Chapter 30 30

Chapter 30 30
She says she hates me.
Her voice. Shaking, but loud enough to make it real to everyone but me. I don’t stop playing. Not until the last note escapes like a dying breath. The echo dies slowly in the marble hall.
But I heard her.
And for the first time in years, I feel cold.
My fingers fall still over the piano keys. My body doesn’t move, but inside, something sinks. Something I had been holding onto, the last bit of hope that she might still see the truth behind everything, that hope dies the second she turns her back and walks away.
I don’t chase her.
Because I know Aurora well enough to understand one thing: when she lies, she looks like the storm is eating her from within.
And tonight, she’s drowning.
I want to believe she still loves me. God knows, I still love her like a fucking curse. But love in our world? It’s a weapon. And we’ve both been cut open by it.

Hours pass.
The party ends.
I return to my apartment with a glass of whiskey and a wound in my chest that won’t stop bleeding. My brother Alessio and Angelo are waiting there, acting like it’s just another Saturday night in the underworld. They try to cheer me up, laughing, talking, saying stupid things about how “a good fuck will fix my brain.”
Then she walks in.
A woman I don’t know. A stripper.
Tall, pretty, wearing nothing but heels and perfume. She slinks over like she’s the answer to my pain.
Alessio claps me on the back.
“Go on, brother. That woman you love chose vengeance. She’s not coming back.”
I look at him. I don’t speak.
The woman wraps her arms around me, presses her naked skin to mine.
And I feel nothing.
I stare at her like she’s invisible. My body doesn’t react. My hands don’t move. I don’t even blink when she kisses the side of my jaw. There’s no fire. No hunger. Just a deep, cold pit in my stomach.
Because she’s not Aurora.
I gently push the woman away. “Get out,” I say, flatly. “Now.”
She looks offended, confused, but I don’t care. I stand, grab my jacket, and walk out of my own apartment, leaving Alessio and Angelo behind. Let them laugh, let them drink. They don’t understand. They never will.
I stand out on the balcony, staring at the night sky like it holds the answers.
But there’s nothing up there except darkness.
The Day That Was Supposed to Be
The phone rings just past noon. I’m sitting in my office at the club, papers spread across my desk, pretending to care about invoices and supply lists. But my mind is elsewhere. It always is these days.
“Hello?” I answer absently.
“Miss Aurora, good afternoon. This is Elisa from the bridal boutique,” the woman says politely, her voice like a distant echo from a different life. “We just wanted to confirm the delivery address for your gown… since the wedding is today.”
My heart doesn’t stop. It sinks.
For a moment, I can’t breathe. Today. Today was supposed to be the day I’d walk down the aisle in white silk and lace. The day I’d take Damiano’s name and erase the shadows of our world, if only for a moment. The day everything was meant to change.
But nothing changed.
Instead, I’m here, in a black power suit, not a gown. Running clubs. Running casinos. Running from myself.
I clear my throat, swallowing the lump forming there. “There’s no wedding,” I manage, my voice colder than I mean it to be. “Cancel the delivery.”
A beat of silence from the other side.
Then a quiet, “Of course. I’m… very sorry, Miss.”
I hang up.
I sit still for a long moment, phone in my hand, staring at nothing. And then slowly, almost without thinking, I reach into my handbag and pull out the ring.
The one he gave me. The one I swore I’d never wear again.
It glints in the light like it still has something to say. I haven’t worn it in days, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. It lives there now, at the bottom of my handbag. Like a secret I can’t let go.
I clutch it for a second, then shove it back down and zip the bag shut.
I haven’t seen Damiano since the party. Since I told him what I had to say. Since I broke him to save him.
But my men are always watching. I know where he goes, when he eats, when he comes home. I know he’s been drinking more. Sleeping less. I know about the bruises on his face that haven’t healed yet. I know the woman his brothers sent never even made it to the bedroom.
Because love doesn’t die in silence. It just hides where no one can find it.
And mine is still buried deep in my chest, thudding every time I hear his name.
I press my palm to my heart.
Today was supposed to be the wedding.
Instead, it’s just another day in the empire I never wanted to rule alone.