In the second year of my marriage to Julian Thorne, the heir to the Chicago Outfit—a marriage I was forced into as collateral for a blood debt—he brought his new mistress to a family dinner.

Our eyes met, and Julian smiled contemptuously, his voice dripping with condescension. "Aurora," he said, "maybe you should try it. Find a little life for yourself."

Little did he know, this time, my heart had already been stolen.

Later, when he saw the family crest Caspian had tattooed below my collarbone, his eyes blazed with fury. "Aurora Costello," he snarled, "who gave you the nerve to get this inked on your skin?"

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1

The moment I stepped into the Thorne family's banquet hall, I heard intimate whispers drifting from a corner.

I let the shawl slip from my shoulders, my stride faltering for just a moment.

Still, I forced myself toward that corner.

Pushing open the carved glass door to the terrace, I saw Julian immediately.

Two buttons of his custom black silk shirt were undone, the collar falling open to reveal the top of his chest.

The woman in his arms giggled sweetly, her fingertips tracing the skin of his chest.

He playfully grabbed her hand, but the smug satisfaction on his face said it all; he was enjoying every second of it.

Hearing my approach, the sultry woman turned her head with a smile.

"Oh, Julian, is that the waiter with our wine—"

Her words died in her throat, her bright red nails freezing in mid-air.

When she saw me, her smile faltered, and she stammered,

"Mrs. Thorne… Donna Aurora…"

My gaze dropped to the diamond necklace around her neck, a piece I recognized from a recent auction.

My throat went tight. My voice was a raw rasp.

"Julian, what are you doing?"

He glanced up, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

His long fingers toyed with the woman's curls.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

Julian held the woman closer, his disdainful gaze raking over me from head to toe.

He narrowed his eyes.

"You know, Aurora, you really should learn from her."

"You’re always like some dusty relic in a museum—completely lifeless."

"It's depressing. And dull."

I had known Julian for eighteen years. For eighteen years, he had shackled me with his hatred.

When I was seven, my mother was accused of betraying the family, disappearing with a vital ledger.

She abandoned me, leaving me, the "sinner's daughter," in the care of the Thorne family.

I begged to be sent to a boarding school, but Julian flatly refused.

His eyes blazed as he gripped my arm, his fingers tight enough to crush bone.

"Don't even think about it, Aurora. You will stay by my side for the rest of your life. A living reminder of what happens to traitors."

I nodded, assuming he just wanted to keep me imprisoned like a trophy until he grew bored.

I never imagined that when I came of age, he would bind me to him permanently with a marriage.

His father, Don Marcus Thorne, hadn't objected when he learned of our union.

After the ceremony, he summoned me to his study. "Aurora," he began, his voice heavy, "Julian made this decision, but don't hold it against him."

He paused, advising me, "Since you are married, try to play your part. Give the Thorne family an heir."

He said that last sentence with grave solemnity. I asked in confusion,

"If the bloodline continues, will the sins of the past be forgiven?"

He looked stunned, then his gaze darted away, unable to meet mine.

His voice was laced with weariness.

"Child, freedom isn't a luxury for the women of this family."

On our wedding night, I reached out, my hand landing on the buttons of Julian's shirt.

Beneath the silky fabric, I felt the firm, smooth lines of his muscles.

Just as I was about to undo the last button, Julian seized my hand.

His face was a mask of indifference as the cold muzzle of a gun pressed against my forehead.

"Aurora, do you have any idea what you're doing?"

I nodded, looking up at him.

"Your father wants us… to have an heir."

Julian slowly pried my fingers away.

He smiled at me, but his eyes were as cold as a winter wind.

"You're just like your mother. Betrayal is in your blood."

"Does a traitor's bloodline deserve to carry the Thorne family name?"

He shoved me away, hurling a piece of antique porcelain I had just restored.

Expensive shards shattered across the marble floor.

I stumbled back, my body crashing against the mahogany sideboard.

He stepped over the broken pieces, his expression laced with disgust.

"Don't think a child will be your salvation, your ticket out of here."

"No one will ever love a sinner's daughter, Aurora."

"You will remain by my side like a trophy for me to display and control."

Julian's silk shirt hung open, revealing the hard muscle forged by years of training.

I glanced at it once, then calmly looked away.

After that terrifying wedding night, Julian never touched me again.

He despised the thought of it and surrounded himself with a revolving door of mistresses.

As a result, the grandchild Don Marcus so eagerly awaited never came to be.

"Aurora," Julian called my name softly.

The gentle tone was a rarity.

I looked up. He was gazing at me, his eyes filled with undisguised mockery.

"Perhaps you should try someone new, too."

"Find a little vitality for yourself. A change of pace is always good for you."

I gave a small smile and turned to leave.

I knew he only said it to humiliate me.

If I ever acted on it, his rage would be terrifying.

"Aurora," Julian suddenly called from behind me.

I turned, confused.

He held up his phone, gesturing for me to look.

"Charity auction tonight. Be ready."

…

I was puzzled. Julian never took me to occasions like this, where the Dons of the other families would gather.

After our marriage, he wanted nothing to do with any public displays of affection.

But this time—

It wasn't until we stepped into the hotel's magnificent, gilded hall that I understood.

I was on his arm when my gaze fell upon a familiar figure at the host's table.

I froze, my feet suddenly feeling as if they were encased in lead.

Caspian Vance… he was back.

Julian felt me stiffen and whispered in my ear, "What's wrong? Excited to see your old flame doing so well?"

He looked up, following my line of sight.

Their eyes met across the room.

Julian didn't flinch, a smirk playing on his lips.

He picked up a glass of wine and strode toward Caspian.

"Mr. Vance, I've heard a great deal about you."

His playful gaze flickered to me for a moment.

Then he raised his glass to Caspian. "I hear you're an old schoolmate of Aurora's. A shame you couldn't make it to our wedding to witness my acquisition of such a cherished piece."

Caspian gave him a cool glance before his eyes slowly moved to me. "Long time no see, Aurora."

I took a deep breath, and when I spoke, an almost imperceptible tremor ran through my voice. "Hi, Caspian."

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

I could feel Julian's eyes on me, gauging my reaction.

Caspian's appearance had caught me completely off guard, stirring memories and emotions I had buried long ago.

Julian's grip on my arm tightened, a silent assertion of his control.

He continued, his voice light, almost cheerful, but I heard the blade hidden in his tone.

"You know, Caspian, Aurora rarely speaks of her past. I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on."

I glanced at Julian, trying to decipher his game.

Was this about humiliation, or was there another motive?

Caspian's eyes never left my face. "It has been a long time, Aurora."

I took another shaky breath, my voice tight and hoarse.

As teenagers, Caspian and I spent three years together in the art studio.

I still remembered when Caspian gave up his place in the family business. It baffled everyone, especially since he’d excelled in all his training.

Caspian had just glanced at me and said he wanted to build a gallery for me.

I remained silent.

Back then, I was too broken to even dare to voice the simplest dreams.

Later, Caspian anonymously submitted a painting I had restored to an exhibition.

He spread the award certificate in front of me, pointing to the words "Anonymous Restorer."

"Don't be afraid, Aurora. See? You're brilliant."

Back then, when sunlight streamed through the studio skylight, he loved to rest his head on his arms on the drawing board, facing me.

One day, as I was mixing pigments, he murmured with half-closed eyes,

"You'll restore the paintings, and I'll exhibit them. We'll never be apart."

We were so young, filled with a genuine hope for what lay ahead.

For a while, I even believed that would be our future.

On the day we were forced to part, it was pouring rain.

When I walked out of the studio, Caspian was already waiting with an umbrella.

Watching the hurried pedestrians, I nudged him.

"Caspian, shouldn't we get going?"

He moved closer, tilting the umbrella almost entirely over me.

"No. I'm not letting you get soaked. You get sick too easily."

My cheeks grew hot. Watching the cars stream past, I felt a pang of sadness.

"Caspian, after this, we won't be able to see each other every day."

He gazed into the hazy rain, a soft laugh escaping him.

"This is just for a little while. It's not goodbye forever."

The rain was too loud; I thought I might have misheard. I had to be sure.

"What did you say?"

"If you didn't hear it, then never mind."

Caspian lifted his chin, a teasing glint in his eye.

He never repeated the words, not until the moment we parted, when he pressed a cold ring into my palm.

Julian poured me a glass of whiskey and gestured with his chin.

"A reunion of old friends. Go on. Give him a toast."

At his words, a shadow flickered across Caspian's normally cool expression.

He reached out, blocking my glass.

"There's no need. She doesn't handle her liquor well."

I blinked hard, fighting the sting in my eyes as I raised the glass.

"It's fine. I'm used to it now."

He paused, then took a glass from a passing waiter and chuckled, his voice low.

"Hm. You've grown up."

The hand Julian had around my waist tightened. He looked down at me, his gaze possessive and mocking.

"Mr. Vance."

He smiled, then leaned in and planted a forceful kiss on my cheek.

"Aurora and I have some private matters to attend to, so if you'll excuse us."

The insinuation in his words was heavy.

My face went pale.

Caspian's hand shot out, grabbing Julian's arm.

Veins bulged on the back of his taut hand.

But when he turned to me, his tone softened dramatically.

"Aurora, do you want to go with him?"

Julian smiled nonchalantly, leaving the choice to me.

"Darling, he's asking you. Do you want to go with me?"

A tremor ran through me, my fingernails digging into my palms hard enough to draw blood.

I was pulled back to reality only when Caspian spoke again.

I could barely meet his eyes, my voice a ghost of a whisper.

"Caspian, we're leaving."

As the words left my mouth, I didn't dare linger.

I took Julian's arm and let him lead me away.