Aurora’s POV
I was inside my room when I had a knock. The moment I opened the door, the scent of his cologne hit me like a ghost from a past I wanted buried. Jake.
He stood there, tall, broad-shouldered, with that same arrogant smirk that once made my heart skip and now made my stomach twist.
Rain clung to his leather jacket, dripping onto the marble floor of Zayne’s mansion.
His blue eyes scanned everywhere, sharp as blades, but there was a strange softness beneath them, a dangerous practice that is soft, known too well.
“Aurora,” he called my name like a secret he wanted to own again. “We need to talk.”
“Talk what?” I crossed my arms. “There’s nothing left to talk about, Jake. You made your choice. You left.”
He stepped inside before I could stop him. The air thickened with tens
