upstairs.Not that I'm listening for anything, obviously. I'm just... aware.I try to focus on the TV again, pretending I don't care. Pretending I'm perfectly fine sitting here while he's upstairs entertaining his little fan club.But my chest feels tight. My stomach feels weird.I tell myself to mind my damn business. I'm a professional. Whatever Zayne Beaumont does in his free time isn't my concern. He's

(AURIANNA'S POV)Zayne steps carefully into the bathroom, dodging the small trail of blood I'd left on the tiles. He crouches right in front of me, his green eyes scanning my face before dropping to my foot."Let me see," he says softly.I hesitate, gripping the tissue tighter. "It's fine-"He shakes his head. "Aurianna." His tone is firm but calm, and before I can argue again, his fingers brush over mine and he gently pries my hand away.The moment he sees the cut, his jaw tightens. "Jesus," he mutters under his breath. "That's deep."He looks at the soggy piece of tissue I've been pressing against it and lets out a quiet sigh. "These won't do anything. You're just making a bloody mess."I scoff, half embarrassed, half defensive. "Well, forgive me for not having a medical degree."He ignores the sarcasm, standing up quickly. "Stay here. Keep putting pressure on it.""Where are you-"But before I can finish, he's already gone, leaving me sitting there, clutching my foot and biting dow

(AURIANNA'S POV)By the time I finally step out of my room, it's been... I don't even know. Hours. Long enough for the sun to shift, long enough for my adrenaline to burn out and leave nothing but throbbing pain and humiliation behind.My foot aches, the pain travelling up my leg with every step I take, but I grit my teeth and keep moving anyway because lying in bed replaying everything that happened in that room was torture.Pure, suffocating torture.I have to find him. I need to set things straight before this whole damn house collapses under the weight of this weird tension between us.I limp down the hallway, past the massive windows, gripping the handrail every few steps. The mansion is quiet-eerily quiet. No staff in sight. No Brielle's laughter echoing from anywhere. It feels like the house is holding its breath.Or maybe I'm the one holding mine.I check the living room. Empty.The kitchen. Empty.Finally, when I force myself toward the bar room-because where the hell else wo

(AURIANNA'S POV)By the time morning rolls around, I've buried myself in the only distraction that still works.Pain.I'm in Zayne's home gym, AirPods in, music blasting in my ears, trying to sweat out every messy thought still stuck in my head from last night. My muscles burn, my lungs feel like they're on fire, but it's the kind of burn that keeps me grounded.Weights.Cardio.More weights.Anything to keep my mind quiet.Eventually I end up at the punching bag, slamming my fists into the leather with more force than necessary. Every punch sends a sharp jolt through my knuckles, but I welcome it. Hell, I need it.I'm mid-swing when I feel a light tap on my back.On instinct, I spin around, ready to attack, but instead of danger, I'm met with Brielle. She's standing there in her little pajama shorts and messy morning hair, smiling up at me like she didn't just scare the hell out of a trained operative.I pull out my AirPods. "Hey. What are you doing down here?""I've been watching yo