---
Elara stared at the letter in her hand, her fingers trembling.
"Your mother lied… they own you."
The words pulsed like poison.
Her heart pounded as she looked toward the hallway, wondering if Aurora had already read it. Her pulse spiked when she noticed the door to Aurora's guest room was ajar. Empty.
She shoved the letter into the drawer and rushed downstairs, only to hear a voice—low, deadly, and terrifying.
"Tell me," Aurora said to Isadora, seated casually at the breakfast table, "when did you start sniffing around my girl?"
Isadora didn't flinch. "When your girl looked like she needed someone who wasn't emotionally unstable."
Elara froze.
Aurora chuckled darkly. "So that's what you think I am? Unstable?" She leaned forward, voice dropping to a whisper. "You've never seen me mad yet, darling. But you're about to."
-
Before Elara could interrupt, a loud crash echoed through the villa—glass shattering.
Aurora had knocked over a vintage bottle of wine, red liquid spreading like blood across the white marble floor.
Isadora stood. "This is ridiculous. You act like you own her."
Aurora's eyes snapped up. "I do."
Elara gasped, stepping forward. "Aurora, stop!"
But Aurora didn't even look at her. Her voice was low and ragged. "Did you tell her, Isadora? About what her uncle really did to my family? About how she's the heir to a business that destroyed mine?"
Isadora's lips parted. "You knew?"
Aurora stared at Elara. "Of course I did. I've always known who you were, Elara. I just didn't care. I wanted you anyway."
Elara's knees weakened. "You used me?"
"No," Aurora whispered. "I loved you. But I also wanted revenge. At first. Until you made me feel again."
---
Elara's world tilted.
Everything blurred—her uncle, her mother's lies, the West name.
"You played me."
"I didn't mean to," Aurora rasped. "I just… couldn't stop."
"And now what?" Elara whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "You're going to hurt everyone who ever cared about me? Isadora? My family? Me?"
Aurora stepped closer. "You already know the answer to that."
Elara backed away. "Don't follow me."
But Aurora didn't move. She just whispered:
"If you walk away now, you'll always wonder how far I would've gone for you."
---
That night, Elara couldn't sleep. She lay in her bed, the letter beside her, her body tense, burning, restless.
A soft knock startled her.
She didn't answer.
The door creaked open anyway.
Aurora stood in the doorway, barefoot, her black silk robe clinging to her body.
"I shouldn't be here," she said softly.
"Then don't come closer."
Aurora did anyway.
"Elara…" Her voice cracked. "I can't fix what I broke. But I'll ruin more if it means you'll stay."
She sat on the edge of the bed, fingers grazing Elara's arm.
"Don't touch me," Elara whispered, even as her breath hitched.
"Then push me away."
Elara didn't.
Aurora leaned down, lips brushing her ear. "You think I came to steal your heart. But baby… I already have it."
Their lips met—desperate, painful, intoxicating. But just as Elara moaned into her mouth—
Aurora pulled away.
Again.
"Why do you always stop?" Elara gasped, heart aching.
Aurora's voice was hollow. "Because every time I kiss you like this… I forget why I shouldn't."
---
Later that night, Aurora found herself wandering the villa's abandoned wine cellar. She pushed open a sealed wooden door… and found documents.
Hundreds of them.
Ownership papers. Accounts. Old letters.
At the bottom of the pile—a birth certificate.
Elara West.
Mother: Charlotte West.
Father: Classified.
Aurora's jaw tightened. "What the hell…?"
Suddenly, a voice behind her. "You weren't supposed to find that."
She turned.
Isadora.
Gun pointed at her chest.
---
Isadora's voice was calm. "You came for revenge. But what if I came for the same thing?"
Aurora stared down the barrel, lips curling. "Then shoot. But if you miss… I swear on her name, you won't survive the night."
---