Chapter 94
Chapter 94:
Dark Confrontation
Aurora’s POV
I felt the weight of finality on my shoulders as I stepped out of the house. The wind brushed across my cheeks, and with each gust, it whispered that this would be the last time I played the weak one. The last time I would beg for justice. From now on, I would take it.
I was dressed simply, but every inch of me felt armored with rage. Rage for my mother. Rage for the lies. Rage for everything Victor Peterson had done to my family.
I grabbed my keys from the marble counter and turned sharply. Dominic, leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed, narrowed his eyes.
“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice low and unreadable.
I stared at him, heartbeat steady, expression colder than I intended. “To end something that’s long overdue.”
He pushed off the wall. “You’re not going there alone.”
“I don’t need backup.”
“I’m not asking. I’m following.”
I didn’t argue. Not because I welcomed his company—but because something inside me knew he needed to see what I was becoming.
The drive to Victor Peterson’s warehouse was thick with tension. Dominic didn’t speak, and I didn’t care to break the silence. When we arrived, I got out without waiting. My heels clicked ominously against the concrete floor as I pushed open the heavy steel doors.
Victor was standing by one of the long tables, hands behind his back like a king in his filthy little domain. When he saw me, his mouth curled into that smug grin that made my blood boil.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Aurora Thompson. Or should I say—Valeryk’s ghost.”
I didn’t flinch. “I came here for answers.”
His grin widened. “You’ve always had fire in you. Just like your mother before I extinguished hers.”
“You admit it?” I asked, voice sharper than a blade.
“I never denied it. She was a threat. And threats get erased. If I could do it all over again, I’d kill her twice.”
I stepped closer. My fists were clenched, my body trembling—not in fear, but fury.
“This is the last time you’ll see me,” I said slowly. “Next time, it will be me standing over your cold, rotting corpse.”
He laughed, dark and hollow. “Then I’ll keep my coffin warm.”
I turned around before I did something I couldn’t take back. As I walked away, I felt Dominic’s presence behind me, silent and stiff. He had watched everything.
And I don't care what he's reaction was, I am not ready to back away from any war, instead I would be the one to instigate the war.
I am WAR.
—
Dominique Pov
My head felt like it was spinning. I stood in the shadows, frozen, unable to pull myself away from the confrontation I had just witnessed. Aurora had turned into something else, something powerful, vengeful. She was no longer the fragile girl from two years ago, she was no more the fragile girl who couldn't stand up for herself.
And for the first time, I was afraid.
Afraid of what she had turned into, or what I had turned her into.
But it wasn’t just her rage that unsettled me.
It was more than her rage, but the look in her eyes.
Wicked, ruthless, evil, Vengeance, her eyes spoke volumes about what she wants to do.
And I don't think anyone can stop her… not even me..
””””
Addam Pov
I needed to talk to Tiffany and Victor, my father, I need to know our stance on Aurora's issue.
Tiffany has been blinded by jealousy and vengeance that she might not listen to me, but maybe she might listen to Victor.
I wish Victor would not support her but he might , because he always wanted a way to get back at the blackwood and now is the perfect time to do that.
I walked into his office, he wasn't there.
His office felt so eerie and silence carrying the weight of his ruthlessness even in his absence.
My fingers had brushed against a wooden drawer near the old ledgers. I hadn’t meant to snoop, but curiosity had a strange way of grabbing you when your world is already trembling. I pulled the drawer open and found a small photo album inside. One photo slid out, aged and yellowed with time.
A young woman, beautiful, soft-eyed. Holding a baby boy. And beside her, a toddler about three years old.
I blinked.
The toddler… it was me.
My heart slammed against my chest. I picked up the photo, staring hard. That woman, she wasn’t the one I grew up calling “Mom.” And the baby she held wasn’t Tiffany.
The walls closed in. My stomach turned.
Who was she?
Who was that baby?
Who was I?
My breath caught in my throat. I stumbled backward, still clutching the photo, needing answers that suddenly felt like they’d shatter the last pieces of my identity.
I turned on my heel and stormed out of the warehouse. There was only one man who could explain this.
Victor Peterson.
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Victor Peterson’s POV
After Aurora left, I stood in silence. Her words echoed through my mind, louder than any scream.
“…the next time I see you, I’ll be standing over your dead body.”
She thought she scared me? That she could threaten me in my own home?
I picked up the closest glass and hurled it against the wall. Shards scattered like my patience. The rage clawed its way up my throat and erupted in violence.
I reached for my gun and fired twice, two quick, sharp blasts.
Two men dropped to the ground.
They were my workers. Good ones. Loyal. But they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“I don’t pay you bastards to stare,” I barked at the remaining staff. “Clean it up.”
Their hands shook as they scrambled.
I walked over to the window, phone in hand. My finger hovered over one name.
Tiffany.
She picked up on the first ring.
“It’s time,” I said, voice calm but venomous. “Commence the plan. Let’s end the Valeryk bloodline… forever.”
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