Chapter 114

Aurora POV

There’s the faintest smile tugging at her mouth, but it fades just as quickly as it comes. “I wish I could go too.”

The words hang heavy between us. I lean forward on the cushion. “Why can’t you?”

Her gaze flicks away, shoulders curling in a little. There’s a vulnerability too her now that I’m not used to seeing. Gianna is always such a strong-headed person, why would she be feeling insecure? “Because my dad’s refusing to let me out of the house for the time being. He’s still freaked out that I got taken and held captive. You don’t know what I had to go through to even come over here.”

That makes my chest ache. I know all too well what it feels like to be trapped in a gilded cage. Hell, I’d grown up in one my entire life. “Gianna… that’s not fair. You should be able to do something for yourself too.”

“I know,” she sighs, twisting her tea cup between her hands, the liquid barely touched. “But he’s stubborn when he’s scared. And so is Francesco. It’s making a mess of everything. None of them will listen, especially my dad.”

I want to argue, tell her that she’s not a prisoner and she shouldn’t let him make her one, but I also know all too well that it’s pointless. I understand Stefano’s hesitation. I really do. He never expected his own daughter to be the one that needed saving. Unlike me.

I’m a wildcard but Gianna? She was never meant to be far away from him.

It does worry me that if his paranoia continues, he’ll never let her go. And what kind of life is that?

“What if… what if he never lets you go? What if this becomes your life now?”

She doesn’t answer right away. She just stares into her cup. “I’m not sure. I hope that’s not the case but… who knows.”

We change the subject after that, sliding into safer territory and catch up on what’s been going on at the Caruso estate. She tells me about the constant security checks, my father’s late-night meetings with various other organizations within the city, and how the guards have been doubled at every possible entrance.

I listen, making the occasional comment, but mostly I’m just relieved she’s here in front of me. Talking to me like nothing’s changed even though I know the people we went to Mexico as never came back.

We’re different now. Changed. It’s not a bad thing but now we need to find a new normal.

The sound of the front door opening cuts through our conversation. My body tenses instinctively before I hear Dominic’s voice, low and unmistakable, calling out to me followed by the heavier footsteps of someone else.

I glance toward the entryway just in time to see him accompanied by Romero.

Dominic looks the same as always—composed, controlled—but Romero… he looks at Gianna like she’s a complication he didn’t sign up for. And then, almost imperceptibly, something else flickers in his expression.

I stare at him in disbelief.

Gianna stiffens under his gaze. “Romero…”

“Gianna.” His tone is clipped, but there’s an undercurrent there.

What the hell is going on?

They stay like that for a beat too long, staring at each other, and I feel like I’m intruding on something I’m not supposed to see. Something… private. The air between them hums with a strange energy. It’s not exactly hostile, but not friendly either.

It’s some weird in between.

I glance at Dominic, but he’s busy pulling out his phone to text someone, so I keep my mouth shut and just observe.

Romero steps forward, addressing Gianna directly. “I’ll take you home. It’s getting late. Your father will want you home.”

She blinks, glances at me, then nods slowly. “Right. Yeah.”

We hug at the door, the kind of hug that’s both too short and too tight.

“Don’t be a stranger,” I whisper against her shoulder.

“Same to you,” she says back, though I can hear the doubt in her voice.

I watch as she leaves with Romero, their figures disappearing once the elevator doors shut behind them. The way he keeps just half a step ahead of her, but glances over his shoulder every so often… it’s oddly protective.

Too protective for someone who’s supposedly just following Dominic’s orders, whatever they may be.

Perhaps he’s not just doing it because Dominic told him to. Maybe it’s all something else entirely.

When I turn back, Dominic is standing in the living room with a stack of papers in his hand. My stomach drops when I realize what they are: the pamphlets I printed out for the universities.

My first thought is to panic—my chest going tight, my breath shortening.

I imagine him tearing them in half, his voice cold as he tells me to forget the idea entirely. My mind flashes to Gianna’s words earlier about her father locking her away and suddenly I’m terrified Dominic might do the same thing to me.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, he looks at me, holding the pamphlets lightly in his hand. “Do you really want to go to school?”

I frown, twisting my fingers in front of me. “Will you be mad if I say yes?”

“Why would you think I would be?” His voice is unreadable.

I bite my lip. “You said it was a waste of time last night. I know I won’t need to get a job or anything but…”

He’s silent for a moment, watching me like he’s trying to read every thought running through my head. “I suppose I’ll ask again: do you really want this? To go to school and get a degree?”

My pulse quickens. “…Yes, I do.”

The words come out a little steadier than I feel, so I press on.

“I’ve never had any kind of formal education. I’m tired of just… existing. Sitting around, looking pretty, being someone’s ornament. I’ve done that all my life with my father until he could marry me off to his closest ally. Now that I’m no longer in that situation, I want to do something real with my life, even if it’s just learning for the sake of learning.”

His expression shifts slightly at that, but I can’t tell if it’s approval or something else.

I swallow around the lump forming in my throat. “I don’t even know exactly what I’d study yet… but I know I can’t just stay here forever, doing nothing, while you’re out there running the city. I need something of my own.”

I brace myself for him to tell me no. To dismiss me with a wave of his hand, the way powerful men often do when the women in their lives want something inconvenient.

But instead, he steps closer, holding my gaze. “Then… we’ll talk about it. See what programs are out there and where you may feel you want to go.”

It’s not a yes, but it’s also not a no either.

For now, that’s enough to make my chest feel a little lighter.