His brows furrowed, but I didn’t let him touch me. I turned away, forcing myself to keep moving even though every step hurt.
I reached my car and slammed the door shut. The second I was alone inside, my forehead fell against the steering wheel. A sound broke from me, small and helpless.
At four in the morning, I dragged myself home with swollen eyes. I went straight to the bathroom and scrubbed my skin until it turned red. No matter how hard I washed, I could still smell him on me. My father would never let me call the police. Even if I tried, he’d force me to drop the case and rush me into the Roberts family faster.
I bit down on my lip and told myself it was fine. Just pretend it was nothing. Pretend it was like a dog bite.
When I finally stepped out of the shower, I collapsed on my bed. My fingers brushed the photo of my mother on the nightstand. She died when I was twelve. A mistress walked into our home, flaunted herself, and broke her heart. My mother never recovered, and she died. That was the day hatred planted itself inside me. But I was too young. Too powerless. Since then, every year, I’ve had to bow my head in front of my stepmother on the day of my mother’s death.
I stared at my mother’s smile in the photo and whispered, “Mom, I tried to change my life in another chance. I tried not to be controlled. Was I really wrong?”
The moonlight poured into the room. I clutched the photo and fell asleep. In my dream, my mother stroked my cheek, “You’re not wrong, my child. Those who love you will always understand.”
Then the dream twisted back into last night, the leather couch, the heavy air, and my own helplessness.
When I woke, tears were already on my face. I forced myself to get ready, but before I could finish, the butler knocked.
“Miss, the young master of the Roberts family is here to propose. Please come to the front hall.”
My stomach dropped. Viktor moved fast. Too fast.
I steadied myself and walked out. From the hall, I heard his voice, smooth and steady, as if nothing in the world could shake him.
“Mr. Velasquez,” Viktor was saying to my father, “I want Aurelia. I’ll treat her with respect. I’m asking for your blessing.”
My father looked pleased, “If that’s your intention, we’ll have someone check your compatibility tomorrow.”
The air thickened in my chest. Marry him? That would be walking straight into his cage again! And I remembered exactly how that ended.
No. Not this time.
“Dad,” I said, stepping into the room, “I’ll agree to marry into the Roberts family. But… I have two condition.”
My father’s smile disappeared. “Aurelia, don’t speak out of turn.”
Viktor’s dark eyes landed on me. He looked dangerous, yet his tone was calm. “What is it? Say it. If it’s something I can give, I will.”
I inhaled deeply. This was a gamble. “I want a dowry of two billion dollars. And the land your family is developing in upper town. All of it in my name.” I kept my back straight, refusing to waver, praying Viktor would be furious enough to leave.
But instead, his mouth curved into something close to a smile. He leaned back, studying me like I was a puzzle he wanted to keep breaking apart.
“Two billion and UpperTown,” he said slowly, like he was savoring the taste of it. “You really surprised me, Aurelia. Looks like I’m going to enjoy this marriage.”
My heart clenched. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. His voice carried so much weight that I wanted to run but my eyes drifted toward the entrance.
And there he was. Lucian.
My breath hitched. He stood tall in the doorway, broad shoulders filling the space, his dark suit cut sharp against the light. The kind of presence that made an entire room shift without him needing to say a word. But his face… his face was cold, unreadable, and when his eyes flicked to mine, I froze.
Mr. Velasquez immediately rose from his seat, smiling nervously. “Mr. Sullivan? Didn’t expect you tonight. Something urgent?”
Lucian’s gaze lingered on me for a second before he looked at my father. “Mr. Velasquez. I came here to propose.”
My heart leapt into my throat. This is it!
“I want to marry Miss Polly Velasquez.”
What?
The words knocked the air right out of me.
For a moment I couldn’t move. I couldn't think. My chest tightened until I thought I might faint. In my past life, Lucian had never married anyone. He’d been mine, in his own quiet, stubborn way. I remembered how his ears would burn red whenever he tried to talk to me, how he’d spend everything he had to fight for me, even risk it all to give me freedom.
And now, here he was, saying he wanted my sister. My illegitimate sister. Polly.
My lips parted, but before I could speak, Polly burst forward.
“Dad!” Her voice cracked, and desperate. “I don’t want to marry him! I love Viktor!” She pointed toward the man beside me, and Viktor only leaned back in his chair, the corner of his mouth lifting in that dangerous, mocking way of his. “Please, Dad, I don’t want Lucian. Let Aurelia marry him instead. They actually make sense together. Why don’t we just switch?”
