Chapter 8: CHAPTER 8

Andrew’s POV

I watch as Callum grabs Aurora's hand and drags her with him. My first instinct is to chase after him, but I hold myself back. I begin to walk down too. I manage to convince myself that I am not following them.

But when Callum makes her enter the car with him, I swing into action. I move toward Callum and speak to him, pretty sure Aurora can't hear us.

“The girl has had a long day. Tell me you are taking her home,” I say calmly.

“I'm taking her to a café. What's it to you?” Callum replies coldly.

I take a deep breath and look at him, my eyes piercing through his skin. “Be careful.”

“Of course,” Callum replies confidently. I push him aside and peep inside the car from the driver's window. My eyes meet Aurora's before she looks away.

“You aren't wearing that sweater today,” I mutter, scanning her body. The same body I saw earlier in class.

“I get to pick my clothes, Andrew. I don't have to wear it every day,” Aurora replies wittingly.

“When do you get paid?” I ask.

“Why must I tell you?” she replies firmly. It feels as if… no, it isn't a mere feeling. She is being defensive today.

“You don't have to tell me,” I smile. “Just make sure you get some new clothes when you get paid. I know you are a nude model but it won’t kill you to put on something that's not torn or bloodstained when you are clothed.”

My words pierce her. I can see it clearly.

“I will take care of my own business,” she replies and looks away instantly. Her voice changes.

I stare at her, looking at her facial features to see if she looks like Elara Marchand, the love of my life who wounded me before she left.

Elara has grey-green eyes. I know that very well since I always love to stare into her eyes before I kiss her. Aurora’s eyes are hazel in color.

Elara’s hair is long and dark while Aurora's hair is shorter and lighter. It is chestnut in color. The resemblance between them exists but it isn't striking. Aurora looks like Elara but with some missing features and, most importantly, soul.

“Hey!” Callum taps me on the shoulder. “We have to leave.”

I nod and leave the car door. Callum gets in and drives off. I conclude in my mind that she can't be Elara. However, I can still feel my heart sink as I watch their car leave.

Maybe I am going crazy.

I step into my family's private living room. It is different from the first, which is actually a hall used to receive guests. I sit down on the couch as I relax. I hear footsteps incoming but I don't bother to open my eyes to check who it is. I figure it would be one of the maids.

“Some wine!” I shout. “You know the kind of wine I always drink!”

“I don't know which wine you drink,” I hear Margot's voice say. I open my eyes instantly to see my mother, Margot Rousseau, before me. She has her arms folded.

“I thought you were a maid,” I mutter.

“Of course you did. You wouldn't have sent me to get you wine. You are aware I am not your slave,” Margot replies shortly. She sits down on the couch opposite mine and folds her legs.

“Some mothers are pleased to do things for their sons,” I say sarcastically. “I meant real mothers.”

“Don't be clingy now, boy,” Margot replies. “Do you know how hard it was to push you out? You should be glad and thank me all day, not treat me like your slave.”

I know where this is going. I know better than to respond to her comment. I just ignore her, just like I always do.

Both of us go quiet now. I pick my fingernails while she seems preoccupied on her iPad. A maid enters and I bark, “Wine!” The maid turns back to provide what I order.

“Actually…” Margot begins to say. “You know the foundation's annual gala is in a week, don’t you?”

I nod.

“The art auctions will be the climax! The foundation will raise funds using that,” Margot tells me even though I haven't shown interest.

I nod again.

“I didn't give birth to you handicapped! You have a mouth, so how about you use it?” Margot says angrily. There she is, looking for another argument.

I stand up, unable to take it any longer.

The maid enters with the bottle of wine.

“Stop!” Margot shouts at me.

Angrily, I grab the bottle of wine and smash it against the wall. The shattering of the glass frightens Margot and shuts her up in the process. I turn to her, my eyes red out of anger.

“I will attend the annual gala as I have done every year. I know what I have to do, Margot. Now sit down and do what you have to do,” I tell her as calmly as I can. I walk out of the mansion now, eager to get the toxicity off myself.

I plan to go to the arcade or the club to distract myself. Right before I enter my car, my phone beeps. It is a text from my private investigator, Julien.

“Aurora Moreau: Investigation Incomplete, First Presentation Ready.”

Excited, I called him right away.

“Let's meet!” I tell him over the phone.

“Where?” he asks.

“Nowhere!”

Nowhere bar is owned by an American. His name is Jeff and he runs the place along with a handful of coworkers. It isn't a big bar but I like the aesthetics. It has become the regular meeting place for Julien and me.

I sit at the VIP section, sipping from a glass of whiskey. Julien arrives and sits beside me. I haven't seen him in years.

“Important news first!” I tell him without offering him a drink first.

“The person, Aurora Moreau, didn't exist until two years ago!” Julien announces.