River walked toward her, slow and predatory, the air thick with unspoken things. Aurora's heart pounded louder than her heels had earlier. She couldn't move, couldn't think—not when he looked like that, smelled like danger, and walked like he broke commandments for breakfast.
But just as he reached her, just as the tension curled so tight it could snap—
BANG!
The heavy door slammed open.
"River!" a voice rang out, loud and entitled.
Aurora jolted, nearly tripping over her own dignity.
It was her—his stepsister. The tall, designer-drenched vixen who'd introduced Aurora on her first day, with her perfect eyeliner and "I summer in Monaco" attitude. She swept in like a gust of expensive wind.
"There you are," she said, walking straight up to him. "You're late for the dinner with the Greeks. Again."
River didn't break eye contact with Aurora.
" go home," he murmured, deep and deadly.
Aurora didn't wait for another command. She turned, heart hammering, and walked out of there like the floor was lava and he was the devil.
---
Later That Night
Aurora's Apartment – 11:41 PM
Aurora curled up on the couch in an oversized hoodie, while Mia sat cross-legged in leggings and a crop top, already two shots ahead. A half-eaten bowl of popcorn sat between them. Beside it? A nearly empty bottle of vodka.
"What the hell is this combo?" Aurora asked, chuckling.
"Popcorn for my soul. Vodka for the trauma," Mia replied, tossing popcorn in her mouth like a philosopher. "Also, you're welcome for saving your taste buds from kale chips."
They clinked glasses and took a shot.
Then Mia fixed her with that look—the one that meant she was about to drop serious girl truth.
"Listen. You need to be careful with that man," she said.
Aurora rolled her eyes. "Oh God, not you too."
"No, seriously. River Damon isn't just sexy-rich. He's mafia-rich. Dangerous-rich. Girls in this city go missing after sleeping with men like that. You think he just happened to pick you out of the office full of desperate women in pencil skirts? He's playing you, Ro."
Aurora scoffed. "That's flattering."
Mia narrowed her eyes. "Do you honestly think a man like River Damon would hit on an assistant—you—just for fun?"
Aurora's jaw dropped. "Wow. Okay. That's an insult and a half."
Mia shrugged unapologetically. "I'm your best friend. I tell you the truth, not fairy tales."
They both took another sip, the vodka burning hot in their chests.
Just as Aurora was about to fire back something sarcastic, there was a knock at the door.
She blinked. "Who the hell is that at midnight?"
Mia grabbed a pillow. "If it's River, I'm jumping out the window."
Aurora padded to the door, peeked through the peephole—then immediately froze.
Her blood turned to slush.
It was him.
Her ex.
The same bastard who cheated on her. The same one who broke her heart and sent her drunk-crying into that bar the night she met River.
She cracked the door open a few inches.
"What the hell do you want?"
He looked . "Can we talk?"
Behind her, Mia was already mouthing don't you dare and aiming an imaginary gun.
Aurora stared at him coldly. "You're the reason I got blackout drunk and ended up screwing a mafia boss in a Bugatti."
His eyebrows shot up. " wait What?!"
She slammed the door shut in his face.
Then turned to Mia.
"More vodka?"
Mia raised the bottle. "Girl, I was born ready."
They drank like the apocalypse was scheduled for morning.