Chapter 108

Aurora POV

The second the Jet’s wheels hit the tarmac, my lungs feel lighter.

I didn’t realize how tightly I’d been holding my breath since that day at that restaurant when everything changed again. Since Alek had almost taken me with him before Dominic came and saved me. Since I thought Dominic might not walk out alive after all.

Miraculously, we made it.

We’re home.

Well… not home exactly, but close enough.

I glance at Dominic as we step off the jet and onto the tarmac. His stride is as purposeful as ever while he tugs me along, his hand grazing the small of my back as if to remind me that I’m his and he’s not letting me go anywhere out of his sight ever again.

There is a black car waiting for us a few yards away. As soon as we climb in, he puts the car into gear and drives. Getting back onto the main road, my eyes search out the windshield, recognizing the familiar buildings around us.

I never thought I’d be so happy to be back in the States as I am now.

Funny how things can change so vastly in a span of only a few weeks.

“Where are we going?” I ask softly.

“My place.”

The thought should intimidate me after us being apart for so long. Maybe it does, in a way, but there’s something oddly comforting about knowing I’ll be somewhere that’s completely his, somewhere Alek’s reach has never touched.

I press my hand to the window as the skyline rises around us. The sun is setting and the city glitters like it’s being set on fire.

For the first time since leaving to flee to a different country, I let myself believe things might actually be okay.

The drive isn’t long from the airport, thankfully.

The moment we get to the apartment building and up to his penthouse, I’m enveloped by the warm light and faint scent of cedarwood.

Dominic tosses his keys on the small panel jutting out of the wall next to the door before turning to me. “Welcome back home, Aurora.”

The words hit harder than I expect.

Home.

I kind of like the sound of that.

Over the next few days, my world shifts.

I move my things into his place, or what little I have left after all the drama surrounding me leaving not just for Mexico but when Dominic had put me and Gianna up in that motel for a while.

It’s surreal watching his world slowly accommodate mine. A mug of tea sits beside his black cup of coffee each morning when I rise. A silk robe in my size is hung up next to his inside the bathroom. My clothes are set next to his inside of our shared closet.

He doesn’t flinch at any of it.

In fact, he seems… weirdly content.

We fall into an easy rhythm.

Morning breakfast together in the sunlit kitchen, brief kisses pressed to my hair while I get ready for the day and he’s forced to disappear for meetings with his syndicate, quiet dinners where I catch him watching me, something unspoken flickering in his eyes.

The penthouse doesn’t feel like mine yet despite all of my things being here.

It’s beautiful, stunning even. The kind of place that belongs in glossy magazine spreads with its floor-to-ceiling windows with sprawling city views, marble floors that gleam under recessed lighting, furniture that looks handpicked by someone with more taste than I’ll ever have.

During the day when Dominic’s gone to one of his endless meetings and I’m left alone, the silence feels too loud. Almost oppressively so.

It’s hard to believe I live here now.

Actually, it’s harder to believe I’m supposed to marry the man who owns all of it.

The thought should scare me. In a way, I guess it does though not for the reasons it used to. A few weeks ago, Gianna and I were dreaming of freedom. We were two girls plotting our escape from men like Dominic and Alek.

And now I’m here, engaged to one.

I’m happy. I tell myself that every day, yet I can’t stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Alek is still out there… alive, breathing and no doubt plotting his revenge.

I see him in my dreams sometimes, his pale eyes glinting above me as his hand raises, a knife poised to cut across my throat. His voice curls in my ear each time with only one message tumbling from his lips: you’ll never be safe from me.

It doesn’t take long for Dominic to notice the tension in my shoulders each morning after I wake up.

“He’s not coming back,” he tells me over and over. “He lost too many men to be a threat to us. And he’s injured. If he’s smart, which we both know he is, he’ll keep his head down and leave us alone.”

I nod. I even smile. Yet the fear persists no matter what.

At least there’s one bright spot in all of this: Gianna is safe. She may hate me but she’s back with her father and back behind the safety of my family’s walls.

I’ve tried calling her a few times to check in on her but each one goes straight to voicemail. When I text her, there’s no reply. I knew she’d be furious and I knew she’d need space. But knowing all of that doesn’t make the silence hurt any less.

She thinks I’ve betrayed her.

Again.

Maybe she’s right.

To her, I probably look like I’ve lost my mind. Back in Dominic’s arms, living in his penthouse, helping him plan our future like none of the hell we’ve been through matters.

She doesn’t understand.

She can’t.

Until she’s felt what it’s like to be swept up in a storm like Dominic Guerrero, to be pulled into a love that’s as terrifying as it is consuming, she’ll keep thinking I’ve been brainwashed.

No matter how hard I try, I’ll never be able to explain it to her because deep down, I can’t even explain it to myself.

Dominic and I spend the next few weeks planning our wedding.

Venues. Guest lists. Colors. It’s all so surreal each time I find myself on the phone with yet another caterer or vendor.

It’s strange how domestic this all feels. Sitting cross-legged on the floor with swatches of fabric spread around us and Dominic’s large hands flipping through them as he decides which one would complement us best.

“I’m surprised… you really care about any of this?” I ask one afternoon, watching him debate between ivory and cream.

His eyes meet mine. “I care because you care.”

Something warm spreads through me and I have to look away before it shows too much on my face.

Every night night, we curl up together on the couch, my head on his chest as we watch the city lights flicker far below. Even as I drift to sleep wrapped up in him, cocooned in the warmth of his arms, I can’t stop the faint whisper of doubt in my mind.

What if Alek comes back? What if Gianna never forgives me? What if all of this is just borrowed time before the worst happens?

For now, I push it down because for the first time in a long time, I don’t want to think about the what-ifs.

I just want to think about Dominic and I’s future together.