Page 61 of Goldsin

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

JULIAN

The up and down movement of Aurelia’s chest lulls me all night. Not even sleep is as restful as losing myself to the sight of her.

I can’t bring myself to leave this chair, to stop watching her sleep so peacefully in my bed. The sight of her lost in the serenity of sleep chains me in place.

But as the morning sun creeps into the room, casting golden rays across her beautiful face, I know I have to get up.

Yet I stay still a second longer.

A second longer to feel the echo of guilt as the idea of Aurelia being involved in DeMarco’s death scratches at my insides.

Is it my fault? If I hadn’t pushed her away all those years ago, would she still have done it?

With a heavy sigh, I carefully get up. I take a quick shower, washing the paint off my face and the dried blood from my body. Once the water turns cold, I slip outand dry myself off. I take a new pair of sweatpants and walk silently out of the room.

Why did she do it?

Why can’t she trust me?

Because she’s no fool. Because you took her trust for granted, the voice in the back of my mind whispers.

Padding silently through the hallway, I reach the kitchen. I rub my eyes, which feel heavy as my eyelids drag closed. Like sandpaper, their dryness cuts with each blink.

It must be 5 a.m. Too early for the household to be awake, but right on time with my usual schedule.

That’s why, when I round the corner, I’m surprised to find Adrian already there, sipping his coffee and perusing the morning paper. He’s already dressed in his usual crisp white shirt and dark blue trousers—a sight for sore eyes this early in the morning.

Now that I think about it, when was the last time I saw him wearing anything but his usual annoyingly formal attire?

He glances up at me with a smirk, clearly taking note of my disheveled appearance—the opposite of his pristine one.

“Rough night?” He raises his brow.

“Something like that.”

I pour myself a cup of coffee, trying to ignore his hawk eyes.

“Speaking of last night, I’ve got some new information on DeMarco’s killer,” Adrian says, setting down his newspaper.

I try to keep my expression neutral as I lean againstthe counter sipping my coffee. I hope against hope he hasn’t figured out Aurelia’s involvement in his death.

“Really? What’d you find?”

“Well.” He rests his elbows on the table. “It seems we have a new player in the game. Someone who’s been keeping a low profile but has recently made quite the entrance.”

No.

“Go on,” I urge, my stomach twisting into knots as I brace myself for what he might say next.

“Turns out our mystery man has connections to the criminal underworld. Seems he’s been making moves to consolidate power and take out the competition. But here’s the interesting part,” Adrian continues, pausing for dramatic effect.Dickhead.“He doesn’t seem to have any connection to the Inferno Consortium.”

Wait . . .

Man.He said man.

Momentary relief washes over me, but it’s quickly replaced by an even greater sense of dread. What if this guy is involved with Aurelia? Maybe he helped her kill DeMarco. And most importantly, how long will it be before he leads Adrian to her?

---