Chapter 96 My Things Aren't So Easy To Take
Aurora's POV
I helped Matilda back to her room in silence. Once I'd settled her into bed and made sure she had everything she needed, I left quietly and walked back to my own room.
The moment I closed my bedroom door, Silk's notifications exploded in my mind like fireworks.
【Matilda Sterling Favorability +1 → 92】
【Matilda Sterling Favorability -2 → 90】
【Matilda Sterling Favorability -3 → 87】
My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting copper as my teeth broke through the delicate skin. A cold laugh built in my throat, bitter and sharp and full of contempt for the weakness I'd witnessed tonight.
Useless old witch. So easily swayed Damian's poisonous words. After everything I've done, after all the time I've spent building her trust and affection, she throws me away the moment someone questions my intentions.
I couldn't put all my hopes on Matilda anymore, couldn't rely on her affection or her protection when it could be stripped away so easily. She was too weak, too susceptible to manipulation.
I needed other allies, other sources of power and protection.
The next morning, I packed my belongings with careful deliberation, selecting only the essentials while leaving behind a carefully curated collection of items designed to maximize Matilda's guilt and regret.
My everyday clothes stayed in the closet, hanging exactly as I'd left them, and my collection of books remained on the shelves with their spines aligned perfectly. The little decorative items I'd accumulated over the years stayed on the dresser and nightstand, creating a frozen tableau of my presence that would haunt this room long after I'd gone.
I wanted Matilda to walk in here and see all the pieces of my life I'd left behind, wanted her to be confronted with physical reminders of what she'd thrown away every time she passed by this door. The guilt would eat at her slowly, wearing down her resolve.
Beta Albert arrived mid-morning to drive me to the apartment Damian had arranged. Albert helped carry my bags up three flights of narrow stairs to apartment 3A, the key turning in the lock with a grinding sound that made me wince. When I pushed open the door and stepped inside, I had to physically restrain myself from reacting, had to force my expression into something approaching neutral acceptance even though rage burned hot and vicious in my chest.
The living room stretched out before me in all its cramped, shabby glory, barely twenty square meters of space dominated by a cheap fabric sofa that sagged in the middle and a coffee table that wobbled when I accidentally bumped it with my leg. The walls were decorated with mass-produced prints in garish colors, the kind of generic art you found in discount stores, and the carpet showed wear patterns from previous tenants who'd walked the same paths over and over until the fibers had compressed into permanent tracks.
I walked through to the bedroom in a daze, taking in the particle board furniture that would probably fall apart if I looked at it too hard and the narrow bed with its thin mattress and cheap linens. The whole apartment couldn't be more than a third of the size of my room at the Pack House, and every surface screamed of neglect and penny-pinching and the kind of poverty I'd thought I'd left behind forever.
This was what Damian called a proper arrangement? I stood at the window and stared out at the shabby street below, at the cracked sidewalks and the rusting cars parked along the curb and the general air of decay that hung over everything like a shroud. This is what my years of service and loyalty have earned me? A cramped box in a forgotten corner of the city, far away from everything that matters?
The fury building in my chest felt like it might consume me from the inside out, hot and vicious and demanding release. But I swallowed it down and forced myself to turn away from the window, to start unpacking my limited belongings.
I was halfway through organizing my clothes when the doorbell rang, sharp and jarring in the quiet apartment. When I opened the door, I found a woman in her late thirties standing in the hallway with a man and a young girl, all three of them wearing expressions of friendly curiosity.
"Hi, Aurora! I heard you're the new tenant in 3A," the woman said brightly, her smile showing too many teeth. "I'm Linda from 3B, and this is my husband George and our daughter Amy. We wanted to come over and welcome you to the building."
I manufactured a warm smile and stepped back to let them in, even though every fiber of my being screamed at me to slam the door in their faces. "That's so kind of you."
"Mommy!" Amy's voice came out high and excited as she pointed directly at my wrist. "I like her bracelet! It's so pretty!"
My hand moved instinctively to cover the delicate silver chain, the one Nolan had given me months ago with its tiny charm shaped like a crescent moon. Warning bells rang in my head as I forced my smile to stay in place, pulling my wrist closer to my body. "Thank you, sweetie. It was a gift from Nolan."
Linda's expression shifted slightly, her smile taking on a calculating edge. "Oh, Aurora's always been so generous and sweet-natured, haven't you dear? And you've moved out of the Alpha's house now, so you probably don't need to hold onto all those old accessories. They're just taking up space, really. Why don't you let Amy wear it for a few days? She'd take such good care of it, and little girls do love pretty things."
George shifted uncomfortably beside his wife, his expression uncertain as he looked between Linda's expectant face and my carefully neutral one. "It looks pretty expensive, honey. Maybe we shouldn't—"
"The Alpha family has everything," Linda interrupted smoothly, her grip on my wrist tightening just slightly. "I'm sure Nolan won't mind buying Aurora something new if she wants it. He's always been so generous with her, hasn't he?"
Amy had started bouncing again, her small hands reaching for my wrist as she added her voice to her mother's manipulation. "Please? I'll be super careful with it! I promise I'll give it back!"
George's resistance crumbled in the face of his daughter's pleading, and he added his own voice to the chorus with obvious reluctance. "Come on, Aurora. It's just for a couple days, right? Nolan definitely won't mind something this small."
I felt my fingers curl into a fist, my nails digging into my palm hard enough to leave marks as rage flooded through me in a red-hot wave. These people, these strangers who knew nothing about me or my situation, were standing in my pathetic excuse for an apartment and demanding I hand over MY THING.
But I couldn't refuse, couldn't let them see the fury burning behind my eyes. I needed to maintain my image as sweet, generous Aurora who never caused trouble and always put others first, even if it meant swallowing my pride and giving away something precious just to satisfy a spoiled child's whim.
My hands moved slowly and deliberately as I unclasped the bracelet. I held it out to Amy with a smile that felt like it might crack my face in half, forcing warmth into my voice. "Then I guess Amy should have it. Take good care of it for me, okay?"
Linda's satisfied nod made my stomach turn, her expression radiating smug victory as she watched her daughter snatch the bracelet from my palm. "See? I told you Aurora was the sweetest girl. The Alpha family really does raise their children well, don't they George?"
They left a few minutes later with promises to be good neighbors and invitations to dinner that I knew I'd never accept. The moment the door closed behind them, I felt the mask slip from my face like water, my expression going completely blank and cold as I walked slowly back to my bedroom and sat down on the edge of the narrow bed.
My wrist felt naked and exposed where the bracelet had been. I stared at that empty space for a long moment, feeling something dark and vicious coiling in my chest like a snake preparing to strike.
From the hidden compartment in my suitcase, I retrieved the small cloth pouch, the one filled with ingredients I'd carefully collected over the past months. My fingers were steady as I added the strand of Amy's hair I'd managed to pull from her collar during that awkward goodbye hug, mixing it.
"Misfortune follows the thief, ailment upon ailment, until returned."
The hair in the pouch ignited without flame, turning to black smoke that rose in a thin tendril before shooting toward the wall in the direction of apartment 3B. I watched it disappear through the plaster and felt a cold satisfaction settle in my chest, sharp and bitter and deeply gratifying.
A smile curved my lips as I tucked the empty pouch back into its hiding place, my voice barely above a whisper in the silent room. "My things aren't so easy to take, after all."