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Her eyes glisten with tears, but she blinks them back. Chin lifting, she meets my gaze directly. "Thank you, Hadria."
The simple words undo me, and I turn away, clearing my throat. "Yes, well, she'll be arriving in an hour or so, so you should come down to the foyer around six. Wear that white thing I had sent in yesterday."
I want her in white. I like the virginal innocence it suggests. It helps keep my darker desires tamped down when I remind myself that Aurora is still untouched.
She gives a little smile. "I'll be there—if I can find the way. I still get a little lost sometimes. I have a terrible sense of direction."
"Then I'll fetch you," I say at once, "and escort you down. It would be fitting, after all."
She stares at me for a long moment, and I think her cheeks look a little pinker. "Alright," she says softly. "Thank you."
At six on the dot, I go back to her room and knock again. She opens the door with a genuine smile, and I can see now how unhappy she really has been here, until tonight.
And she's undeniably beautiful, even in a simple white shift, her hair pulled back in a low ponytail from a face that is difficult to pull my eyes away from. "I'm ready," she says with excitement. "Is she here?"
"She will be soon." I offer my hand, and she takes it, even squeezes my fingers happily. Side by side, we walk through the house until we get to the floating glass staircase that leads down into the foyer. But voices already echo up from the foyer—Sylvia Verderosa has arrived, just this moment it seems. Mrs. Graves is greeting her at the door, though I hear a questioning note in her voice.
And then Sylvia steps aside and the reason for Mrs. Graves' reluctance becomes clear as Aurora's father slinks into view.
Next to me, Aurora stifles a gasp and recoils, clutching at my arm like a lifeline.
And rage surges within me, white-hot and visceral. How dare this cretin come here, after all he has done to her?
They haven't noticed us yet, observing them from the landing. I turn, grasping Aurora's shoulders firmly until her frightened gaze meets mine. "Aurora. Do you want them to leave?" My voice is steel sheathed in silk.
She hesitates, lips trembling. I force myself to remain still, letting her decide. Finally, she whispers, "I think I'll be okay if…if you stay close."
I nod, a silent vow, before guiding her down the steps. Sylvia rushes forward with a cry, enfolding Aurora in her arms. Aurora clings to her mother, tears flowing freely now. But I stand guard, blocking her father's path when he attempts to approach.
"She's not yours to touch," I tell him. Sullen, he steps back. "I'm surprised you had the nerve to show up here, Verderosa. Or perhaps you're just that stupid."
"She's my daughter, too!" he blusters, and then grows nervous at my cool stare. "I mean…if you don't mind…Sylvia said there was a dinner…"
"As a sign of my mercy, I'll allow you to stay," I tell him at last, when I've judged he's squirmedjustenough. "But this is the last time you'll benefit from my goodwill." Aurora hasn't even heard him, at least; she's too busy answering her mother's tearful flow of questions.
I allow mother and daughter a moment more before interrupting. "Shall we adjourn to the dining room?"
Throughout the meal I keep Aurora's father firmly in my sights, interceding whenever he addresses her directly.
And under the table, Aurora's knee presses against mine like a touchstone.
And then I steer the conversation toward business, heedless of Aurora's father's protestations. I ask him how much it would take for him to see sense and turn informer on Nero for me.
"You can hardly expect…anyway, that's enough of that," he says with a weak chuckle. "The women shouldn't be bothered with such things." He indicates Sylvia and Aurora.
"The women? Iama woman. And as this is my table, my food, and my…" I trail off, meeting Aurora's eyes briefly. "…myguest, I will choose when and where to discuss business." Aurora's father shrinks under my gaze, but she's watching me closely as I continue. "In fact, I believe it's high time Aurora learned the full truth about her father." Ignoring his sputtering, I turn to Aurora and begin laying out the finer points of her father's criminal dealings.
He's not like me, of course. He's no killer, not even a made man. But he's taken part in enough thefts, swindles and embezzlements that he'd be put away for quite some time—if he didn't have the friends that he does. And he must have dirt on them, too, because no one could like this little toad for his personality.
And those secrets give him power over these so-called friends.
Aurora listens raptly. I can see the exact moment the veil lifts from her eyes. She begins to comprehend, perhaps for the first time, the true depth of her father's dishonor. The conversation continues, but Aurora does not waver. She absorbs the ugliest of realities without flinching.
And my respect for her strengthens.
Her mother just sits there, staring at her plate. Sylvia's either heard all this before or she suspected it already.
Halfway through dessert, my head bodyguard comes in and speaks softly in my ear. "A group of petitioners from the Sokolovbratva, Hades."
