Chapter 5
1292 Words
The ballroom was silent.
Aurora stared at the photograph in her hands, her fingers trembling.
For a moment, she forgot where she was.
She forgot the gala.
She forgot the crowd.
She forgot Damian, who was standing right in front of her.
All she saw was the photograph.
A little girl.
A rainy night.
A burning car.
And a silver pendant dangling from the child's neck.
The photograph was fifteen years old.
It was the night of the fire.
The night that only a handful of people knew about.
The night that was supposed to stay buried.
"Aurora," said Victor.
She looked up.
His eyes were full of concern.
"What is it?"
Aurora turned the photograph over in her hands.
On the back was a handwritten note.
I know what happened that night.
Her heart pounded in her chest.
Someone knew.
Or at least, they thought they did.
But how?
Only close family members knew the truth.
And even then, not everyone knew the whole story.
"Aurora?"
This time, it was Damian.
She looked up at him.
For a moment, she considered telling him everything.
Then she remembered.
He was no longer her husband.
He was no longer her safe haven.
Aurora forced a smile. "It's nothing."
Victor was not convinced, but he knew better than to press the issue in front of everyone.
The old billionaire stood and ushered her toward the exit. "We should go."
Aurora didn't argue.
Whatever this was, it could wait.
She didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone.
Across the room, people were already whispering.
They had seen the look on her face.
They wanted answers, too.
Unfortunately for them, they would have to wait.
Victor steered her toward the exit, and Sophia and Adrian fell into step behind them.
The Sinclair family was known for keeping their business private, and tonight was no different.
As they walked away, Aurora cast one last look at Damian.
His expression was worried.
It was... genuine.
It almost hurt to see.
Then she turned away.
Moments later, the Sinclairs left the gala. Inside the library of the Sinclair Estate, the atmosphere was tense.
Victor sat at his desk, and Aurora perched on the edge of a chair across from him.
Adrian leaned against a bookshelf, while Sophia paced the room.
The photograph was on the desk between them.
Everyone was looking at it.
No one was saying anything.
Finally, Victor spoke. "Who sent it?"
Aurora shook her head. "I don't know."
The old billionaire's expression darkened. "How many people know about that night?"
"Very few," said Adrian.
The investigation into the fire had been sealed away years ago.
Sophia stopped pacing and turned to face them.
"Do you think someone reopened the case?"
It was a possibility.
Aurora studied the photograph.
Memories she had tried to bury flooded back.
Rain.
Fire.
Shattered glass.
The panicked screams of the crowd.
The smell of burning wood.
Aurora closed her eyes.
"No," she said.
Everyone looked at her.
Aurora opened her eyes slowly.
"The person who sent this isn't trying to find answers.
They're trying to scare me.
They want me to know that they know."
Victor nodded. "You think they're playing a game?"
"Yes," she said.
Because if they wanted information, they would have come to her directly.
Instead, this felt personal.
Intimate, even.
It was as if the sender wanted her to feel their presence.
Their power.
The feeling was unsettling, but it was also... effective.
Victor cleared his throat. "Then let's find out who they are."
Just then, the library doors opened, and Mr. Bennett stepped inside.
The butler's usually cheerful face was grim.
"Chairman," he said.
"What is it?" asked Victor.
Mr. Bennett hesitated, then handed him a tablet.
"I believe you should see this."
Victor frowned as he took it, his expression darkening.
"What happened?"
Mr. Bennett gestured toward the screen. "There has been... an incident."
Victor turned the tablet so that Aurora could see the screen.
Her eyes narrowed as she read the article.
MYSTERIOUS INVESTOR TARGETS SINCLAIR GROUP STOCK
Aurora turned to Victor. "What does this mean?"
"It means," said Adrian, "someone is trying to take over the company."
Victor nodded. "And they're doing it very subtly."
Aurora felt her stomach twist.
It was all too convenient.
The messages.
The photograph.
Now this.
It was as if someone was trying to destroy everything the Sinclair family had built.
But why?
Meanwhile, across the city, another meeting was taking place.
The room was dimly lit, lit only by the glow of the city lights outside the large windows.
A man sat behind a desk, his face hidden in shadow.
Several monitors were positioned around the room, displaying financial reports, news articles, and photographs.
One of the photographs was of Aurora Sinclair.
The mysterious man studied it for a moment before smiling.
A slow, satisfied smile.
"Miss Sinclair left the gala early," said a woman standing next to him.
"I know," he said.
"And the message?"
The man leaned back in his chair.
"Delivered as planned."
The woman hesitated.
"Are you sure provoking her is the best course of action?"
The man's smile widened. "Very sure.
Unlike most people, I understand how Miss Sinclair thinks.
The pressure will not break her.
It will make her... act."
He picked up a file from the desk in front of him.
On the cover was a name: AURORA SINCLAIR.
Inside, the folder was filled with documents.
Financial records, photographs, newspaper clippings, and private investigations.
The woman looked uneasy.
"After all this time... why now?"
For a long moment, the mysterious man said nothing.
Then he finally answered.
"Because she's exactly where she's supposed to be."
He looked back at the photograph on the screen.
"At the center of the board." Back at the Sinclair Estate, Damian sat in his penthouse, staring out at the city.
The gala was long over, but he couldn't sleep.
His thoughts were consumed with Aurora, the photograph, and the strange message.
Something was happening, and it had nothing to do with him.
It was a bad sign, and it was making him uneasy.
His phone rang, and he answered it with a sigh.
"Hello?" he said.
"Hey, Damian," said Marcus Reed, one of his closest friends.
"What is it?"
"I heard what happened at the gala," said Marcus.
"What happened?" asked Damian.
"The whole city is talking about your ex-wife," said Marcus.
Damian pinched the bridge of his nose.
Of course they were.
"Apparently half the businessmen there tried to introduce themselves to her," said Marcus.
Damian's jaw tightened.
That was ridiculous.
He didn't want Aurora to be bothered, but it was not like he could control what other people did.
"Sounds like a mistake," said Damian.
"Hey, there it is," said Marcus.
"There what is?" asked Damian.
"That tone," said Marcus.
"What tone?" asked Damian.
"The one that says you're realizing you made a mistake," said Marcus.
Damian's expression darkened. "Goodnight, Marcus."
He ended the call.
As he stared out at the city, he pondered what Marcus had said.
A mistake.
Was that really what this was?
Damian turned away from the window.
Somewhere out there, Aurora was struggling with a problem that was none of his business.
And for the first time since their divorce, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.
Protectiveness.
The thought was annoying, because he had no business feeling that way.
The moment he signed those divorce papers, he was supposed to move on.
Unfortunately for him, his heart was not very obedient.
And neither of them knew that before the week was out, the mystery surrounding Aurora's childhood would come to light.
A mystery that had been buried for fifteen long years.
- Writer
