Chapter 11 The Edge of Ruin

AURORA

The house was too quiet.

Silence had different meanings in the Sinclair estate.

Sometimes, it meant safety.

Other times, it meant danger.

Tonight, it felt like a warning.

Aurora moved carefully, bare feet gliding over the marble floor as she descended the grand staircase. The air was thick-oppressive. She shouldn't be out of her room, but something inside her told her if she stayed, if she obeyed, she would lose something she could never get back.

Her father's office door was ajar.

Voices. Low and urgent.

"...finalizing the deal. He'll be expecting her soon."

A rustle of papers.

A sharp inhale.

Then her father's voice. Cold. Certain. "She's ready."

Aurora's stomach twisted.

She had always known.

Known that she was nothing more than a carefully preserved prize, a pawn in Richard Sinclair's power plays.

But hearing it?

Hearing the finality in his voice?

It sent ice through her veins.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of her nightgown as her vision blurred.

She needed to move.

She needed to-

"Are you lost," little girl?"

The voice came from behind her.

Aurora froze.

Slowly, she turned.

One of her father's mèn leaned against the hallway wall, arms crossed, a smirk twisting his lips.

Graham.

He was newer. But she had seen him watching her. Waiting.

He took a slow step forward, gaze dragging over her body in a way that made her skin crawl.

"You shouldn't be sneaking around at night," he murmured. "A pretty little thing like you... might end up in the wrong hands."

Aurora forced herself to swallow her fear.

She had spent years surviving men like him.

She wasn't about to break now.

Graham reached out, fingers ghosting over her wrist.

And then-

A shadow moved.

Before Aurora could react, an arm wrapped around Graham's throat from behind in a smooth, effortless motion.

There was no sound. No struggle.

One second, Graham was alive.

The next

His body went limp.

Aurora's breath stalled in her chest as he slumped to the floor, unmoving.

Aurora's breath stalled in her chest as he slumped to the floor, unmoving.

Lucian stood over him, his expression unreadable.

His breathing was steady.

Unbothered.

Aurora's gaze darted between him and Graham's still form.

There was no blood. No mess.

It had been clean.

A professional kill.

Lucian crouched beside the body, checking for a pulse.

Nothing.

He exhaled, standing back up, eyes locking onto hers.

"You okay?"

Aurora barely managed a nod.

Her beart pounded, but not from fear.

Lucian bad killed him. För her.

But who was he?

Her lips parted, the question slipping out before she could stop it.

"Who... who are you?"

Lucian tilted his head, his dark eyes watching her carefully.

For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer.

But then, in a võice so quiet it sent a shiver down her spine, he said-

"Lucian."

Aurora's throat tightened.

The name fit.

Something dark. Dangerous.

Inevitable.

Lucian took a step closer, his fingers brushing the edge of her jaw, tilting her face up.

The air between them thickened.

If she leaned in just a little more...

But he pulled back.

Go to bed, little bird."

Aurora exhaled shakily, nodding.

Lucian turned away, gripping Graham's lifeless body by the collar.

She watched as he dragged him into the shadows, disappearing without a sound.

Her door clicked shut.

And just like that, he was gone.

But Aurora knew-

This wasn't the end.

It was only the beginning.

---

LUCIAN

The cool night air was crisp against Lucian's skin as he moved through the woods behind the Sinclair estate.

Graham's body was slung over his shoulder.

Dead weight. Förgettable.

Lucian had disposed of worse.

He had cleaned up messes för people who didn't even know his name.

But this?

This was different.

Because it was for her.

Aurora Sinclair.

His little bird.

Lucian reached a remote section of the estate, where the security cameras had blind spots.

He set the body down with quiet precision.

No hesitation.

Everything was calculated. Controlled.

A black duffel bag waited for him in the shadows a contingency plan. He unzipped it, pulling out what he needed.

A weighted tarp. Heavy-duty plastic. Rope.

Within minutes, Graham's body was wrapped, secured, and disappeared without a trace.

By the time dawn came, there would be no evidence he had ever existed.

Lucian wiped his hands on his jeans, exhaling.

No one would ask about Graham.

No one would miss him.

And if anyone did?

They wouldn't find an answer.

Lucian cast one last glance toward the mansion.

Toward her.

Aurora was in her bed now, heartbeat steady, chest rising and falling in a rhythm be had memorized.

His fists clenched.

Richard Sinclair had made his move.

Now, it was his turn.

And when Lucian played, he never lost.