You Are Mine

Chapter 2

*Aurora's POV*

I leaned on the left side of the car and looked out the window.

Tears trickled down my face and I didn’t bother wiping them.

The city blurred past. Streetlights. People. A normal life I wasn’t part of anymore.

I felt it before I saw it.

That prickling feeling. Like someone was watching me.

I turned my head.

Deep blue eyes.

He’d been staring at me for a while.

Xavier Damien Don Stuart.

I rolled my eyes and looked away. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“You know,” he said, voice low and clipped. “You really need to accord me some respect.”

I didn’t answer. I kept my eyes on the window.

He gave a dark chuckle. “Heh.”

Then his tone went flat. Cold.

“Let me make one thing clear to you.” He paused.

I could feel him watching me.

“You are under my custody from now on. You will follow my rules. You will eat when I say, sleep where I say, and you will not make decisions without me.”

Tears kept rolling down my face.

What did I do to deserve this? I thought.

I turned to him, my voice shaking.

“My father owes you. Not me. But I can work. I can repay you. I can clean, wash, cook. I can do anything. Just don’t...”

“Enough!”

I flinched at the sudden bark in his voice.

Before I could react, his hand caught my wrist and pulled me closer. My back hit against the seat, pinned between him and the door.

“You do not get to negotiate with me,” he said, his face inches from mine.

His grip was firm. Too firm.

He reached up and gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. It hurt.

“You are mine now, Aurora. And you are not running.”

He let go and pushed me back. My head bumped against the car door and my vision blurred for a second. I pressed a hand to my temple, pain shooting through me.

“Welcome to your new life,” he said. A cruel smirk touched his lips.

My heart sank.

I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve this.

The car slowed.

“Sir, we have reached the airport,” the driver announced.

I blinked. Airport?

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, voice breaking.

He ignored me.

I grabbed at his sleeve. “Answer me! Where are you taking...”

He cut me off. His hand came up and covered my mouth, silencing me. When he pulled back, I was gasping.

My cheeks burned with humiliation and anger. I was eighteen. And this man was treating me like I was nothing.

I slumped in the seat, holding my face, shame and fury mixing in my chest.

“Listen carefully,” he said, leaning in close enough that I could feel his breath. “The news is right. I don’t base here in Miami. We’re going to Florida. And you’re coming with me.”

He paused.

“And one more thing. You will not speak to me with disrespect again. You will address me properly.”

My mind went blank.

“What did you just say?”

The car came to a halt.

His door opened. He stepped out without looking back.

I stayed frozen.

Two of his men opened my door.

“Come down,” one of them said. “Unless you want Mr. Stuart to come back for you.”

How shameless.

I slid out of the car on shaking legs. The airport lights were blinding. Private jets lined the tarmac. Men in suits were everywhere.

And in the middle of it all stood Xavier Damien Don Stuart, talking on his phone like he hadn’t just turned my life upside down.

He was tall. Broad shoulders in a black suit. Dark hair. The kind of man people moved out of the way for without being told.

He glanced at me once and ended his call.

“Let’s go.”

I didn’t move.

He sighed and walked back to me.

“If you don’t walk, I’ll carry you. Your choice.”

I hated him.

But I hated the idea of making a scene in front of all these people more.

So I walked.

Head high. Tears gone.

Even if my hands were shaking.

As we crossed the tarmac, his men flanked us. No one spoke to me. No one looked at me.

It was like I was already invisible. Like I was already property.

We stopped in front of a sleek black jet. The stairs were down.

Xavier turned to me at the bottom.

“After you.”

I didn’t answer. I just climbed.

Inside, it was all leather and gold. Cold. Expensive. Nothing like home.

He sat across from me and picked up a tablet, already working like I wasn’t there.

The jet started moving.

My stomach dropped as we lifted off.

Miami got smaller below me.

My house. My dad. My old life.

Gone.

I wrapped my arms around myself and stared out the window.

Xavier didn’t look up.

“You don’t have to pretend I’m not here,” I whispered.

He finally glanced at me. Those deep blue eyes again.

“I’m not pretending. I know exactly where you are.”

“Then why...”

“Because you talk too much when you’re scared,” he cut in. “And you’re scared.”

I looked away. He was right.

The flight was silent after that.

Just the hum of the engines and the weight of what was happening.

When we landed, it was already night in Florida.

More cars. More men. Another estate, bigger than the last.

Xavier stepped out first.

“Welcome to my home, Aurora,” he said without looking back.

“This is where you’ll be staying. For now.”

For now.

What did that mean?

I followed him inside. Marble floors. High ceilings. Cold air.

Servants lined the hall and bowed their heads as we passed.

He stopped at the top of the stairs and pointed to a door.

“That’s your room. You’ll be told the rules in the morning.”

Then he walked away.

I stood there, alone in the hallway of a stranger’s mansion.

My chest felt tight.

Welcome to hell, he’d said in the car.

Maybe he was right.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

And for the first time since this started, I let myself cry.