Chapter 95

Chapter 95

The Picture of Truth

Victor Peterson's POV

The warehouse still lingered in my mind. The venom in Aurora's voice, the rage in her eyes... it echoed in my skull like gunfire. I gritted my teeth as I stepped out of the car and into my home, my knuckles tightening with every step I took.

I didn’t bother greeting the guards. I had no patience for pleasantries tonight, or else some one else would feel my wrath like the others did

Straight to my office. My safe haven, That was the only place I could think clearly.

But as I opened the door, I knew something was off.

I could feel it.

No window was broken. Nothing was overturned. But I could feel it. A subtle shift in the air. The lingering scent of someone who wasn’t me. It was like the room exhaled a truth I didn’t want to hear.

I scanned the room carefully, trying to look what for what felt off, or what was missing.

Everything seemed in its place, but I knew my guts don't lie.

Until my eyes landed on the frame, I had always kept for years now, but the only difference is that it was…..

Gone.

The picture that had always been hidden beneath a folder, neatly tucked away in my desk drawer. A precaution. A memento I never wanted eyes on. A picture of a young woman with soft green eyes, cradling a newborn. Beside her, Adam stood as a boy no older than five, clinging to the woman’s skirt.

And now, it was gone.

My blood ran cold.

Someone had taken it.

Someone knew,

The secret I’d buried decades ago. A truth that would shatter everything, that would destroy everything that I had built.

I slumped into my chair, fear clutching my gut like a vice. If that photo ever got into Adam’s hands, or anyone close to Addam, everything would fall apart. My legacy, my power, his life,everything would be at stake.

And I don't think am ready to have another enemy, Aurora alone is more of a bug under my skin.

And bugs maybe small, but thier actions are always catastrophic.

Adam Peterson's POV

The photo was in my hand, in my palms.

And it felt like it weighed more than a thousand bricks.

I sat in my room, unmoving, eyes fixed on the image. A woman I didn’t recognize. Yet...

There was something about her.

A sense of familiarity.

The curve of her jaw. The tilt of her nose. The eyes.

It wasn’t just a coincidence.

But then my eyes fell on the newborn cradled in her arms, my heartbeat pulsated, eye lids dilated.

I saw her.

Not the woman, the baby, the resemblance to…

Aurora.

“No, it must be my mind playing tricks on me”, so I thought.

My fingers trembled. My mind was spinning so violently I thought I might vomit. Was I going crazy? Was my mind creating connections that didn’t exist?

Was this woman my real mother?

Why does this baby resemble Aurora?

Who's my mother?

Was my entire life, my name, my lineage, my bloodline a lie?

I stood up, suddenly, violently. My chair toppled over behind me.

I needed answers.

And fast.

And there was only one man who could give them to me.

Victor.

My father, or should I say my supposed father.

Within minutes, I was on my way to Victor mansion, to know the truth about my existence.

The guards at the mansion gave a nod as I stepped out of the car.

“Is Victor in?” I asked, my voice low.

“Yes, sir,” one replied. “He just got back not long ago.”

I nodded and walked inside, every step a drumbeat of fury in my chest.

Now or never.

Aurora’s POV

I slammed the door behind me the moment I got in. My legs shook with rage. The conversation with Victor... I could still hear his smug voice.

I wanted to scream.

No. I wanted to kill.

I stormed into the kitchen. But the flashback hit me like a freight train. My mother, lying there... blood pooling like wine around her.

I gripped the counter for support. My heart pounded like a war drum.

She died because of them.

Because of him.

Victor Peterson.

Because they all wanted her, now they are back for me.

I would burn down everything he loved. I would make him suffer the way she suffered.

"Aurora."

I turned sharply at the sound of his voice.

Dominique

He stood in the doorway, eyes soft, shoulders tense.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“You’re spiraling,” he said, stepping closer. “You keep going down this path, it’ll eat you alive. This anger, this pain... it’ll turn you into someone you’re not.”

I laughed bitterly.

“Maybe I don’t care who I become. As long as I get revenge.”

“Aurora”

“No, Dominique!” I shouted. “You don’t get to come here now and act like you care. You pushed me away. You used me like I was nothing more than a pawn in your stupid, twisted game. Remember I am the Devil's Handmaiden, you told me those words, And now you want to pretend like you give a damn?”

He said nothing. But his silence screamed louder than words.

I stepped closer, fury bubbling to the surface.

“Do you even know what you did to me? What you turned me into? The torture in the discipline room, You did this.This version of me? You helped make her. You let me bleed.”

Still, no words.

Just... pain in his eyes.

And then he kissed me.

A deep, breath-stealing kiss that caught me off guard. His hands held my face as though I was porcelain. As if he had to memorize every part of me before I shattered completely.

I froze.

Then melted.

Everything in me trembled.

When he pulled away, his voice was hoarse.

“I’m sorry, Aurora. For everything. I can’t take back what I did… I have struggled with this reality, but I know this now.”

He stepped closer again, resting his forehead on mine.

“I love you.”