Bruce, do you have any idea what's going on?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at the sudden commotion in the mansion's courtyard. "No, ma'am," Bruce replied, glancing toward the flurry of servants hanging gold drapes across the balcony. "I'm not entirely sure. But… from the look of things, and with how the house is being decorated, I'd say a party is definitely about to happen."
A party?
I stepped into the mansion, my heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. The grand chandelier above was blazing brighter than usual, casting an almost theatrical glow over the hall. Halfway down the corridor, Dad appeared. He was dressed unusually sharp, his suit perfectly pressed, his expression unreadable. He motioned for me to come closer. His sudden change in attitude made me pause for a heartbeat, but curiosity pulled me forward.
"Yes, Dad? "Aurora," he began, his voice smooth but calculated, "as you can see, a party will be held tomorrow night. That's the reason for the decorations."
I blinked. "And… this party is in your honor."
My eyes widened. "My… honor? But—why?"
"You don't need to know the details," he cut me off with a cold smile. "All you have to do is invite your close friends. And one more thing tomorrow, you are not to step outside this mansion. Your mother has already arranged for some beauticians to take care of you."
I hesitated, his words sending a ripple of unease through me. "…Alright." I gave him a small nod and hurried to my room, my mind racing.They've never thrown a party for me. Not once. So why now? And why did it feel like the walls of this mansion were slowly closing in? Shaking my head, I grabbed my phone and called Angel. "Bestie, this might sound awkward, but… you're invited to a party at my place tomorrow. Please make sure Maxwell comes too."
Angel's voice sharpened with suspicion. "Your parents have never thrown a party for you. Why now?" I don't even understand it myself. Maybe… maybe they want to introduce me to their business partners. Or…" I trailed off, my unease gnawing at me. "I don't know."
"It's fine. We'll be there," she said, though her tone told me she was unconvinced.When I hung up, I let out a deep sigh. The bad feeling in my chest wouldn't go away. Eventually, I lay down, staring at the ceiling until sleep pulled me under.
Charles Brooks sat in his private study, the dim light from his desk lamp throwing shadows across his calculating face. He swirled the brandy in his glass, his lips curling into a thin smile.Tomorrow, he would finally announce Aurora's marriage… to Mark.
The moment he received confirmation from his personal assistant that Mark had agreed to the arrangement, Charles had felt a surge of triumph. Soon, he would finally get rid of his daughter a burden he had long grown tired of.
He chuckled to himself, the sound low and wicked. "By this time tomorrow… you won't even know what hit you, my dear daughter."
In a sleek penthouse across the city, Mark was lounging in his leather chair, his sharp gaze fixed on Paul, his assistant, who was holding a thick folder. What did you find out about her?" Mark asked, his voice dangerously calm.This file contains all her information, sir." Then hand it over, Paul. Why are you standing there like an idiot?" Mark's voice snapped like a whip.Paul flinched, stepping forward quickly. Mark snatched the file and flipped it open. His eyes froze for a second before narrowing.
"Are you sure she's the one?" he asked, his tone low and dangerous. "Yes, sir. She's Charles Brooks' only daughter Aurora Brooks. A surgeon, an influencer, and a fashionista—"
"Shut up," Mark barked, slamming the file shut. "I can read." Paul swallowed hard.
Mark's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Call Charles. Tell him I accept his offer… but on my terms. I won't just marry his daughter I will buy her. If he doesn't agree…" His eyes turned cold. "…remind him of the consequences."
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering on the photograph clipped to the file a stunning young woman with a radiant smile.
Aurora Brooks. "The same girl I admired once…" His voice was barely above a whisper, but laced with venom. "Because of you, I lost Ralph. If I hadn't been distracted by your beauty, she wouldn't have betrayed me. And now…"
He ran his thumb across her picture before crushing it in his fist.
"…now I'll make your life a living hell. Behind that pretty face, I'm certain there's a rotten core after all, you're Charles's daughter. And I'll peel back every layer until you break."
Mark's jaw tightened, his knuckles white around the crumpled photograph. "You'll pay. You'll pay for every damn thing."