LOGINI ended the call and stared at my phone for a moment. Evelyn’s words kept echoing. Things still coming. Don’t give him your whole heart. I tossed the phone onto the bed and dragged my suitcase out of the closet.I folded sweaters, then unfolded them again, my hands moving on autopilot. Geneva. Two nights. I picked up a black coat, then put it back. Lucian had almost told me what to wear earlier. The memory made my lips twitch despite everything.A knock sounded on my door.“Come in,” I said.Lucian stepped inside, already in a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up. He looked at the open suitcase, then at me.“You’re actually packing without burning the place down,” he said. “I’m impressed.”“Don’t get used to it.” I held up two pairs of boots. “Which ones make me look less like your property?”He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Both do. But the ones on the left are better for walking if we end up outside.”I raised an eyebrow. “We?”“I adjusted the schedule.” He sai
Aurora's POVThe meeting was on the fourteenth floor of a building whose name I didn't catch because Lucian hadn't told me where we were going, only that I needed to look presentable and be quiet.His exact words. Be quiet, Aurora..The room was full of men in expensive suits who all stood when Lucian walked in, which told me everything I needed to know about the kind of power he carried without announcing it. He introduced me once, "my wife" and after that I ceased to exist as a person and became a decorative fixture he occasionally glanced at to confirm I was still in the correct position.I sat. I smiled. I watched him work.And God, he was good at it.I hated how much I was paying attention.Then a grey-haired man looked at me."Aurora." Too familiar. "Lucian really is something, isn't he. You must be very proud."Before I could open my mouth, Lucian's hand was on my thigh under the table.Not moving. Just there. A weight that said don't and mine in the same breath."She is," Luci
Aurora's POVHe acted like it hadn't happened.That was the first thing I noticed the next morning, the way he sat across the breakfast table with his coffee, phone, carefully assembled distance and looked at me the way he might look at a piece of furniture he was faintly surprised to find still in the room.No acknowledgment. No reference. Nothing in his expression that admitted the previous evening had occurred at all.I poured my coffee and sat down and decided, quietly, that I was not going to be the one to bring it up. If Lucian wanted to pretend he hadn't kissed me twelve hours ago, that was his decision to make and his loss to carry. I had my own dignity and I intended to keep it.I lasted approximately four minutes."Are we not going to talk about last night," I said.He turned a page on whatever he was reading. "What about it?""What about it," I repeated. Flatly."We had a moment," he said. "It happened. It doesn't need to be discussed at breakfast."Something hot moved thro
Aurora's POVThe house had a rhythm now and I had learned to move inside it.Mornings were mine. I woke before Lucian most days or before he emerged from the study and I had the kitchen to myself for an hour with coffee.Afternoons belonged to whatever work Lucian was doing behind closed doors, which I had stopped trying to map precisely. I understood that the empire Evelyn had referenced was not the Draven name, not Sebastian's carefully constructed legacy, but something Lucian had built independently and quietly over the better part of a decade. Lucian Draven had a specific yield and it was rarely the thing you actually wanted.Evenings we spent in my same room.On the sixth evening, I was on the sitting room floor with my sketchbook."You're holding the pencil wrong," he said.I turned around. He was looking at my hand, not my drawing."I've been drawing since I was eight," I said."I know. You're still holding it wrong." He pointed out. "You grip too hard. See how your knuckles ar
Aurora's POVThree days passed without either of us acknowledging what had been said in the garden.Not because we were avoiding it or not only because of that. More because the house had settled into a rhythm that neither of us disrupted, and disrupting it felt like breaking something that was, for now, holding us both upright. We moved around each other with a careful, unspoken consideration. Meals at the same table. Coffee in the mornings. The occasional exchange that was about nothing important and therefore safe.I was learning the house. That was how I spent the days. Small things. Solid things. The kind of things you reached for when the large things were too large.On the fourth morning I came downstairs to find something on the kitchen table that hadn't been there the night before.A bowl, filled with the specific brand of honey-roasted cashews that I had eaten during the first weeks at the Draven mansion.I stood at the table and looked at the bowl for a long moment.Margare
Aurora's POVEvelyn arrived at seven.Sebastian was still in the house. He'd spent the afternoon in the study with Lucian, the door closed, voices too low to make out from the hallway. I hadn't tried to listen. I'd sat in the sitting room with the unread book.Evelyn came in from the cold with her coat still on and found me in the hallway.She stopped when she saw me. "You're alright," she said."Mostly," I said.She crossed the distance between us and took both my hands in hers, briefly, firmly, the way she'd done since I was small when she needed me to understand she was serious. Then she let go."Where is he?" she asked."Study. With Sebastian."Something shifted in her expression at that. "Sebastian is here.""He arrived this afternoon. He said he's been making enquiries." I watched her face carefully. "You don't look surprised.""I'm not," she said. "Sebastian has been moving toward this for some time. He just needed something to catalyse it." She began unbuttoning her coat. "Luc
The days were starting to blur together. I woke up every morning in that big, quiet guest room, stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, and tried to remember that this was my life now. No more waking up to Isadora’s sharp voice or Natalia’s mocking laughter. I got dressed in simple clothes again
The call came on a Thursday.I was in the middle of folding laundry… something the mansion staff would have done without being asked, but I needed something to do with my hands that morning. The folding helped. The repetition of it. Shirt, sleeve, sleeve, fold. Shirt, sleeve, sleeve, fold. A rhythm
I woke up to soft morning light through the curtains. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the familiar weight of another day in this quiet mansion. Then it hit me. Today was my birthday. Twenty-two.I sat up slowly and checked the date on the small clock by the bed. Yes.
The staircase incident stayed with me all afternoon. Every time I moved, the memory sent a confusing rush through me. I tried to read in the library, but the words blurred on the page. I tried walking in the garden, but my mind kept drifting back to the heat of his body behind mine and the rough ed







