Aurora’s POV
I watched him from across the courtyard, broad shoulders closed in a crisp army suit, hands in pockets like he owned the cell. Fred. Loyal, handsome, and utterly predictable—but that predictability was exactly why I could bend him to my will.
My heart beat faster than it should have; this wasn’t fear. This was control. I had learned early that I looked more like power, and Fred was my instrument.
“Fred,” I called softly, drawing his attention. His gaze snapped to me, alert, wary—but still soft in the corners, still vulnerable where I needed it most.
“Miss Aurora,” he said, voice low, respectful, always cautious around me. “You sounded urgent on the phone. Is everything…?” He let the sentence hang.
Good. I wanted it hanging.
I stepped closer, careful. Just enough space t
