Chapter 55

Chapter 55
Aurelia's POV

The first thing I noticed was the foul smell when I woke up.

I coughed, and tried to cover my mouth but my arms ached when I tried to move and I realized they were tied behind the chair. A bulb hung above me, throwing a weak circle of light across a bare floor. There were no windows, only a door with a metal handle and dark stains on the wall.

My head throbbed as I shifted. The rope was cutting into my wrists. I swallowed hard, looking around even more, and then suddenly I heard footsteps and the handle of the door turned.

A man stepped in and closed it with a quiet click. He wore a black jacket and dark jeans. I couldn't see him properly because of the dim light, but he definitely looked rugged. He dragged a chair across the floor and sat in front of me.

“Killian Moretti,” he said.

My stomach tightened. “What? Why? Why am I here?”

“Tell me what you know,” he said.

“I don’t understand.” I tried to keep my voice steady. “I don’t know anything.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “He has been seen around you many times. At a club, you two, and then at the geological company. At first I thought, pure romance... Scandalous because he has a fiancée. But then Killian is always scandalous... and I know that marriage isn't for love."

"You talk too much," I said drily. "Go straight to the point."

That statement earned me a very harsh slap. My cheeks stung hard, and I could swear I saw stars.

"As I was saying... I thought you were a girl he was seeing... nothing much. But then you are at the geological company, and him investing... There is something there. A cover-up. Isn’t there?”

“I swear I don’t know anything. I just started a few weeks ago.”

Another man walked in, taller, with a scar across his chin. He stood behind me, the scent of smoke on his jacket.

“She’s lying,” he said.

“I’m not,” I said, my voice breaking. “Please, I’m only an intern.”

The man in front of me nodded once. A hard punch landed in my stomach. I gasped, bending forward as pain ripped through me.

“Who are you to him?” the first man asked.

“No one,” I said, struggling to breathe. “I’m no one.”

“Liar.” Cold metal pressed against the side of my head. The taller man’s voice was flat.

“I swear to God, I know nothing,” I said, tears stinging my eyes. “I’m just his stepdaughter.”

That has screwed him before, that's why you thought there was something romantic.

I only said that part in my head.

The man with the gun laughed. “Stepdaughter?"

“Yes,” I said, the words tumbling out. “I have nothing to do with his business. I barely know what he does.”

Killian's POV

The phone on my desk buzzed once and kept buzzing until I reached for it, while still reading the report on the screen of my laptop. My eyes shifted to the phone, and my brows furrowed. I didn’t recognize the number, but I opened the message anyway, expecting a contract update or a shipment delay.

It wasn’t.

Rather there were two pictures of Aurelia.

Her hands were tied behind a chair and a strip of cloth cut across her mouth, her face was pale and streaked. In the second photo, there was a visible mark of where she had been slapped, and her nose was bleeding. For a moment I only stared, not breathing, the sound of the air conditioner the only thing in the room, then I tightened my grip on the phone until my knuckles ached.

A second line of text followed. You move against us, she dies.

I sat back, still holding the phone. I could feel the edge of the chair pressing into my palm and I stayed that way for a long breath, then another. Whoever sent this thought they could reach me through her. They thought she was an easy way to get to me.

I hated that they were right about that.

I unlocked the drawer of the desk and pulled out another phone. “Trace this number,” I said when my security chief answered, leaning forward and pressing the call button again when the line cracked. “Send me everything. Now.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, before I cut the line.

The photo glowed in the dim light of the office. I should have kept her closer and safer, I thought, sliding a hand through my hair and staring at her eyes in the picture. She looked startled. I told her to always be careful since she was so obsessed with taking Uber instead of driving herself or using a driver, and I should have known that would never be enough.

Another message came while I was still looking. Midnight. Pier Seven. Come alone.

I let out a slow breath and set the phone down. I could almost hear her voice in my head, the way she argued in that first meeting after dinner, and the way she smiled when she thought I wasn’t watching. Then there was also the guilt in her eyes after each time we were intimate.

What a pure soul.

I planned to taint that.

I stood and the chair rolled back against the wall. I crossed the room and unlocked the cabinet, sliding the gun from the top drawer, checking the magazine before I set it on the desk. I picked up the phone again and stared at the photo.

They wanted me to follow their plan. They wanted me to walk into the dark and beg.

Not happening.

I sent a short message to my team and slipped the gun into its case, grabbing my jacket from the back of the chair. The hallway outside was quiet as I stepped out, and I could already see the next hours forming in my mind, the people I needed to call, the cameras I needed to pull, the men who owed me favors.

They wanted to see how far I would go.

They were about to find out.

Because I would brutally torture and kill anyone who ever dared to lay their hands on her.