Spoilt beyond repair

Aurora's POV

The loud buzzing of the music coming from the speakers made me go wild, and I screamed while moving my body in sync with the music. Partying was my favorite thing, especially when there were a lot of drinks.

“Look over there, Austin has been looking at you,” Sophie called out to get my attention, pointing at Austin, the popular playboy, but I scoffed and shook my head.

“He isn't my type, Sophie,” I sighed and continued dancing. In fact, no man was my type apart from a certain someone. His thoughts flooded my mind, but I groaned and wiped them away. What was the need for wishing for someone you can never have, huh?

“Everyone freeze!” Suddenly, the music stopped, and I frowned, wondering what was happening.

“Everyone stay where you are; no one is allowed to move,” a man dressed in a police uniform commanded, and I rolled my eyes.

Over my years of clubbing, I had become used to scenes like this when the police would raid a party tracking down people with drugs.

I noticed two other people in uniform searching our bags, and I sighed, sitting on the high stool, going through my phone to keep myself busy because I knew they would take a lot of time.

“Who owns this bag?” I lifted my gaze from my phone and frowned when I realized a police officer was holding my bag.

“That is mine; is there a problem?” I asked nonchalantly.

I was done with clubbing this night. These people have ruined my already sour mood.

“Yes, young lady, we found a pack of cocaine in your bag. Do you mind explaining?” the officer asked, and I frowned.

“Excuse me?” I got down from the stool and walked to where the officers stood.

“You found what?” I asked, shocked.

“Cocaine, young lady,” he showed the pack of cocaine to me, and I frowned.

“That is not mine; I don't do drugs. How did that get into my bag?” I protested.

“Young lady, you will explain that when you get to the station, but right now, you have to come with us,” the officer demanded, but I shook my head in disapproval.

“I'm not going anywhere with you; I must call my father.” I brought out my phone to dial my father's number, but an officer snatched it away.

Before I knew it, they were placing handcuffs on me and reading me my rights. I couldn't believe what was happening. My mind raced as I tried to make sense of it all. How could I be arrested for something I didn't do?

As they escorted me out of the club, I couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal. The music still thumped in the background, but it sounded distant and muffled, as if coming from another world. My friends watched in shock as I was led away, their faces blurring with confusion and concern.

I was led into a police car, the cold metal of the seat sending shivers down my spine. The officer started the engine and drove off. Throughout the drive to the station, I couldn't make sense of what was happening. I might be a wayward child; I loved clubbing and drinking, but I had never taken drugs. It was against my upbringing.

Tears formed in my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall. I'm a strong girl and wouldn't want such a thing to break me down.

Moments later, we arrived at the police station, and I was ushered out of the van. As we walked into the station, I could fell their inquisitive gazes on me, and I felt so awkward and ashamed. I was led to sit behind the counter, and the handcuffs were taken off my wrists. An officer sat before me with a stern look on his face.

“Why don't we make this easy for the both of us, huh? You tell me where you got those stuff from, and I can see what I can do to reduce your punishment,” he offered, but I scoffed and glared at him.

“I told you I don't do drugs; I don't know how that got into my bag,” I yelled, and the officer frowned, clearly not a fan of my attitude.

“It seems you want us to do it the hard way, huh?” He threatened, but I looked away. Thankfully, I saw Father coming through the front door.

Seeing him made me feel at ease; at least I was sure of leaving anytime soon.

Father walked over to the counter; he glared at me for a moment, and I turned scarlet and looked down. He looked away and turned to ask for the officer in charge of my case.

He was directed to an officer, and the officer who was interrogating me kept asking silly questions, but I didn't respond. I just remained mute until he eventually got tired and left me alone. It didn't take long before Father came out of the office while shaking hands with the higher rank officer.

“She is free to leave,” the officer in charge announced, and I got up. Without saying a word to me, Father began walking away, and I trailed after him awkwardly.

Getting inside Dad's car, his driver started the engine, and we drove out of the station. An awkward silence filled the air, and I couldn't take it, so I decided to speak.

“Those drugs aren't mine.”

“Really?” Father scoffed in anger. “There's no need to lie about it; no one is here, the police aren't here.”

“So you don't believe me, Father? You believe I'm into drugs?” I asked, feeling heartbroken and hurt.

“I have made the worst mistake of my life, letting you live your life freely. I have spoiled you beyond repair, and look at what you have turned into. You now do drugs!” He flared with anger.

Each word stabbed at my heart like a knife.

“Tell me, who gave you those drugs? Tell me your supplier, tell me!” He yelled, and I flared up.

“There is no one. There is fucking no one!” I yelled back at Father, and a slap landed on my cheek.

My eyes widened in disbelief. Father had slapped me for the very first time. Tears welled up in my eyes, a mixture of pain, anger, and betrayal.

“I thought I raised you well, but it seems I was wrong all along,” he muttered in a disappointed tone before he turned to look out the window.

A tear dropped on my cheek, but I wiped it off and stared out the window, watching the world pass by in a blur, feeling utterly alone and misunderstood.

Eventually, we arrived home, and I stepped out of the car and ran into my room. As I entered my room, the weight of the evening crashed down on me like a tidal wave. I collapsed onto my bed, feeling the tears streaming down my face uncontrollably. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.

The betrayal from the false accusation, the disappointment in my father's eyes, and the realization that even those closest to me didn't believe in my innocence: it all felt like too much to bear. I buried my face in my hands, trying to make sense of it all.

How did those drugs get into my bag? Who could have put them in and called the police? These questions buzzed in my head, and I knew I had to get answers to them.

After a while, I was feeling thirsty, so I decided to go downstairs to get a bottle of water, but on reaching the stairs, I overheard a familiar voice speaking with Father.

Of course, I knew who it was — even in my sleep, I could easily recognize his deep, husky voice that commands power and dominance.

It made me shiver every time.

It was Sir Frederick, my Godfather.

“So where is she?” He asked, sounding displeased by the news Dad had shared with him.

I bit my lip anxiously as I took in his disappointment. For some reason, I didn't like that he was displeased with me.

“In her room. I should have done better in training her. I have spoiled her so much that she is now involved in drugs,” I overheard Father complain.

Sir Frederick was silent for a moment before he spoke. “Maybe you should cut down her monthly allowance, don't let her leave the house often, and keep some men to watch her every move,” he suggested to Father, and I frowned.

What kind of advice was that? How could he even bring such a silly suggestion?

I noticed Father was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “I have a better idea…” Father paused, and my curiosity piqued as I wondered what his better idea was.

“Why don't Aurora come stay with you, and you discipline her yourself?” Father suggested, and my eyes widened.

Hell no!