Aurora's POV
I stood in the office restroom, staring at the woman in the mirror like she was a stranger. I had used three layers of concealer, but my eyes were still puffy, the edges raw from a night of crying. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the sensation of his tongue on my skin, followed immediately by the cold, dark image of that tattoo.
My parents' killer had touched me. And I had moaned for him.
I smoothed out my professional pencil skirt, my hands still shaking. I had to be the perfect assistant today. I couldn't let Alpha Oliver notice something was wrong.
I walked toward his office, my heart doing a slow, painful thud against my ribs. I pushed open the heavy mahogany doors, clutching a stack of morning reports.
"Good morning, Alpha Oliver," I said, my voice forced and tight.
He didn't look up from his tablet. He was dressed in a charcoal gray suit, looking every bit the powerful, untouchable billionaire. But as I stepped closer to his desk, the scent hit me.
