Aurora’s feet dragged across the pavement, exhaustion gnawing at her bones as she walked home from the hospital. The nurse’s words still echoed in her mind. Her mother needed immediate treatment, or she would die. Her head felt like it was about to burst as she racked her brain for a way to get the money.
And she had until morning to come up with an impossible amount. What should she do? But as she turned the last corner toward their tiny apartment, her steps slowed. A black sedan sat in front of their crumbling home. Her stomach twisted. This kind of feeling—it always came when she was in danger. She didn’t know why, but a sudden wave of unease gripped her the moment she spotted the suspicious car. Near the vehicle stood Felix, his hunched frame unusually stiff. Surrounding him were three tall men in black suits, their sharp gazes piercing the night. One look at them, and it was obvious that they weren’t good men. Felix was talking to them intently. Negotiating. His fingers twitched, his body language reeking of desperation. Aurora froze. This is bad. This is really, really bad. Despite the growing alarm in her chest, she still took a cautious step forward. Her voice barely above a whisper. “Dad?” The men in black turned toward her in unison, their expressions stern, their presence commanding silence. Felix’s eyes darted to her, and for a fleeting second, something flickered in them. Was it guilt? Or a twisted sense of satisfaction? Then, his lips curled into a cruel smirk. “There she is.” His voice was unbothered, almost amused. “Take her.” Aurora’s world tilted. What did he mean by that? “What?” she whispered, her voice cracking with disbelief and horror. One of the men stepped forward, his tone devoid of emotion. “Your father has settled his debt. You are the payment.” Her chest tightened. She knew it. How could her own father do this to her? She was his daughter, his flesh and blood! Aurora turned to Felix, horrified. “Dad—you can’t do this… I’m your daughter!” Felix sighed, rolling his eyes. “Oh, grow up, Aurora. You’ve been living under my roof for nineteen years. At least now, you’ll finally be of some use.” The words slammed into her harder than any beating he had ever given her. Aurora’s lungs constricted. Her fingers shook. Of some use? She had spent her entire life suffering for this man enduring his gambling, his beatings, his cruelty. She had worked endless hours to pay off his debts. And now, he was simply selling her? Felix’s sneer deepened. “You act so shocked,” he scoffed. “You’re not even my real daughter.” Aurora staggered back, her breath hitching. “What?” Felix smirked, crossing his arms. “That’s right. You were already crawling around when Maria and I found you by the river. You’re nothing to me.” Aurora’s body turned cold. Her entire existence and her entire life, it had been a lie. Another brutal blow. She wanted to scream, to demand the truth. Why was heaven punishing her this much? But before she could react, strong hands grabbed her arms. “No.. NO! LET ME GO!” She thrashed violently, but the men were too strong. Felix didn’t even flinch. He simply turned away, spitting on the ground. “At least now, you won’t be a useless mouth to feed.” And just like that, she was dragged away. ____ The luxury car sped through the city, but Aurora barely noticed. Her mind reeled, spinning in turmoil. Her father...No, Felix wasn’t even her real father. And now, she was being delivered like prey to the lion’s den. When the car finally stopped, she was hauled out and escorted into a grand, high-end hotel. Aurora barely registered the marble floors, the golden chandeliers, the heavy scent of wealth. She was too numb. She was shoved into an elevator, then down a lavish hallway. Then, a massive suite. Aurora stumbled inside, and then she saw him. An old man. Fat. Wrinkled. Reeking of expensive cologne and arrogance. His thin lips curled into a smirk. Aurora’s stomach twisted in revulsion. The way his beady eyes drank her in made her skin crawl. It was terrifying. Disgusting. “She’s quite the prize,” the old man chuckled, swirling his wine. “Felix never mentioned how beautiful you were.” Aurora stiffened. Her throat closed up. She stepped back. “Stay away from me.” The old man laughed. “Oh, don’t be so shy. I own you now.” Aurora’s chest heaved. Nervousness and dread overwhelmed her as terrifying possibilities ran through her mind. If anything happened tonight, this would be the worst nightmare of her life. “I am not a property!” she spat. The old man sighed, setting his wine down. “You’re young. You’ll learn.” His disgusting gaze dragged across her frame, lingering in a way that made her want to vomit. “You know,” he mused, tilting his head, “girls like you should be grateful. I can give you anything. Wealth, luxury, pleasure.” "I’d rather die,” she retorted firmly. The old man’s smirk deepened. “Is that so?” He stepped closer. Aurora backed away, her entire body screaming in panic. She had to escape. She had to, no matter what. Her eyes darted wildly around the room. Then there, she saw it. A glass vase on the table. Without thinking, she lunged for it. She grabbed the vase and smashed it against the wall with all her might. Glass shattered into pieces. Before anyone could react, she snatched a jagged shard and pressed it against her wrist. Her hands trembled, but her voice was fierce. “If you touch me, I’ll commit suicide.” She meant it. Her life was already meaningless anyway. It wouldn’t be a loss if she died now. The old man paused. Then, he laughed sinisterly. “You think I care?” he sneered. “I already bought you.” Aurora’s heart pounded violently, but she didn’t waver. She pressed the shard deeper, her smooth skin splitting open. The cut wasn’t deep, but fresh blood oozed out. “I’ll die before you can touch me,” she spat bravely, her lips already losing color. Until... BANG! The door slammed open. Aurora gasped. The entire room filled with men in black. And then, he stepped inside. A tall figure. Broad-shouldered. Exuding power. His presence sucked the air from the room. His gray eyes were sharp. Cold. Dangerous. The old man trembled. “M-Mr. Moore..” Aurora barely heard him. This man… he was different. He didn’t even look at the old man. His gaze locked onto her, sharp as a blade. Something flickered in his eyes. Recognition? Interest? Or possession? His voice was calm. Too calm. “You don’t have to do that.” Aurora’s fingers trembled around the glass shard. She didn’t trust anyone. But this man.. this stranger who had appeared out of nowhere was looking at her like she belonged to him. Could she trust him? Honestly, she had nothing left to lose. Grayson stepped forward, effortlessly plucking the glass from her fingers. And she let him. Because whatever fate awaited her now, it would no longer be in the hands of monsters.The entire suite fell in a suffocating tension. Aurora’s wrist burned, but she barely felt it anymore. Her pulse was erratic as she stared at the imposing man before her. His presence was overwhelming, his gaze piercing–a shade of gray that felt like it could see right through her. There was something about him, something peculiar… something that pulled her in, even though every instinct screamed at her to run.Without a word, he took the sharp shard from her trembling fingers and tossed it aside."M-Mr. Moore, this is a misunderstanding," the old man stammered, his voice cracking. "I–I had no idea she was under your protection."Aurora's breath hitched. Under his protection?Grayson remained indifferent to the man's pathetic attempts at explaining himself. Instead, he pulled a crisp white handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around Aurora’s bleeding wrist. His fingers were cold, steady, yet surprisingly gentle.Aurora flinched at the unexpected contact. "Who... who are you?" s
Aurora’s heart pounded violently as Grayson’s words echoed in her head."Tonight, you’re mine."His gray eyes burned into hers—cold, unwavering, yet consuming.She took a shaky step back, fear coiling deep in her gut. What awaited her? Her mind raced for an escape, but the sheer presence of him, the way he loomed over her with absolute command, held her rooted in place. His touch still lingered on her wrist, a chilling reminder that she was no longer free.“W–What do you mean by that?” her voice barely above a whisper.Grayson tilted his head slightly, studying her like a puzzle he had already solved. “Exactly what I said.”Aurora clenched her fists, pulse erratic. Why does everyone think they own her?“I am not some object you can claim,” she protested firmly.His smirk was slow, deliberate. “Yet here you are. In my home. Wearing my jacket. Breathing under my roof.”He stepped forward, his tall frame swallowing the space between them. “Tell me, Aurora. What does that make you?”Her
The morning of the next day.. Aurora sat behind the long and polished table. The breakfast spread before her untouched. Golden croissants, eggs cooked to perfection, a platter of sliced fruits, and a cup of hot milk sat neatly in front of her. Yet, she had no appetite. Her chest tightened with worry about her mother’s hospitalization. The deadline had come. If she could not pay the down payment this morning, the hospital would discharge her mother. She clutched the fabric of her dress under the table, gathering her courage before speaking. "I need to go to the hospital today." Across from her, Grayson continued scrolling through emails on his phone, seemingly unaffected by her words. Dressed in a crisp black shirt, his sleeves rolled up slightly, revealing strong forearms, he exuded effortless power. Even in silence, his presence dominated the room. Seconds passed before he finally set his phone down. His steel-gray eyes met hers— cold and piercing. "You cannot leave." Aurora
Grayson’s kiss was possessive. Almost hungry. When he finally pulled away, he didn’t smile. He didn’t laugh. His eyes were dark with something far more dangerous. Was it ownership? "I don’t like disobedience," he said quietly, his voice low and cold as ever. Aurora was breathless, her chest heaving. Thoughts tangled in her mind, incoherent and wild. He had kissed her. The sensation still lingered on her lips, burning, impossible to ignore. Her world had tilted, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted it to right itself again. He released her, straightening to his full height, his gaze lingering-- piercing, unable to decipher. And just like that, he turned and walked toward the door, as if nothing had happened. The soft click of the door shutting behind him left Aurora frozen in the silence, her lips still tingling from his kiss. She could still feel the weight of his gaze. Still taste the remnants of him on her lips. She should be angry. She should feel violated. But she didn’t. All
"WHO told you to go and work in the kitchen?"Grayson's voice cut through the air, sharp and absolute. His gray eyes bore into Aurora, pinning her in place.She swallowed, lowering her gaze. He was too handsome—and too intimidating to look at for long."No one," she murmured, her fingers nervously twisting together.A touch—light but firm, tipped her chin up. She flinched subconsciously.Grayson’s fingers held her still, forcing her to meet his eyes."Then what were you doing there?" His voice remained void of warmth.Aurora's breath faltered. Her lips parted, but the weight of his gaze left her struggling for words."I–I just wanted to…" she faltered, then forced herself to finish. "To make you a simple breakfast… as a token of gratitude for saving my mother."For a fraction of a second, something flickered behind his eyes—too quick to catch. Then, it was gone.He hadn’t expected that.She still saw it as a favor. She still thanked him, despite knowing she was nothing more than his c
Night had fallen over the estate.The mansion, always too silent, felt even colder without the usual clinking of silverware from the dining room. Grayson sat alone at the head of the long table. His posture remained proud, as always, but his eyes were distant, his jaw locked with quiet tension. The meal in front of him sat untouched. The wine in his glass reflected the dim chandelier overhead, swirling gently each time he shifted slightly in his seat.But his focus wasn’t on any of it.His gaze kept drifting toward the empty chair across from him.Aurora hadn’t come down for dinner.He told himself it didn’t matter. She was just a girl he had brought here—a piece of a much bigger plan. Her presence, or lack of it, shouldn't affect him.Yet it did.His knuckles tightened around the edge of the table, the quiet pressure revealing more than he would ever admit.“Shall I check on Miss Scott, sir?” Edith’s voice was soft,
Early the next morning…A dull throb pulsed at Aurora’s temples as she stirred awake. Her limbs felt heavy, as if she were wading through fog, and yet her head felt weightless—light in the most disorienting way.The soft glow of morning light spilled in through the sheer curtains. Everything felt unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. The fever was gone, leaving only the heaviness of deep exhaustion behind. She shifted slightly beneath the covers—and that was when she noticed it.The damp cloth resting on her forehead.The comforter, neatly tucked around her.And the faint, distinct scent of a man’s cologne.Her heart jumped. That scent… it was his.Memories stirred—hazy and fragmented. Warm hands. A low voice coaxing her to drink something bitter. The sound of her name spoken in a tone that almost felt… gentle.She blinked hard. No, it couldn’t be.Grayson Moore didn’t do tenderness.A soft knock broke the quiet. B
Grayson sat still in the quiet dining hall long after Aurora had left, his gaze fixed on the spot where she had disappeared. Her footsteps had been light, but he had noticed the stiffness in her posture—the way her shoulders had tensed ever so slightly, the way her back had straightened not out of pride, but pain.He should’ve looked away by now.But he didn’t.Something in the way she had reacted to his earlier words—it lingered. Unsettling. Not because she had snapped or shouted. She hadn’t even said much. But there had been that flicker in her eyes. A softness that had folded in on itself. Hurt. Quiet and unspoken.Was she… disappointed?He scoffed at the thought, leaning back in his chair as he brought the porcelain cup to his lips, though he didn’t drink. The warmth of the tea had long faded, much like the false sense of detachment he had tried to maintain.Aurora Scott, that fragile thing he had pulled out of the darkn
The drive from Sunnydale to Harford City passed in a haze.Grayson sat silently in the back of his sleek black Rolls-Royce, eyes watching the scenery flash by, though he wasn’t really seeing any of it. The peaceful ocean views of Sunnydale slowly faded away, replaced by the towering skyline of Harford—buildings standing tall where there were once open skies and sea.His fingers tapped lightly against the soft leather seat. His mind wasn’t still. Last night had been a mess. He wasn’t the type to drink much, but last night he had gone too far. The thoughts he had tried to bury came clawing back the moment the alcohol hit his system. And Aurora—her presence in his life—was doing things to him he hadn’t expected. She made him restless. Unfocused. Vulnerable.Leaning back, he closed his eyes for a second. His body was heavy with exhaustion, and his stomach turned from the alcohol, but he kept himself steady. Showing weakness wasn't an option. Not for him.
Aurora didn’t move.She just sat there, her fingers clutching the fabric of her pajama top like she was trying to hold herself together. The room still smelled like him—strong, dark, and impossible to ignore. His scent lingered, but his words had been colder than anything she’d ever felt."Don’t mistake this for anything more than what it was."The way he said it, so flat and cold, kept replaying in her head. Her chest ached, even though she told herself it shouldn’t. She’d known what kind of man Grayson Moore was. He didn’t feel. He didn’t love. He didn’t care. But that didn’t stop her from hoping—just a little—that maybe it meant more.A shaky breath slipped out of her lips.She looked toward the door, half-expecting it to open again. Maybe he’d come back, say something that would take back the weight of those words. But the room stayed quiet. Painfully quiet.With a soft breath, she pulled the blanket up around her body and curled
Aurora’s breath trembled as Grayson’s hand cupped her gently, his palm warm against her skin. She froze for a second, heart racing, unsure of what to do or what this even meant—but her body answered for her. It leaned in, soft and uncertain, reacting to him in a way she didn’t understand.His thumb brushed over her sensitive peak, and she gasped softly, eyes fluttering shut. A quiet sound slipped past her lips—so soft it barely reached the air, yet loud enough to pull something deep from him.Grayson exhaled sharply, his breathing growing heavier as he stared at her flushed face. Her lips were parted, eyes half-lidded, her chest rising and falling beneath her pajama top. She looked like temptation, wrapped in innocence.But she didn’t move away.She let him touch her.And that broke something in him.His lips left hers, trailing down slowly. He kissed the line of her jaw, then lower—pressing his mouth to the side of her neck, just above her collarbone. She shivered under him, fingers
After their quiet lunch at a high-end restaurant, Grayson didn’t take her back to the estate. Instead, he drove toward the city, not saying a word. Aurora didn’t ask where they were going—she simply sat beside him, glancing at him now and then, watching the light catch on his sharp profile. He looked calm, but there was something in his silence that's hard to understand. When they pulled up in front of an amusement park, Aurora blinked in confusion. He parked the car and got out, walking around to open her door like it was nothing out of the ordinary. She hesitated, surprised, before stepping out. “You brought me here?” she asked softly, staring at the colorful lights in the distance. Grayson didn’t respond with words. He simply nodded once and started walking. The amusement park was filled with laughter, lights, and the sound of rides whirring in the background. Children ran past them with cotton candy in their hands, couples laughed hand in hand. It was the kind of place Au
Aurora stepped into the hospital room, her chest tightening at the sight before her. Her mother lay still against the stark white sheets, a pale shadow of the vibrant woman she used to know. The rhythmic beep of the monitor was the only sound filling the room.“Mom…” Her voice wavered as she approached, her hand reaching out instinctively, craving reassurance.Maria’s eyes fluttered open. For a moment, confusion clouded her gaze before a faint smile tugged at her lips. “Rory…”Aurora sat beside her, gently clasping her mother’s frail hand. There was warmth there, but it didn’t soothe the ache clawing at her heart. “Thank God you’re okay,” she whispered, her voice thick. “I was so scared…”Maria’s fingers barely curled around hers in return. “I waited for you,” she murmured. “Where have you been? You look… different.”Aurora froze. Different? She glanced down at herself—at the silk blouse, the subtle makeup, the po
Aurora sat by the window, swathed in a thick shawl, her gaze lingering on the soft melancholy of autumn. Leaves danced on the breeze, golden and rusted, brushing across the ground like whispers. The air was crisp, and the late morning light streamed through the glass, soaking her pale skin in a fragile warmth. Her breakfast lay untouched on the tray beside her. She hadn’t had the appetite—not since last night. Her body still felt drained from the fever, her thoughts just as heavy.All night, she’d stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Grayson lingered in her mind like a shadow she couldn’t shake. The way his hand had touched her forehead—gentle, almost protective—felt at odds with everything else about him. His words had remained distant. Cold. Like a wall built from silence and steel. Nothing about him made sense.A sudden knock jolted her from the spiral of thoughts.Before she could speak, the heavy oak door creaked open.Grayson stepped
Grayson sat still in the quiet dining hall long after Aurora had left, his gaze fixed on the spot where she had disappeared. Her footsteps had been light, but he had noticed the stiffness in her posture—the way her shoulders had tensed ever so slightly, the way her back had straightened not out of pride, but pain.He should’ve looked away by now.But he didn’t.Something in the way she had reacted to his earlier words—it lingered. Unsettling. Not because she had snapped or shouted. She hadn’t even said much. But there had been that flicker in her eyes. A softness that had folded in on itself. Hurt. Quiet and unspoken.Was she… disappointed?He scoffed at the thought, leaning back in his chair as he brought the porcelain cup to his lips, though he didn’t drink. The warmth of the tea had long faded, much like the false sense of detachment he had tried to maintain.Aurora Scott, that fragile thing he had pulled out of the darkn
Early the next morning…A dull throb pulsed at Aurora’s temples as she stirred awake. Her limbs felt heavy, as if she were wading through fog, and yet her head felt weightless—light in the most disorienting way.The soft glow of morning light spilled in through the sheer curtains. Everything felt unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. The fever was gone, leaving only the heaviness of deep exhaustion behind. She shifted slightly beneath the covers—and that was when she noticed it.The damp cloth resting on her forehead.The comforter, neatly tucked around her.And the faint, distinct scent of a man’s cologne.Her heart jumped. That scent… it was his.Memories stirred—hazy and fragmented. Warm hands. A low voice coaxing her to drink something bitter. The sound of her name spoken in a tone that almost felt… gentle.She blinked hard. No, it couldn’t be.Grayson Moore didn’t do tenderness.A soft knock broke the quiet. B
Night had fallen over the estate.The mansion, always too silent, felt even colder without the usual clinking of silverware from the dining room. Grayson sat alone at the head of the long table. His posture remained proud, as always, but his eyes were distant, his jaw locked with quiet tension. The meal in front of him sat untouched. The wine in his glass reflected the dim chandelier overhead, swirling gently each time he shifted slightly in his seat.But his focus wasn’t on any of it.His gaze kept drifting toward the empty chair across from him.Aurora hadn’t come down for dinner.He told himself it didn’t matter. She was just a girl he had brought here—a piece of a much bigger plan. Her presence, or lack of it, shouldn't affect him.Yet it did.His knuckles tightened around the edge of the table, the quiet pressure revealing more than he would ever admit.“Shall I check on Miss Scott, sir?” Edith’s voice was soft,