My Possessive Lover's Perfect Revenge

“Darkness like a lover!”

AURORA'S POV

I dared not.

Sorry to burst your bubbles, but I'm not that impulsive. The minute I dare tell anyone that Desmond and I are married, I can't even begin to imagine where that would lead.

I very much prefer leaving this marriage without causing a scandal to my name. Thank you!

Instead, I smiled tightly and walked past the security guard.

Inside, the ballroom was golden and alive. Crystal chandeliers, cigarette smoke, expensive laughter. I moved through the crowd with practiced ease, heels clicking like war drums. I might not be known to anyone as Desmond's wife, but still, I knew how to act the part very well.

I reached him, my confidence reduced just a tad little bit as I saw both of them together.

Vivienne was already seated beside him in the VIP booth. Her manicured hand was on his thigh, her smile sweet enough to rot teeth.

I almost chuckled out loud in disbelief, but I didn't. Instead, I played my role. Nodding at him, I took the lower seat—his secretary, apparently. Another jab to my pride.

Desmond didn’t look at me, didn’t say a word. He sipped his scotch, lips brushing the rim she kissed minutes ago. Vivienne glanced at me, feigning concern.

“Are you okay, Aurora?” she purred, tilting her head. You look… pale. Maybe try a different foundation next time.”

I smiled without showing my teeth. “You look flushed, Vivienne. I’d suggest water, but we both know dehydration isn’t the problem.”

She blinked—one second too slow—and then her mask returned.

I stood up. “Excuse me.”

I barely moved when I felt cold hands wrap around my wrist. I turned to her, glaring.

She, on her part, smiled sweetly while tightening her hold on me. I winced lightly.

I parted my lips to speak, but she spoke first. “You just got here, Aurora. You're not going to introduce yourself to the guests.”

I wanted to snatch my hand away, and probably slap her, but I couldn't do that. Like I said, the last thing I act on is impulse. Crazy shits happen when I do that, story for another day.

Instead, I put on the widest smile I could manage. “Miss Monroe, I'm sure everyone on this table knows me as Mr. Rossi’s secretary. But of course, how would you know that when you've been away seeking validation?”

Her eyes darkened. I took the chance, and pulled my hand away. “Pardon my tone,” I said before Desmond lashed out at me.

“Excuse me," I said again.

My heels carried me to the restroom, through thick perfume and cigarette haze. It wasn’t until I reached the door that I realized Vivienne had followed.

She slipped in after me, locking the door with a click.

“What are you doing here, Vivienne?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, arms crossed. “He’s not yours. He never was.”

I said nothing. My silence was a blade. It made her angrier.

“I always wondered how he'd put up with you all this time. You’re not pretty enough to be his wife. Not strong enough for this life. He deserves someone who understands what loyalty means. Someone who sparks fire in him like no one else. We both know that isn't you, honey.”

“Oh it isn't. "It sure as hell isn't me. "But someone like his wife's sister?” I asked quietly.

Her eyes narrowed. “I'm not your sister, Aurora. Stop dreaming so big. You don't even leave a speck on me."

I scoffed. "Yeah, right! Yet, you follow me to a public restroom to probably tell me to stay away from my husband.”

She frowned. “You can’t win, Aurora. You’ve already lost. I’m just here to sweep up the pieces.”

I snorted. “Can you just leave already? I have pressing business to attend to, and they're actually significant."

Her frown deepened. “You seem to have a lot to say, Rory. Go on and rap with your mouth. Let's see who comes to your rescue now."

I didn't understand what she meant, until she walked out of the room swiftly, and I heard the sound of the door clicking shut.

My eyes widened. I remembered the sign I'd seen hanging outside on the door. If she slipped that in, too, no one would think of coming here.

With a perfectly tuned voice, she said, “Out of order.” She scoffed. “Have fun in there, sister.” The sarcasm in her words was dripping. I could tell she was smirking as she walked away.

I didn't realize when my heart started pounding. “Vivienne…”

I was locked in, alone again.

The perfume turned bitter, way too quickly. The scent of roses clung to the air, sweet, and heavy at first, but now it choked me. I pounded against the bathroom door, palms sore, voice hoarse.

“Hello? Can anyone hear me?!”

Nothing.

Laughter echoed from the ballroom, blurred and distant. Crystal glasses clinking, heels clicking. The world outside carried on while I rotted behind golden wallpaper.

I kicked the door again, long forgetting that I'd wanted to pee. “Please… someone…!”

My voice cracked. This had to be a joke. A sick, twisted prank. Vivienne couldn’t have actually…

She could.

She already did.

I reached for my phone, fingers shaking, but it had no signal. Of course. Perfect timing!

My stomach twisted. Pain rippled through my abdomen—sharp and stabbing. The pain persisted, getting worse as I kept banging on the door. At first, I thought it was just stress. Plus, I hadn't eaten anything all day. That had to be it. Right?

My luck must have been cursed because that definitely wasn't it. The next minute, heat rash between my thighs.

I looked down.

Blood. Blood?

It wasn't a trickle of blood. It was a flood.

What the f**k!

I stumbled backward, clutching the counter, breathing like I was drowning. My heart slammed against my ribs, my vision blurring. Was I dying?

Blood? Why was I bleeding? It wasn't my period, then why… Another cramp tore through me. I collapsed onto the cold tile floor.

My screams got softer now. “Please… help…”

Nobody came.

The chandeliers kept sparkling outside. The orchestra kept playing, and my body bled like it was punishing me for staying this long.

Darkness slid in like a lover, like the lover I'd always known — cold and cruel.