Another Hell or Heaven?
898 Words
Aurora’s entire body froze.
For one horrifying second, she thought she had imagined the voice outside her door.
Deadly calm.
"Miss Aurora Sinclair."
The air left her lungs.
Downstairs, she could still hear raised voices—Seraphina shrieking, Vivienne arguing furiously, Richard trying and failing to sound composed.
Aurora stumbled off the bed, heart hammering violently against her ribs.
Why would someone like Alessandro Moretti come here?
For her?
No.
Impossible.
There had to be some mistake.
Alessandro Moretti entered the room.
Aurora forgot how to breathe.
He was taller than she expected.
Dark hair slightly damp from the rain.
Sharp features carved with terrifying precision.
And those gray eyes—
cold enough to make winter feel warm.
His gaze swept across the tiny room.
The thin blanket.
The cracked walls.
The bruises barely hidden beneath Aurora’s sleeves.
Something unreadable flickered across his face.
Then his eyes settled on her.
Aurora instinctively lowered her head.
"You’re Aurora Sinclair?"
His voice was deep. Smooth.
The kind of voice that didn’t need to be loud to command obedience.
"Y-Yes…"
Silence.
Long.
Heavy.
Then Alessandro stepped closer.
Aurora’s pulse became erratic immediately.
He stopped directly in front of her, staring down at her trembling figure with unsettling intensity.
"You look different from your photograph."
Aurora swallowed nervously. "I’m sorry."
One of Alessandro’s brows lifted slightly.
"For what?"
She opened her mouth—
then closed it again.
Because she genuinely didn’t know.
She apologized so often it had become instinct.
Another silence followed.
Then Alessandro removed his gloves slowly.
"Pack your things."
Aurora blinked.
"W-What?"
"You’re leaving with me."
The room spun.
"No—there must be some misunderstanding—"
"There isn’t."
His tone remained calm.
Which somehow made him even scarier.
Aurora took an unconscious step back. "I can’t leave without Father’s permission—"
"You already have it."
The words shattered something inside her.
Her father agreed?
Just like that?
No hesitation?
No argument?
A strange ache spread through her chest.
Alessandro noticed.
Of course he noticed.
Those eyes missed nothing.
"You have five minutes."
Then he turned and walked out of the room.
Like he already knew she would obey.
--------------------
Twenty minutes later—
Aurora stood outside the Sinclair mansion holding a single worn suitcase.
Not one person came to say goodbye.
Vivienne only looked relieved.
Seraphina looked furious.
And Richard?
Richard merely adjusted his cufflinks before saying coldly,
"Don’t embarrass this family."
Family.
Aurora nearly laughed at the irony.
Rain poured heavily as Alessandro’s men loaded her suitcase into a sleek black car worth more than Aurora could probably earn in ten lifetimes.
Alessandro entered the vehicle without another word.
Aurora hesitated before climbing in carefully beside him.
The second the door shut—
silence swallowed everything.
The car smelled faintly of cedarwood and expensive cologne.
Aurora sat stiffly near the window, hands clenched tightly in her lap.
She didn’t dare look at him directly.
But she could feel his gaze occasionally drifting toward her.
Studying.
Analyzing.
As if trying to solve a puzzle.
Hours passed before the car finally slowed.
Aurora looked outside—
and her breath stopped.
The Moretti mansion looked less like a home and more like an empire.
Massive iron gates.
Endless marble staircases.
Fountains illuminated beneath silver moonlight.
The estate stretched across the hills like something pulled from a dark fairytale.
Aurora suddenly became painfully aware of her cheap clothes and trembling hands.
She didn’t belong here.
She never would.
The car stopped at the entrance.
Before Aurora could react, one of the guards opened her door.
Alessandro stepped out first.
Rain had stopped now, leaving the night cold and quiet.
Servants immediately lined near the entrance, bowing respectfully the moment Alessandro approached.
But their eyes widened slightly when they saw Aurora.
Confusion.
Curiosity.
Shock.
Alessandro ignored all of it.
"Come."
Aurora followed silently.
Inside, the mansion was breathtaking.
Crystal chandeliers.
Black marble floors.
Paintings that probably belonged in museums.
Everything screamed wealth and power.
Aurora felt smaller with every step.
A middle-aged woman approached respectfully. "Welcome back, sir."
Alessandro nodded once. "Prepare the east guest room."
Guest room.
The words strangely relieved Aurora.
At least he wasn’t expecting her to share his room.
The woman glanced briefly at Aurora before nodding. "Of course."
Alessandro finally looked at Aurora again.
"You’ll stay in the guest wing from now on."
Aurora lowered her gaze quickly. "Thank you."
He studied her expression carefully.
"You’re frightened of me."
It wasn’t a question.
Aurora immediately shook her head. "No."
A lie.
An obvious one.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You shouldn’t lie unless you’re good at it."
Aurora’s cheeks burned in humiliation.
Alessandro stepped closer.
Too close.
Close enough for Aurora to notice the scar near his wrist.
Close enough to feel the terrifying calm radiating from him.
"Listen carefully, Aurora."
His voice dropped lower.
Dangerously soft.
"No one in this house will touch you."
Aurora stared at him silently.
Because she didn’t know how to respond to kindness.
Not even this strange version of it.
Then Alessandro said something that made her blood run cold.
"But don’t mistake protection for freedom."
Aurora’s breath caught.
His gray eyes locked onto hers completely now.
Possessive.
Unreadable.
Terrifying.
"From this moment onward," he said quietly, "you belong to me."
saying this ALESSANDRO came close to Aurora and Held her waist and ....
to be continued 🔚
- Writer
