Chapter 113

Chapter 113
Chapter 113

Puppet Strings

Aurora’s POV

The cold press of the gun against my head was the cruelest kind of silence, that I have ever faced.

It wasn’t just steel. It wasn’t just metal. It was death itself breathing down my neck, whispering promises I wasn’t ready to hear. My pulse pounded in my ears so loudly that I almost missed Dominique’s voice.

“Peter,” he barked, his tone commanding but shaky, a mixture of fury and desperation. “Don’t do this. If you want blood, take mine. Not hers, just spare her.”

Peter didn’t move. His grip was steady, his jaw clenched, his expression cold,like it was carved from stone.

“Don’t you dare move, Dominique,” he snapped. “One more step and she dies, along with your baby.”

Tiffany’s voice slithered in next, dripping with venom and amusement, like she was savoring the chaos. “Oh, Peter… you always had a flare for dramatics. But if you’re going to prove your loyalty to me, then do it. Pull the trigger. End her. Right now, let's solve everything.”

My stomach turned. Loyalty? To her? My heart throbbed painfully as the gun dug deeper into my head with no mercy.

Then my father’s voice cut through the madness, ragged, broken, pleading.

“Aurora…”

I turned my head as much as I could, my eyes meeting his. His shirt was still bloodied from earlier, his face pale, his lips trembling. And then the words came that shattered me more than any bullet ever could.

“This is my fault,” he said hoarsely. “All of it. My weakness, my gambling, my debt… it dragged you into this pit. If anyone should die tonight, it should be me, not you. Peter, take me. Please. Let me be the redemption,let her live.”

“Dad, dont…..” my voice cracked, hot tears burned my cheeks as it trickled down my face.

Peter didn’t flinch. He kept the gun exactly where it was. My father stumbled forward anyway, arms outstretched as if to shield me with his own body.

“James!” Dominique’s voice was sharp, commanding him back. “Don’t you dare.”

But my father shook his head, his shoulders trembling. “No, Dominique. I can’t keep watching my daughter pay for my sins. If her life is the price for my mistakes, then let me be the one to end this , not her”

“Touch her and I’ll rip you apart myself,” Dominique hissed at Peter, stepping forward, his fists clenched. His men raised their guns, tension sparking like lightning through the air.

And then,in a moment

Damian.

His calm, measured voice sliced through the chaos.

“Peter. Look at me,focus on me.”

Peter’s hand tightened, his finger brushing the trigger. “Don’t come closer. Don’t test me, Damian.”

But Damian kept walking. Slow. Unflinching. Every step closer felt like a nail hammered into my coffin, putting a final signature ony death papers.

“Damian, stop!” Dominique roared, his voice breaking. “He’ll shoot her! Don't move!!!”

But Damian didn’t stop. His eyes locked on Peter’s, sharp, unreadable, almost daring him. My breath came fast, shallow.

Peter’s voice cracked for the first time. “I swear, Damian, another step and I’ll do it. I’ll kill her!”

Damian’s lips curved, not in a smile, but in something that unsettled me more than the gun itself. “ Stop talking, if you really want to do it, do it.”

Time fractured. My entire world narrowed to the sound of the gun being cocked, the metallic click echoing like thunder. Peter leaned closer, his breath brushing against my ear.

“It was nice knowing you, Aurora,” he whispered. “But now… you have to die.”

The sound of the gunshot tore the world apart.

BANG.

My vision went white. My body went cold. For one terrible second, I was certain I was gone, that Tiffany had won, that my baby and I had been snuffed out in an instant.

But then… I breathed.

The air scorched my lungs. My heart hammered violently in my chest. Slowly, my eyes fluttered open, and the world came back into focus.

Damian stood in front of me, his body shielding mine. Unharmed. Smiling.

“What” I gasped.

And then I heard it. His voice, calm, almost amused.

“Well done, Nice acting, Peter.”

The room froze, everyone froze.

Tiffany’s eyes widened, her jaw dropping. Dominique’s gaze flicked between Damian and Peter, his confusion warring with sudden, dawning realization. My father staggered back, his mouth opening in disbelief.

And Peter… Peter lowered the gun. Slowly, deliberately. His expression changed, not the hardened executioner, not the betrayer, but something else. Calculated. Cold. Determined.

My stomach dropped.

It had all been a performance.

Every second of terror, every bead of sweat, every scream, it was all a facade.

“W…what?” I whispered, my voice breaking.

Damian turned to me, his eyes softer now, almost apologetic. “It had to be real, Aurora. For her to Believe.”

Tiffany.

I looked at her just in time to see her entire world collapse. Her face twisted, first in confusion, then fury, then unbridled rage. She took a step forward, pointing at Peter with a trembling hand.

“You, betrayed me” she spat. “You betrayed me. You’ve been lying to me this entire time!, I wod make sure you pay for this”

Peter straightened, no longer pretending. “I served you long enough. Watched you twist everything, destroy everyone, and for what? To prove you’re stronger than Aurora? You think breaking her makes you powerful? No, Tiffany. It makes you weak.”

Her scream split the air, shrill and furious. “YOU WERE MINE! My pawn! My weapon!”

Damian stepped closer, his voice like steel. “No, Tiffany. That’s where you’re wrong.”

His gaze burned into hers, unyielding. “You were the pawn. You were the puppet. And you never even realized whose strings you were dancing on.”

Tiffany staggered, her face blanching before rage returned, hotter, wilder, more desperate. “No… no, I was in control! I planned this! I…I am always I'm control”

“You planned nothing,” Damian cut her off. “Every step you thought was yours, every move you believed you orchestrated, we allowed it. You thought you were pulling us apart, but all you did was push us closer together. Every time you tried to break Aurora, you only gave her more fire. And now, Tiffany… the game ends here right now.”
Her scream was inhuman, raw, a sound born of pure hatred and despair.

And I was still bound, still shaking from the reality of just escaping death, it was after some moments, I finally understood. Tiffany’s empire, her illusions, her sick triumphs, were ashes slipping through her fingers.

She wasn’t the queen on the board. She was the piece being sacrificed.

And right now, she knew it.