Chapter 66

Aurora POV

I have to keep my face buried in the pillow when he fucks me that night.

I can’t look or meet the eyes of the man who betrayed my best friend. The man who placed a ring on my finger with one hand and handed Gianna over to a bratva leader with the other. The man I thought I had been falling for like the damn fool I am who isn’t the man I thought he was.

I keep my face hidden not just because I’m disgusted but because if I see the face that once made my chest ache and my stomach flutter, I’ll crack. I’ll scream and cry and throw my fists against his chest until he finally knows what he’s done.

As much as I want him to pay, I can’t afford to fuck things up now so I stay silent.

So, I let him thrust into me slow and deep, just the way he knows I like it. The sex is still good of course, my body doesn’t know it has been betrayed, it only knows his touch. His mouth on my neck. The way he presses his hand to my lower back and holds me exactly where he wants me as he hits my deepest parts.

Even as I moan and arch for him and grip the sheets while my body unravels, my stomach curls with revulsion.

This isn’t love or the safety I had been promised. I can see this act, the charade he’s put on, for what it really is: control.

When it’s over, Dominic doesn’t even hesitate. He wraps his arm around me and pulls me flush against his chest, curling around my body like I’m the only thing in the world that matters. I close my eyes and pray for the strength not to cry.

It’s going to be a long few days but I need to wait and ide my time. Find the right moment to slip away from his watchful eyes and run like hell with Gianna in tow.

Thankfully, it seems he hasn’t caught on yet.

He still looks at me with soft eyes come the morning, still kisses my temple before pouring my coffee, still asks if I slept okay and if I’m excited for the wedding.

I smile and kiss him back, lying through my teeth with each and every answer that I give him.

The entire rest of the week is brutal.

He’s more affectionate than usual. Gentle in ways he never used to be—rubbing small circles into my lower back when I’m cooking, brushing hair from my eyes like it means something, kissing my fingers as he walks past me in the hall. And the worst part? I want to believe it. I ache to believe it.

But I can’t.

Every kiss tastes like manipulation now. Those gentle touches feel like they’re there to keep me docile, like some kind of leashed pet wrapped in velvet.

It’s wearing me down day by day, killing me slowly. I don’t sleep well. I lie awake most nights, staring up at the ceiling while Dominic breathes quietly beside me, and wonder if I’m insane for still hoping there’s a sliver of good inside him.

But I can’t trust a word that comes out of his mouth. Not after what Alek claimed when he would have no reason to lie. And Dominic? Oh, he had explanations. Said Alek had twisted things, that he never promised Gianna to anyone, that Alek came to the States of his own volition, hoping to charm her into accepting the proposal even without Dominic’s approval.

Right. As if any of that makes sense after the track record I know that man has.

There is no reason for Alek to come here under false pretenses. He’s a wanted man by not one but two syndicates. Alek wouldn’t risk flying across oceans, bringing his men into foreign territory, just to woo a woman he’s never met. It wouldn’t make sense.

Besides, how would Alek have known Gianna even existed if Dominic never presented her to him as an option in the first place? This is textbook what these types of men do—they trade us around like we’re nothing more than glorified sex dolls, discarding us when we’re no longer useful to them.

It makes me sick.

I still don’t know what happened after their “private conversation” they had the day Alek arrived but Gianna hasn’t heard from him again. No more visits, just... silence. Somehow that feels worse than the visit itself.

It’s foreboding. Almost like Dominic made another promise to Alek. Maybe he told Alek to give him time to talk to Gianna. Soften her up and convince her it’s a good deal. Or hell, maybe he’d asked for time to convince me.

It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.

Because I see it clearly now: Dominic is no different from the rest of them. Just another powerful man who sees women like napkins. Use, discard, replace.

He may say all the right things but at the end of the day, Gianna was a bargaining chip to him. Just like I had been at one point too.

I was just stupid enough to fall for it.

At the beginning of the following week, Dominic informs me he has a meeting with my father and the inner circle. I nod with a smile, barely caring at all what bullshit he tries to tell me it’s about as he kisses me goodbye.

His lips linger longer than they need to. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Okay,” I whisper, my voice the perfect mix of sweet and soft.

And then he’s gone.

I exhale for the first time in days.

Now, it’s go time.

My hands tremble as I text Gianna: We’re doing it today. Get ready.

She replies instantly: Tell me what to do.

Dominic left Luca and Marco behind to keep an eye on us in case Alek returned. Thankfully those two have grown soft for us. Too soft, one might argue. They trust us now.

That’s their mistake.

After texting Gianna back to tell her to get her things ready to run the moment I say go, I head over to the motel room next to ours and knock on the door. As soon as it swings open, I plaster a smile on my face. “Hey, you two want to come hang out for a bit? We were getting kind of bored and figured it would be fun if we all had a game night. Maybe we can order pizza, too.”

“You offering food and company? Are we dreaming?” Luca jokes.

“Nope.” I reply. “Come on over.”

Gianna already has two drinks prepared, iced coffees laced with enough sedatives to drop a grown man within fifteen minutes, by the time we all make our way back over. She offers them up like it’s nothing. Getting them laughing and joking while I break out the Scrabble and pretend to phone in for a pizza.

Luca and Marco don’t suspect a thing. Once they’re drinking, it’s just a matter of time.

Two minutes, three minutes, five. It ticks on at an excruciating pace.

Gianna and I excuse ourselves for a moment, pretending we need to grab some more things from the kitchen as the boys continue to down their drinks and fight over their spots on the board.

Once Gianna and I are in the kitchen, I grip her arm tightly. “Ten minutes. Maybe less. You get your things all set?”

She nods. “Yup. Ready to go when you are.”

Perfect.

By the time we return to the living room, both twins are slumped over on the couch out cold. Gianna and I share a look, breathing in deeply as the plan is now officially set into more.

We don’t hesitate.

We grab our things and run.