The mansion was quiet—too quiet.
Aurora's bare feet ghosted across the marble floor, her robe cinched tightly around her waist as if it could hold her anxiety in place. The message had burned itself into her thoughts, replaying again and again.
You're not safe there. He's lying to you. I can prove it. Meet me. Alone.
She hadn't responded.
She hadn't dared.
Not yet.
But the silence in the house was louder than any warning. Rafael had gone to a late-night meeting. His guards were stationed outside, none inside. He'd insisted on giving her space.
A small part of her had almost believed it was genuine.
Almost.
She stood by the window now, phone gripped tightly, the city lights glowing like fireflies below. Somewhere in that darkness, someone was waiting for her. Someone who claimed to know more about Rafael's secrets.
She didn't know why she believed them.
Maybe it was because lies had become her only language in this world.
