Page 11 of Goldrage
“What did you do?” The question tears from my throat as I strain against the shackles. Metal bites into my wrists as I pull forward, desperate to reach her, to shake the truth from her lying mouth. “What did youdo?”
Lady Harrow’s expression doesn’t change, maintaining that serene mask of maternal concern. “What Julian asked me to do, of course.” She turns to look at my brother with pride glowing in her eyes. “She won’t be bothering our family anymore.”
It feels like the bed is tipping. Everything—the garden, the afternoon light, the scent of roses—becomes meaningless background noise. There’s only the roaring in my ears and the desperate need to know this is a lie.
After everything, Aurelia can’t be?—
“It’s done,” she adds, reaching up to touch Julian’s cheek tenderly. “Just as you wanted.”
My composure doesn’t crack—it detonates. Years ofcontrol, of measured responses and strategic thinking, obliterated in an instant. I lunge forward with everything I have, ignoring the fire that tears through my wound, ignoring the chains that bite deeper into my flesh with each desperate movement. I thrash against the bed, trying to will it to move closer to this demon who birthed me.
“You’re lying!” The words rip from the most primal part of me. “Tell me she’s lying, Julian!”
I reach for her throat even though she’s several feet away. I simply need to feel her pulse flutter beneath my fingers, need to squeeze until she takes back those words. But the chains don’t break, leaving me straining while she watches with detached interest.
Julian stands frozen, his face now marble. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t confirm it. His silence is more devastating than any confession could be.
“Julian, please.” My voice breaks on his name. “Tell me you didn’t?—”
Lady Harrow laughs, the sound light and musical, as though we’re discussing the weather rather than murder. “We’re finally a family again,” she says, her hand still resting on Julian’s cheek. “Just the three of us, as it should be.”
To my horror, Julian doesn’t pull away from her touch. He stands there like a statue, accepting her caress while I fall apart in front of them both.
“Well,” she says through a sigh. “I have some calls to make about tomorrow’s cleanup. You two should continue catching up.” She presses a kiss to Julian’sforehead—a blessing that makes my stomach churn—and glides back toward the house.
The silence she leaves behind is so suffocating it threatens to kill me. I collapse against the bed, the fight draining out of me as the chains finally stop cutting into my wrists. Blood seeps through the bandages on my abdomen where my frantic movements have reopened the wound, but I couldn’t care less about the pain.
Aurelia. My beautiful, fierce Aurelia.
Gone?
She can’t be dead. I would feel it, wouldn’t I? Some part of my soul would know if hers had been extinguished. But doubt creeps in like poison, tainting any rational thought. The silence from Julian, the satisfaction in Lady Harrow’s eyes, the plain way she described blood?—
No. I refuse to believe it. Not until I see proof. Not until I’m certain.
“Why?” The question comes out as simmering rage. “Why let her do this to you? This isn’t who you are.”
Julian finally moves, turning those hollow eyes toward me. “You don’t know who I am anymore.” His voice carries no emotion, no inflection—just empty observation. “Maybe you never did.”
Without another word, he moves to the foot of my bed and begins wheeling me back toward the house. The rose garden blurs past as we leave the terrace, the beauty of it now tainted.
As we move through the familiar hallways again, I make a silent vow that cuts through the haze of grief and despair. Even if Aurelia is truly gone—and I refuse toaccept that possibility—I won’t lose Julian too. Lady Harrow has twisted him into something unrecognizable, but the brother I love is still there, somewhere.
I’ve failed him too many times already. I won’t fail again.
Whatever it takes, however long it takes, I will save Julian from Lady Harrow’s manipulation. I will save him from himself.
CHAPTER FIVE
AURELIA
The blank page mocks me, so I swallow more pain pills. Hopefully, I’ll become loopy enough that the words will start flowing.
I’m sitting on my bed at Lorenzo’s estate. The house is still in shambles but there’s a crew working to restore it. My room wasn’t damaged, so it still has the same warm Mediterranean colors and soothing atmosphere. The plush carpet cushions my feet when I walk, and the beige curtains filter all light into a soft glow that makes the pain in my side slightly more bearable. Through the large glass window, I can see the expanse of Lorenzo’s green estate grounds where workers are clearing debris from Julian’s assault.
So much wreckage.
My pen hovers above fresh paper, and my hand trembles from more than just the pain medication I’ve been eating like candy. A few weeks ago, I would’ve filled these pages with fury and purpose. Now the wordsrefuse to come, stuck somewhere between my shattered heart and this aching body that barely feels like mine.
