End of Chapter1
1524 Words
Aurora placed her hand on the doorknob, every nerve in her body pulled tight like a wire. The knock hadn’t echoed like a neighbor’s lazy tap or a delivery drop-off. It had been deliberate. Heavy. A message wrapped inside a sound.
Behind her, Sienna whispered harshly, “Aurora, please—don’t.”
But Aurora wasn’t the type to back down—not from a stranger, not from danger, and definitely not from a door. She twisted the lock slowly and pulled it open just a few inches.
Rain dripped off the eaves, collecting in a puddle at the stranger’s feet.
A man stood on the porch—tall, dark coat, hands in his pockets. His hood was pulled low, shadowing most of his face. But she recognized the posture.
This was the same man who had been watching her outside the café.
He didn’t step forward.
He didn’t speak.
He simply lifted his head enough for her to see the faint outline of a smirk curving his lips.
“Aurora Hale,” he said, voice deep and smooth, as if he already knew she wouldn’t shut the door on him. “Good. You’re braver than your sister.”
Sienna’s breath hitched audibly behind her.
Aurora kept her hand on the doorknob, grip firm. “Who are you?”
The stranger tilted his head slightly. “Someone delivering a message.”
Aurora narrowed her eyes. “From who?”
A beat of silence.
Then—
“From Viktor.”
Sienna sucked in a breath so sharp it sounded painful.
Aurora didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.
But something like cold fire slid down her spine, quick and bright.
“How does Viktor know where I live?” she asked evenly.
The man smiled faintly, rain dripping from his hood. “Viktor knows everything worth knowing.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’ll get tonight.” The stranger’s tone held a strange sort of respect, as though he admired her refusal to be intimidated. “He wants you to know something before you step into that prison tomorrow.”
Aurora’s heartbeat slowed—not from calm, but from focus.
“And what is that?”
This time, the man leaned forward just slightly, enough for her to see a pair of piercing gray eyes beneath the shadow of his hood.
“He wants you to understand,” the man said quietly, “that you aren’t walking into an interview.”
Aurora didn’t blink. “Then what am I walking into?”
The man held her gaze for a long, heavy moment, rain pattering rhythmically around them.
“A war,” he said.
Aurora’s fingers tightened on the doorframe.
“And what exactly do I have to do with Viktor Riddles’ war?” she asked.
For the first time, the stranger’s expression shifted. Not softer—worse. He looked almost amused by her question.
“You’ll find that out tomorrow.”
Sienna made a choked noise. “Please go,” she whispered from behind Aurora. “Please, just leave us alone.”
The man flicked his gaze past Aurora toward Sienna, and for a moment, something sharp flashed through his eyes—recognition.
“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” he murmured.
Sienna squeezed her eyes shut.
Aurora stepped forward instinctively, blocking the doorway, voice low and dangerous. “I asked you to leave.”
The man smiled—a calm, unsettling expression that didn’t reach his eyes.
“You’re fearless. Viktor will like that.” He stepped backward into the rain, hands still in his pockets. “Be at the prison at ten. Don’t be late. And Aurora?”
She didn’t respond. Didn’t need to.
He said it anyway.
“Ask him about the rose.”
Aurora’s breath froze in her chest.
The rose.
Her mind jumped instantly to the dried, pressed rose tucked inside her sister’s old jewelry box. The one Sienna never talked about. The one Aurora had asked about a hundred times and never gotten an answer.
She stared at the man, but he had already turned away, dissolving into the darkness like he had never been there at all.
Aurora shut the door slowly, the click of the lock echoing too loudly in the silent house.
Behind her, Sienna whispered, “Aurora… please don’t go tomorrow.”
Aurora turned to her sister, studying every trembling inch of her—her hunched shoulders, her red eyes, her fingers digging into the ceramic mug.
“You know something,” Aurora said softly. “Something about Viktor.”
Sienna shook her head frantically. “Aurora, I can’t—”
“Then at least tell me what the rose means.”
Sienna froze.
Her lips parted.
Her face crumpled.
But she didn’t answer.
Aurora stepped closer, crouching so she was eye-level with her sister.
“Sienna,” she murmured, “I need you to trust me.”
Sienna’s voice broke. “I’m trying to protect you.”
“And I’m trying to protect both of us,” Aurora said firmly. “Please. Start at the beginning.”
But Sienna only squeezed her eyes shut as tears spilled over, hitting the mug in her hands with soft taps.
“Aurora… I can’t. If I say anything—if I even hint—he’ll know.”
Aurora felt something shift sharply in her chest.
“He’ll know? Sienna… are you saying Viktor watches you?”
Sienna didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to.
Aurora stood, pacing a slow, controlled line across the kitchen.
Pieces of the puzzle began arranging themselves—slowly, painfully, but undeniably:
Carter choosing her specifically.
Carter using a private email.
A man watching her in the rain.
An unknown warning her not to trust anyone.
Sienna’s terror at Viktor’s name.
Sienna’s connection to a rose.
Viktor sending someone to her door.
The words war and not an interview.
None of it was coincidence.
None of it was random.
Someone wanted Aurora in that prison tomorrow.
Someone else wanted her to stay far away.
And Viktor Riddles—locked behind glass and steel—was somehow pulling strings.
Aurora turned toward her sister again.
“Did Viktor hurt you?” she asked quietly.
Sienna shook her head—but too quickly. Too automatically.
Aurora stepped closer. “Did Viktor know you?”
Sienna finally whispered, “Everyone knew him.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Sienna wouldn’t look at her.
Aurora knelt again, softer this time. “Sienna… is Viktor the reason you changed your name?”
Her sister’s breath stilled.
Aurora exhaled slowly. “You used to go by Sienna Hale, just like me. Then suddenly you became Sienna Rowe. You never explained why.”
Sienna finally lifted her gaze, eyes full of a pain Aurora had never understood until now.
“I didn’t change my name to get away from Viktor,” she whispered. “I changed it to survive Viktor.”
Aurora went still.
Sienna covered her face with both hands, shoulders shaking.
“I told you I can’t explain. Not yet. Not safely.”
Aurora swallowed hard. “Then I’m going to get answers tomorrow.”
Sienna dropped her hands, eyes wide with panic. “Aurora, please—”
Aurora rose to her feet, steel in her posture. “I’m not going into tomorrow blind. If Viktor wants me there, if someone else wants me blocked, if you’re terrified to even say his name… then there’s something bigger at play.”
Sienna’s voice cracked. “He’ll get inside your head.”
Aurora shook her head slowly. “No. I’ll get inside his.”
Silence filled the room like fog.
Finally, Sienna whispered, “You’re making a mistake.”
Aurora stepped forward and placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Maybe. Or maybe this is the only way to end whatever you’ve been running from.”
Sienna looked at her for a long moment—agonized, defeated—before she whispered, “Just promise me something.”
Aurora nodded once. “Anything.”
Sienna’s voice was barely audible.
“When you see him… don’t let him smile at you.”
Aurora frowned. “Why?”
“Because Viktor doesn’t smile at people he wants to kill.”
Aurora held her sister’s gaze, every part of her tightening.
“And what does it mean,” she asked quietly, “if he does smile?”
Sienna’s answer was a whisper soaked in dread.
“It means you’re already his.”
Thunder cracked outside, rattling the windows. Aurora didn’t react. She just turned toward the hallway, toward the room where her notebook waited. Where her questions waited. Where tomorrow waited.
She paused at the doorway and looked back at Sienna, whose face was buried in her hands.
Aurora inhaled deeply.
Whatever tomorrow held—danger, truth, Viktor, roses, war—it would be the first step into a story that had begun long before she ever realized she was part of it.
And she wasn’t walking away.
Not now.
Not ever.
Tomorrow she would face Viktor Riddles.
And she would find out exactly why he wanted her.
- Writer
