Grayson halted, his features hardening as he realized how profoundly Aurora recoiled from his touch. A shadow crossed his eyes, bitterness and frustration coiling tight in his chest. With a sudden surge of emotion, he caught her lips again, this time kissing her with rough, desperate intensity.

The force of it stunned Aurora. The familiar sensation only reopened an old wound buried deep within her heart. Her hand flew up on instinct—cracking sharply across his face.

Fingers trembling from the blow, she glared at him, fury flashing in her eyes, her voice cutting cold and clear. "You crashed into my life like it meant nothing, Grayson—and walked out like it meant even less. What the hell makes you think you get to do this now? I'm no longer the woman who would come and go at your beck and call."

The luxury car continued to glide down the road as she reached for the handle, ready to leap out.

Darkness flickered in Grayson's gaze. He caught her slender wrist, his grip firm but trembling. "Rora," he murmured, the low whisper threaded with longing that twisted painfully in her chest.

Aurora jerked her hand away, eyes flashing. "Don't call me that! Whatever we had is over—if you think we can just pick up where we left off, you're mistaken."

At Grayson's quiet command, the driver eased the car to the curb.

Without another word, Aurora pushed open the car door and stepped into the cool night.

Her figure slipped into the darkness, leaving Grayson staring after her until the last trace of her silhouette vanished. Her final words echoed like a curse in his ears. "I'd rather die than be tied to the Rockefeller family again."

He pursed his lips. It was the Rockefeller family that she'd said she wanted nothing to do with. As he reflected, he'd never once introduced her to his family.

...

At the Burton family gathering, laughter and chatter filled the elegant dining hall.

Had Aurora known earlier that the uncle her fiancé had spoken of was Grayson, she might've tempered her sharp words that night. Seated beside her fiancé, Ryan Burton, she stole a glance across the table. Grayson sat opposite, engaged in a light conversation with Ryan's mother, Veronica, his profile calm yet distant. The sight sent an unexpected jolt through her chest.

Catching Aurora's gaze, Veronica offered a warm, hostess-like smile. "Aurora, I just realized I haven't introduced you properly," she said, her tone affectionate as she reached over and patted Grayson's arm. "This is Ryan's uncle, Grayson Rockefeller—my little brother. He's twenty-four years younger than I am."

Aurora lifted her glass gracefully, her expression composed, her voice even. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rockefeller."

Not a flicker of emotion touched her eyes; her greeting carried the cool civility of strangers.

Across the table, Grayson's jaw tensed. His gaze locked onto hers, intense and unwavering.

Sensing the subtle chill in the air, Ryan hurried to ease the tension. "Grayson," he called out lightly, though he couldn't ignore the sharp edge in Grayson's stare directed at Aurora.

Thinking Grayson's expression meant he didn't approve of Aurora, Ryan clasped her hand with a reassuring smile and lifted his glass toward Grayson. "I'm lucky to have Rora by my side," he said warmly. "Here's to you, Grayson."

Grayson's gaze sharpened. "What did you just call her?" His voice came out low and rough, carrying a note of barely restrained anger.

"Rora," Ryan repeated easily, glancing at Aurora with a tender grin. She answered with a soft smile of her own, their quiet intimacy glowing between them.

The sight struck Grayson like a thorn to the heart. His throat tightened as he turned away and drained his glass in one swallow, the burn doing little to dull the ache behind his eyes.

When the dishes arrived, Ryan leaned close, carefully placing food on Aurora's plate.

Aurora froze when she saw the crab legs before her, fork hovering midair. "Ryan, I can't..."

Before she could finish, he misunderstood and cheerfully added a slice of coral trout beside it. "Try this, Rora. These were flown in fresh—Grayson arranged everything himself."

Ryan's family had always lived modestly—his father a university professor, his mother the owner of a small flower shop. Luxuries like these were rare at their table.

Ryan had once told Aurora that Veronica had cut ties with her wealthy family to marry for love, and that choice had shaped the life they now led.

It hadn't occurred to Aurora that Veronica belonged to the formidable Rockefeller family.

Aurora hadn't even caught the faint resemblance between Veronica and Claude Rockefeller—Grayson's imposing father until now. Even after five long years, the memory of Claude standing in her parents' living room, his voice sharp and disdainful, remained vivid. His scornful words and arrogant bearing had cut deep, leaving behind a chill that lingered still.

Aurora's face tightened at the recollection, and her hand clenched around the fork until her knuckles whitened. A wave of nausea rose, twisting in her stomach. "Excuse me," she murmured, her voice roughened by emotion as she pushed back her chair. "I need a moment."

Once inside the restroom, she gripped the sink and turned on the tap, splashing cold water over her face until the sting steadied her breathing. Droplets slid down her cheeks as she stared into the mirror, forcing her expression back under control.

The soft creak of the door broke the silence.

She looked up, the sight locking her in place. Grayson's reflection stood behind her, tall and composed, his eyes unreadable.

The narrow space seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with tension.

Aurora dabbed her face with a tissue and then turned, intent on leaving. But before she could take a step, Grayson moved to block the doorway.

Meeting his gaze head-on, she kept her tone icy. "Mr. Rockefeller, please step aside."

A dangerous glint flashed in Grayson's eyes.

Aurora tried to slip past him, but his hand shot out, catching her wrist in a firm grip. He asked, his tone razor-sharp, "Do you really want to marry a man who doesn't even know you're allergic to seafood?"

She yanked free, her expression icy. "Ryan is your nephew."

The muscles along his jaw tightened, his face shadowed by a stormy darkness.

As Aurora reached for the bathroom door, his voice sliced through the air, cold as steel. "If the Burton family learns our past relationship, do you think they'll still approve you to marry Ryan?"

Without looking back, she answered evenly, "You're welcome to find out, Mr. Rockefeller."

The door swung open, and she stopped dead in her tracks. Ryan stood just outside, surprise flickering across his face as his gaze shifted between her and Grayson. "Rora," he blurted out, eyes wide in disbelief, "why are you and my uncle in there together?"

"I just..." Aurora hesitated, fishing for a believable excuse.

Grayson interjected smoothly, "The faucet was acting up, so I gave Miss Flynn a hand fixing it."

With that, Grayson breezed past Aurora, heading straight for the dining room.

Ryan narrowed his eyes, watching Grayson's retreating figure, a nagging feeling tugging at his gut. Since when did his usually standoffish uncle turn into Mr. Fix-It? His gaze flicked to Aurora, who flashed him a soft smile.

Ryan leaned in, voice low. "Rora, my mom's probably gonna urge us to get married at dinner. Could you do me a solid and play along? Just agree to it verbally. We will go our separate ways after, no strings attached."

Worried she might balk, he grabbed her hand and pleaded, "Please, I'm begging you."

Aurora had no reason to say no. They'd made a pact to cover for each other from the start. "Alright," she said.

Side by side, they strolled into the dining room.

Veronica beamed at Aurora, handing her a sleek gift box. "Aurora, this is for you."

Inside sparkled a diamond necklace.

"It's too much, I can't—" Aurora started to protest.

"Rora, it's a gift. Just accept it," Ryan interjected, deftly fastening the necklace around her neck.

The cold metal against Aurora's skin matched the frosty stare Grayson shot at it from across the table. His jaw tightened, fingers strangling his wine glass.

"Aurora, you and Ryan have been together for nearly a year. It's time to pick a date," Veronica said, her voice brimming with excitement. "When will your parents be available? Let's meet up and talk about wedding plans."

"They..." Aurora began, but her words were swallowed by a sharp crash.

Grayson's wine glass had shattered in his grip, dark red wine mixing with blood trickling down his hand.

Veronica rushed to Grayson's side, tending to his wound. "My fault entirely! I should've tossed that cracked glass ages ago."

Grayson brushed it off. "It's nothing, just a small cut."

Once his hand was patched up, dinner wound down, so the marriage talk fizzled out.

Veronica made a point of telling Ryan to see Aurora home safely.

Ryan, his breath heavy with wine, nodded.

"I'll send her home," Grayson said, cool as ever. "You've all had a few. It's not safe to drive."

"Aurora's place is nowhere near the Rockefellers'. Isn't that a hassle?" Veronica asked.

"I live in Skyline Lofts. It's on the way," Grayson replied.

Skyline Lofts, Odonrith's priciest river-view residence, was just a street away from Aurora's modest apartment—though the price tags were worlds apart.

Veronica blinked, caught off guard. She hadn't revealed Aurora's address, so how did Grayson know?

Ryan, buzzing with enthusiasm, tugged Aurora into the backseat of Grayson's car and then settled in beside her.

Grayson paused, his eyes cold as he slid into the passenger seat. In the rearview mirror, his gaze locked onto the diamond necklace glinting at Aurora's throat.

The car, spacious as it was, felt suffocating with unspoken tension.

When the sleek luxury car pulled up under Aurora's building, Ryan ran his hand over the leather seat, grinning like a kid in a candy store. "Grayson, when I hold the wedding, can I borrow this car for the day?"

Grayson's face was stone, no answer forthcoming.

Ryan laughed. "I swear I won't ding it." Turning to Aurora with a playful wink, he added, "Rora, what do you think? Rolling off in this car post-wedding would be epic, right?"

Aurora, guessing Ryan meant a wedding with someone else, gave a small nod.

Grayson's expression clouded over, her easy agreement twisting something inside him. He spoke with a detached tone. "If you like it, I'll get you a new one as a wedding gift."

Ryan's eyes lit up, practically bouncing in his seat. "Grayson, you're the best! Not nearly as icy as Mom makes you out to be."

"Is that so?" Grayson asked.

"Absolutely, you're awesome," Ryan said, flashing a grin at Aurora, his excitement spilling over.

Aurora stayed quiet.

Grayson, trying to play it cool, gazed at Aurora through the rearview mirror. "Miss Flynn, what's your take?"

Catching his gaze, Aurora replied politely, "Mr. Rockefeller, you're a good man."

It was a courteous compliment, nothing more.

Grayson's eyes lingered on her reflection in the mirror, vexed by her response.

Ryan hopped out, chivalrously opening Aurora's door, his arm shielding her head from the frame. "My lady, your chariot awaits."

Aurora chuckled at his theatrics. "Thanks."

Their easy banter flowed naturally, unforced. They didn't notice Grayson in the passenger seat, his face like a storm cloud.

From the car, Grayson watched Aurora's warm smile, memories of her tenderness toward him years ago flooding back, stirring a restless ache. Five years ago, she'd smiled at him with that same softness. Now, she treated him like a stranger.

Ryan, clueless to the undercurrent, waved at Grayson. "Thanks for the ride, Grayson. Good night. I'll walk Rora up."

Aurora said politely, "Thank you, Mr. Rockefeller."

"You're welcome," Grayson replied, his face hard as he told the driver to go.

Ryan watched the sleek Maybach pull away, grinning. "My uncle's the best guy on the planet."

Aurora's face stayed neutral, offering no reply. Once, she too had thought Grayson was the best person alive. But not anymore.