As soon as I’m in the pool area, I avoid Aiden, which isn’t super hard. He’s slowly dancing with his bride, her head hidden by his shoulder as he rests his chin on top of her hair.

For a second, I stop and stare at the scene, at how serene and happy they both appear. It’s similar to Alicia and Jonathan’s wedding day twenty years ago. Although…Jonathan didn’t dance. I suspect whether the tyrant even knows how.

I pull myself out of my stupor and sneak to the car park.

So I lied.

I wasn’t going to find Agnus. That meant I would’ve had to linger around, and there’s no way in hell I was spending a minute longer in Jonathan’s vicinity.

As for my other side of the plan? Now that I broke the ice with Ethan, we can have a meeting at his company, and hopefully, I won’t have to see Jonathan again in this lifetime.

He’ll be on his throne and I’ll go back to my small corner of London that he doesn’t focus on. Being a ruler means he doesn’t care to look at insignificant presences, and that’s exactly where I plan to stay.

I don’t ask any of the staff to bring my car and, instead, quicken my pace towards it, not sparing a glance behind me.

If you don’t look behind, no one finds you.

Or so you think.

I shake my head at that sinister voice. His voice. The devil I’m acquainted with.

My fingers are unsteady as I pull out my keys from my bag. I push the button on my car keys, causing my Toyota to unlock with a beep.

The moment I open the door, a hand comes from beside my head and slams it shut. I flinch as the same strong woodsy scent I’ve never forgotten invades my nostrils.

Jonathan’s hot breath leaves goosebumps on my face as he whispers in a low, almost threatening tone, “Long time no see, Aurora. Or should I call you Clarissa?”

4

Aurora

I’m trapped.

This sensation of being in a confined place with no way out was supposed to be over eleven years ago.

I’m supposed to be free.

But am I? Really?

I step away from Jonathan’s clutches, and that leaves me with my back against the closed door of my car.

Jonathan towers over me like a large wall. I miscalculated his height. I’m not short by any means, yet in order to meet his gaze, I have to tilt my head up.

I have to step out of my comfort zone and pay the price for the risk I took.

Clarissa.

He remembers. Why does he remember a name he’s only heard twice in his damn life?

Alicia wouldn’t have talked about me. She came to see me in secret and told me it was our private little world that no one needed to know about. We even did it behind my father’s back as I grew up.

We only shared a mother who died soon after I was born, and then Alicia wanted to fulfil that role.

She tried to, anyway.

But I was already acquainted with the devil and I had no way out. Nothing Alicia could’ve done would’ve saved me. If anything, it might’ve accelerated her death.

Bottom line is, Jonathan shouldn’t care about my existence, let alone remember my old name.

“Aurora. My name is just Aurora Harper now.”

He remains motionless like a mountain. “I see you’re killing your association with Maxim Griffin.”

Black images assault my head. The cries. The shouts. The assault of the angry crowd.

My bottom lip trembles and I trap it under my teeth to put a halt to it.

“Don’t.” I wrap a hand around my waist and hug myself. The old scar is way underneath my clothes, but I feel the burn as if it’s happening right now.

“Don’t?” he repeats.

“Don’t say his name.”

“That doesn’t erase him from existence.”

“Just don’t. Stop it.”

“I might consider it if you tell me something.”

“What?”

“Where have you been, Clarissa? I mean, Aurora.”

“Why should I tell you?”

He tilts his head to the side, watching me for a few seconds without blinking. Being under Jonathan’s brutal scrutiny is like kneeling in a king’s court, waiting to be judged.

“You think you can show up out of nowhere, at my son’s wedding, no less, and pretend like nothing happened?”

Yes.

But now that I hear it in that haughty, almost condescending voice, I feel like I was being childish for ever thinking that.

“Let’s pretend we never met,” I try in my soft tone.

“I don’t pretend.” He steps closer, purposefully invading my personal space as if it’s his God-given right. “So how about you tell me what the fuck you were doing with Ethan?”

“Nothing.”

“Try again, and this time, don’t lie to me. If you do, I’ll take it as in you’re ready to bear the consequences.”

I could lie to him and get myself out of this pinch, but that will only take me so far. I might not have seen Jonathan in person for twenty years, but his name can’t be escaped in this country or even in the international business scene.

He’s an investor. A commander. A ruler.

If he sets his sights on something, there’s no stopping him until he either gets it or ruins it.

Black or white. There’s no grey in his dictionary.

And for that reason, I need to tactfully slip out from under his radar as smoothly as I was trapped within it. I crossed the enemy’s lines by mistake and now, I need to find the safest way out.

I suck in a deep breath. “Business.”

“What type of business?”

“Just business.”

“Did you not hear me ask what type of business it is? I do not like repeating myself, Aurora.”

Damn him and the authoritative way he speaks. It’s like he expects everyone to fall at his feet with a simple command.

I might not want to provoke Jonathan on purpose, but I will not get on my knees in front of him.

Not now. Not ever.

I’m done with kneeling for a lifetime.

“It’s nothing that concerns you.”

“Nothing that concerns me, but it concerns Ethan. Correct?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“No?” I repeat with a confusion that must be written all over my face.

“You’ll end whatever business venture you have with Ethan.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I said so, wild one.”

Is he fucking kidding me? He’s not. I know Jonathan isn’t the type who jokes around, but does he honestly believe I would follow simply because he ordered?

So what if he has power? It’s not absolute. Nothing and no one is.

I lift my chin. “And if I say no?”

“Then we’ll do it my way.” A small smile lifts his lips. His sensual, well-proportioned lips.

And now, I’m staring at his lips.

Stop staring at his lips.

I lift my gaze to his and the whole image is clear. He’s not even smiling, and it’s downright menacing. This is the look of a man who’s preparing for a battle.

A man who’s so used to war that peace bores him.

And I’m another battlefield in his path of conquering.