The Billionaire's Temptation

Elara's POV

The sound of a suitcase zipper slicing through the silence made me halt in my steps. I stood frozen in the doorway of Aurelia's room, watching her shove folded clothes into her suitcase with a sharpness that didn't match her usual grace. Her shoulders were stiff, her lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn't going on vacation. She was leaving.

"Where are you going?" I asked, my voice catching halfway up my throat.

Aurelia didn't look at me. Her hand paused for a moment over a pale pink blouse—one of her favorites—and then stuffed it in as if it were something offensive. "Away," she said simply.

"Away where?" I stepped inside, my pulse starting to pick up. "What's going on?"

She let out a sigh. "Elara, please. Don't make this harder."

I blinked at her, then slowly crossed the room until I stood beside the bed. "You're leaving because of him, aren't you? That guy you were seeing. What happened?"

Aurelia hesitated, then zipped up the suitcase with a sharp tug. She finally looked at me, and her eyes were hollow. "He lied to me. He's not who he said he was. Everything... everything was fake."

"What do you mean fake?"

"His name. His stories. His future plans. He made me believe we were building something real. Then I found out he was using a different name, probably dating other women too. I don't even know if he ever meant a word of what he said."

Anger rose up like bile. "So you're just going to run? Let him win?"

"It's not about winning or losing, Elara," she snapped, and then her expression softened, guilt flashing in her eyes. "I can't stay here. Every place I look, I remember something we did. Every street, every café, every little corner—he's everywhere. And I can't breathe in a city where my memories feel like knives."

I stepped forward, grabbing her hand. "You haven't done anything wrong. You shouldn't be the one leaving. He should."

Her hand was cold in mine. She shook her head. "It's not that simple."

"Yes, it is!" My voice rose. "You've always told me to fight for what matters. Why aren't you fighting now?"

"I'm pregnant." Aurelia looked down. Her silence was louder than any scream.

"What?" I whispered in disbelief. She stood there silently with her head cast down in shame. "Hey! It's ok! We'll get through it. You don't have to worry about it just yet. You have time to think. And then whatever decision you take, I'm going to support you." I looked at her with hope.

"I just…want to be alone."

"But where will you even go?"

"I had some money saved up. I applied for a job in San Francisco last week. They hired me. Don't worry, I'll keep in touch."

"But you don't have to."

"I know. But I need to." A moment later, she gently pulled her hand from mine and picked up her suitcase.

I stood there helplessly as she brushed past me. The click of her heels in the hallway echoed like a clock ticking down. I didn't follow. Not because I didn't want to—I couldn't. My legs wouldn't move.

The next morning, her room felt like a mausoleum. Everything was still in place, but the soul was gone. The bed was made, untouched since the night before. Her favorite books were stacked neatly on the shelf. A delicate scarf still hung over her vanity mirror. But the silence—God, the silence—was unbearable.

I sat on her bed, burying my face in the pillow that still smelled faintly of her rose-scented shampoo. The tears came without warning. She was the one who used to tuck me in when I was little, who fixed my makeup when I cried over high school crushes. The one who always knew what to say. And now she was gone, just because of some man who thought he could play with her heart and vanish without consequence.

I wiped my eyes and sat up, sniffling. That's when I saw it—the edge of a photo peeking out of the trash can.

I reached over and pulled it out. The photo had a slight crease down the middle, like it had been crumpled and then flattened out again. It was of Aurelia, smiling radiantly, standing next to a tall man with dark hair and a careless smirk. His arm was around her shoulders, his head tilted slightly toward her. He looked... smug. Like he knew he didn't deserve her and didn't care.

I stared at that face, searing every detail into my mind. The strong jawline. The piercing gray eyes. The little scar above his eyebrow. He was handsome. Very Handsome. But there was something else I felt about this. Fury. Rage bubbled up from somewhere deep inside me.

He did this. He made her feel like she had no place here anymore. He made her doubt herself, doubt love, doubt everything. And he got to walk away? Smiling? Probably charming the next woman already?

I stood with the photo in my hand. I looked at her books, her scarves, the little trinkets she'd collected over the years. The things that made her who she was. And I thought of her leaving this behind. Of her breaking down in some unfamiliar city, clutching her child alone while he lived like nothing happened.

I opened my laptop and began to search through Aurelia's old social media posts, tagged photos, anything I could find. She had deleted most of their pictures, but a few comments remained. Flirty emojis. Nicknames. Useless for tracking, but they reminded me of how deeply she had trusted him. Of how cleverly he had tricked her.

That night, I couldn't sleep. I didn't know his name—Aurelia had said he lied. But I had his face. That was enough. But the only problem was, where would I find him?

And then it clicked!

Aurelia went to clubs and bars with him. It was on her profile. He must visit those places often. Right?

Opening my phone, I quickly scroll through Aurelia's Instagram profile once again, searching thoroughly to find a name. What was the name of the club they used to go to? And then I saw it.

Mystic Heaven.

The location was mentioned in one of the photos.

Bullseye!