Dancing with the devil

Chapter 4: The wrong elevator

Aurora woke to the smell of something burning.

For a few seconds, she stayed where she was, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling above her.

Then she remembered.

Matteo's house.

She had fallen asleep there after spending the previous evening with Matteo and Sophia. It had gotten late, and none of them had bothered going home. Eventually, they had simply settled into different rooms for the night.

Aurora pushed herself out of bed and made her way toward the kitchen.

She was still half asleep when she heard laughter.

Then she walked through the doorway.

Matteo was kissing a woman.

Aurora stopped.

The woman had her arms around his neck while Matteo's hands rested on her waist.

Aurora stared for a second before looking past them.

Something on the stove was smoking.

She sighed.

“Get a room.”

Matteo broke away and looked over his shoulder.

“Good morning to you too.”

Aurora pointed toward the stove.

“Your breakfast is on fire.”

His expression changed immediately.

“Shit.”

He rushed toward the stove while the woman laughed.

Aurora walked to the counter and poured herself a glass of water.

“You're very welcoming,” the woman said.

“I try.”

Matteo hurriedly dealt with the pan before turning back.

“You could've said that a little nicer.”

“I could have. But then your breakfast would've burned completely.”

He glanced at the pan.

“It's still edible.”

Aurora looked at the blackened food.

“That's optimistic.”

A few minutes later, Sophia appeared in the kitchen. She took one look at Matteo, the woman, and the ruined breakfast.

“Oh.”

Aurora handed her the glass of water.

“Good morning.”

“What happened?”

“Matteo happened.”

“I heard that.”

Matteo gave them both a look.

“You two are very funny this morning.”

“You brought a stranger home,” Aurora said.

“You've done that before,” Sophia added.

Matteo pointed at her.

“Exactly. Thank you.”

“That wasn't a defense.”

He rolled his eyes.

Eventually, the woman gathered her things and left, leaving Matteo to complain that nobody appreciated the fact that he'd tried to make breakfast.

Aurora ignored him and returned to her room to put on her wig, contacts, and glasses.

By the time they were ready to leave, Aurora had taken control of the car keys.

Matteo slid into the back seat beside Sophia while Aurora started the engine.

“Where are we going?” Sophia asked.

“The gallery,” Matteo said.

Aurora glanced at him through the mirror.

“Again?”

“Yes.”

“You already have enough paintings to furnish a museum.”

Matteo smiled.

“Exactly. I'm expanding.”

Sophia laughed as Aurora shook her head and pulled out of the driveway.

The gallery was busier than Matteo had expected, but that didn't stop him from taking his time.

He wandered from one painting to another, studying each one with far more seriousness than Aurora thought necessary.

“You're not buying that one,” she said when he stopped in front of an enormous abstract painting.

“Why not?”

“It looks like someone spilled paint on it and decided to charge money for the accident.”

Sophia laughed.

Matteo looked offended.

“You have no appreciation for art.”

“I have appreciation for art. I just don't appreciate that.”

He moved on.

They spent nearly an hour going through the gallery, arguing over paintings and making fun of Matteo's increasingly ridiculous taste.

Aurora eventually stopped in front of a smaller piece.

It wasn't particularly flashy. The colors were simple, but something quiet about it caught her attention.

Matteo noticed.

“You like that one?”

Aurora glanced at him.

“It's nice.”

“That's all?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Something emotional.”

She smiled.

“It's a painting, Matteo.”

He shrugged and moved on, though he glanced back at the painting once she had left.

After the gallery, they went shopping.

Matteo insisted on stopping at several stores because, according to him, buying one thing meant there was no reason not to look at ten more.

By the time they finally stopped for food, Aurora was hungry enough to stop arguing with him.

They found a table and ordered.

Aurora was halfway through her sandwich when her phone buzzed.

She glanced at the screen.

Her expression changed.

Sophia noticed.

“What is it?”

Aurora read the message again.

Moretti Holdings.

They needed her back immediately.

There was a problem with one of the files for the upcoming press briefing, and because she had worked on the documents, PR needed her there as soon as possible.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

She pushed her chair back.

Matteo looked up.

“What happened?”

“I have to go back to work.”

She grabbed her bag and stood, leaving her sandwich behind.

She took two steps before stopping.

Then she turned around, grabbed the sandwich, and hurried toward the exit.

Three steps later, she stopped again.

“My keys.”

Matteo stared at her.

Aurora grabbed them from the table.

“How are we supposed to get back?” he asked.

She was already moving toward the door.

“Call an Uber!”

“Aurora—”

But she was gone.

Sophia looked at Matteo.

“She left with her car.”

“I noticed.”

“Anyways, let's finish this food,” Sophia said, digging into her burger.

“Foodie,” Matteo chuckled.

Aurora was already outside, irritated with herself, the company, and the fact that she'd barely had time to finish lunch.

She drove back to Moretti Holdings, her thoughts already on the problem waiting upstairs.

What had happened to the file?

Who had changed it?

Had she missed something?

She tightened her grip on her bag and hurried through the lobby.

Someone called her name from behind, but she only raised a hand in acknowledgment.

“I'll be back down.”

She kept moving.

She reached the elevators just as one opened.

Aurora stepped inside, still searching through her bag for the notes she'd worked from earlier.

Notebook.

Pens.

Phone charger.

Receipts.

Nothing.

“Where did I put that?”

The doors closed.

A man's voice came from behind her.

“Find it?”

Aurora jolted.

Her fingers froze.

Slowly, she straightened and turned around.

And stopped breathing.

Dante Moretti.

For a moment, she could only stare at him.

She knew his face. She had seen it in photographs, heard his name spoken in rooms where his enemies lowered their voices, and studied everything she could find about him before stepping into Moretti Holdings.

But nothing had prepared her for standing this close to him.

This was the man she had been looking for.

The man she believed had ordered Lucian's death.

The man she had come here to destroy.

And he was standing less than six feet away.

Alive.

Calm.

Completely unaware of who was standing in front of him.

A sharp wave of anger moved through her.

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.

This is him.

For years, she had imagined what it would feel like to finally stand face-to-face with Dante Moretti. She had imagined fear, hatred, revenge.

She could kill him.

The thought came so naturally that it almost scared her.

Not here.

Not now.

Not as Aurora.

She forced herself to breathe and straightened.

“Mr. Moretti.”

His gaze settled on her.

“Bennett.”

“Yes, sir.”

He glanced at the bag in her hands.

“Why are you here?”

Aurora's heart skipped.

Does he know?

She searched his face, but there was no recognition or accusation. Just a question.

“I was called back by PR,” she said. “There was an issue with some of the documents for the press briefing.”

Dante continued looking at her.

Then he asked again.

“Why are you here?”

Aurora frowned.

She had already answered.

“Then what are you asking?”

Silence.

Dante's eyes moved toward the elevator doors.

Aurora followed his gaze.

And suddenly she understood.

The elevator.

Of course.

“I didn't realize this was—”

The elevator jolted.

Aurora grabbed the railing.

The lights flickered once.

Then everything went dark.

She heard Dante move.

A second later, the emergency lights came on, bathing the elevator in a dim glow.

Aurora looked toward the doors.

They hadn't moved.

Dante pressed the emergency button.

Nothing happened.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

A faint crackle came through the speaker.

“Sir, we're aware of the outage. We're working on the system now.”

“How long?” Dante asked.

“We don't know yet.”

Aurora swallowed.

She looked at the closed doors again.

The walls suddenly felt closer.

She forced herself to breathe.

It was only an elevator.

She was fine.

The elevator gave another small jerk.

Aurora's breath caught.

For a moment, she smelled smoke.

Saw flames.

Heard a child's scream.

Her own.

“Are you all right?”

Dante's voice reached her, but it sounded distant.

The emergency lights flickered again, and suddenly the elevator disappeared.

She was somewhere else.

Somewhere dark.

Somewhere burning.

Heat pressed against her skin as flames climbed the walls around her. She could hear someone shouting her name, but she couldn't make out the face.

“Vivianna!”

Dante's voice pulled at her again.

She opened her eyes.

He was standing in front of her.

But for one terrifying second, all she could see was him surrounded by flames.

Aurora squeezed her eyes shut.

The image refused to disappear.

She tried to breathe, but her lungs wouldn't cooperate.

“Look at me.”

She forced her eyes open.

Dante stepped closer.

“Breathe.”

She tried.

But the fire was still there.

Then everything went black.