Chapter Ten
986 Words
Shadows Behind the Truth
Aurora couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her.
It followed her throughout the day.
From her morning lecture to lunch with Lily.
From the crowded hallways to the quiet corners of the library.
Every time she looked over her shoulder, she found nothing.
No suspicious faces.
No obvious threats.
Just students going about their lives.
Yet the feeling remained.
And she hated it.
"You've been staring at the same page for twenty minutes."
Aurora blinked.
Lily sat across from her in the cafeteria, looking concerned.
"What?"
"The page."
Lily pointed at the notebook in front of her.
"You haven't written a single word."
Aurora glanced down.
Sure enough, the page was completely blank.
"Maybe I'm thinking."
"Maybe you're overthinking."
That was probably true.
Aurora sighed and closed the notebook.
"I can't help it."
Lily's expression softened.
"The attacks?"
Aurora nodded.
The news had only gotten worse overnight.
More reports.
More rumors.
More questions.
And still no answers.
"What if Lord Whitmore was right?" Aurora asked quietly.
Lily frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"What if someone really is targeting powerful families?"
The question hung between them.
For once, Lily didn't immediately have a joke ready.
Because both of them knew it was possible.
Maybe even likely.
Before either could say more, Aurora's phone vibrated.
A text message.
Her stomach tightened when she saw the sender.
Lorenzo.
A smile appeared before she could stop it.
Unfortunately, Lily noticed.
Immediately.
"Oh, that's him."
Aurora rolled her eyes.
"You don't even know who it is."
"I absolutely do."
Aurora looked at the message.
Meet me at the library after class. We need to talk.
Her smile vanished.
Need to talk?
That didn't sound good.
The rest of the afternoon passed painfully slowly.
By the time Aurora reached the library, her nerves were already stretched thin.
She found Lorenzo waiting near one of the private study rooms.
His expression told her everything.
Something had happened.
Again.
"What's wrong?"
Lorenzo closed the door behind them.
For a moment, he simply looked at her.
Then he placed a folder on the table.
Aurora's stomach dropped.
She was beginning to hate folders.
Nothing good ever came from them.
"What is it?"
Lorenzo sat down.
"Information."
"About the attacks?"
He nodded.
Aurora immediately pulled the folder closer.
Inside were newspaper clippings.
Photographs.
Names.
Dates.
Her pulse quickened.
The more she read, the worse it became.
Because there was a pattern.
A very clear pattern.
The victims weren't random.
Every family that had been targeted shared connections.
Business partnerships.
Political alliances.
Historical ties.
And one particular name appeared repeatedly.
Aurora froze.
"No way."
Lorenzo's jaw tightened.
"You see it too."
She looked up.
"The Kingsleys."
The royal family.
Her family.
Several targeted individuals had direct or indirect ties to the Kingsleys.
The realization sent a chill through her.
"And that's not all."
Lorenzo slid another photograph across the table.
Aurora stared at it.
Her heart nearly stopped.
It was Lord Whitmore.
The photograph had clearly been taken without his knowledge.
"What is this?"
"We found it during our investigation."
Aurora looked up sharply.
"Our?"
"The De Luca security team."
That made sense.
The attacks had affected his family too.
Still...
"Why are they watching him?"
Lorenzo hesitated.
Aurora didn't like that hesitation.
Not one bit.
Finally, he answered.
"Because we don't know which side he's on."
The room suddenly felt too small.
"That's impossible."
"Maybe."
"You don't know him."
"No," Lorenzo admitted.
"I don't."
Aurora looked back at the photograph.
Her thoughts raced.
Lord Whitmore had warned her.
But what if Lorenzo was right?
What if there was more to the story?
For the first time, uncertainty crept in.
And uncertainty was dangerous.
A loud crash echoed from somewhere outside.
Both of them jumped.
Aurora's heart pounded.
The library fell strangely silent.
Several students turned toward the noise.
"What was that?" she whispered.
Lorenzo was already standing.
His expression had changed completely.
The relaxed university student disappeared.
In his place stood the future head of the De Luca empire.
Alert.
Focused.
Dangerous.
"Stay here."
Aurora immediately stood.
"Not happening."
Lorenzo looked annoyed.
Aurora didn't care.
"If something's wrong, I'm not sitting here alone."
For a second, he looked like he wanted to argue.
Then he sighed.
"Fine."
Together, they stepped into the hallway.
Students were gathering near the main entrance.
Whispers spread through the crowd.
Confusion.
Concern.
Fear.
Aurora pushed forward until she could finally see what everyone was staring at.
And froze.
A large black envelope lay on the floor.
Directly beneath the university's welcome sign.
No stamp.
No address.
Nothing.
Just one symbol drawn across the front in red ink.
A crown.
Split down the middle.
Aurora felt the blood drain from her face.
Because she recognized it.
Not from the news.
Not from a newspaper.
From a history book inside the royal archives.
A symbol connected to an old enemy of the Kingsley family.
One that was supposed to have disappeared decades ago.
"No..."
Lorenzo looked at her.
"What is it?"
Aurora couldn't answer.
Not immediately.
Because if she was right...
Then this wasn't just an attack.
It wasn't just a conspiracy.
It was something much older.
Something far more dangerous.
And somehow, she had just become part of it.
Later that night, far from the university, the mysterious man sat in the same dark office.
Another photograph rested on his desk.
This time, it showed Aurora and Lorenzo leaving the library together.
The man smiled.
Slowly.
Patiently.
As though everything was happening exactly as planned.
Then he reached for a second photograph.
A much older one.
Faded with age.
The image showed two families standing side by side.
The Kingsleys.
And the De Lucas.
Across the photograph, a single word had been written in black ink.
TRAITORS.
The man's smile widened.
"The past always comes back," he murmured.
And with that, he switched off the light.
- Writer
