Page 91 of Goldrage
I pray this works, because it’s taken years to prepare for and there’s no plan B.
After Valentine leaves to make some discreet preparations, I find myself alone with Aurelia in the medical room. She moves toward me with purpose, and I open my arms to receive her, both of us needing the comfort of physical contact after the intensity of our planning session.
“Two more days,” Aurelia whispers against my chest, her voice muffled by the fabric of my shirt. “Then this nightmare is finally over.”
“God willing,” I respond, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “But I need you somewhere safe. I need you to leave the party before I give the signal to my contacts. Let us handle it. I won’t risk the baby.”
Aurelia pulls back to look at me, her eyes rimmed with tears. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you before, but I couldn’t...”
The change in her demeanor immediately puts me on alert. My heart hammers in my chest. “What is it?”
“I’m… I’m not pregnant,” she says quietly. “I was never pregnant. It was all a lie to get me into the estate, to get close to you. I’m… I’m… I’m sorry for lying.” Tears fall and she covers her sobs with a hand.
I stare at her for a long moment as I process this revelation that should shock me more than it does. Instead, I find myself feeling something that might be relief.
“You’ve been carrying this lie all this time?” I ask gently. “Aurelia, my love, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Because if you knew, and Lady Harrow tortured you for information, you could’ve accidentally revealed the truth. I was protecting you the only way I knew how. I know you must be so angry at me.”
I cup her face in my hands, using my thumbs to wipe away her tears. “I’m not angry. Honestly, given everything that’s happened, it’s probably for the best.”
Her eyes flash wide. “You’re not disappointed?”
“I’m… complicated about it. Part of me had started to imagine what it might be like, having a child with you. But bringing a baby into this world right now would’ve been irresponsible at best, dangerous at worst. Someday, we’ll have a child, I guarantee that. But right now… yes, it’s better that you’re not pregnant.”
We hold each other under the medical room’s harsh fluorescent light, both understanding that we’ve crossed another threshold in our relationship—no more lies, no more secrets, just the truth in all its messy complexity.
But in that truth, a new dread takes hold.
“There’s one thing that worries me,” I say as we prepare to leave. “When Julian finds out about the pregnancy being fake… it’s going to destroy him. Whatever small hope he might have been clinging to about having a family, this will crush that completely.”
Aurelia’s face pales as she considers the implications.
“I’m terrified about his mental health right now. Part of me wonders if we should kidnap him today. I could have guards drug him and take him away secretly for his own safety. Eventually, he’ll forgive me.”
“But what about Lady Harrow? She’d be too suspicious if she doesn’t see him before or at the party.”
“Yes, that’s my main reason for hesitating.” My protective instincts for my brother are warring with the practical needs of our mission. I sigh. “Perhaps we can’t do that. We’ll have to wait until the party. Until then, hecan’t know about the pregnancy. Not until this is all over. We’ll tell him a few days after everything has calmed down, when he’s hopefully in an open place to listen. He’s barely holding on as it is. This revelation might push him over the edge completely.”
Aurelia nods and falls back into my arms for just a few more minutes of closeness.
As my heart relaxes and I breathe in her floral scent, a calm settles over me. I stare at the medical room’s door as if I can see the party playing out in front of me. In three days, everything will change. Whether we emerge from the chaos as survivors or casualties remains to be seen, but one thing is certain—the Harrow family as it exists today will not survive. The only question is who will be left standing when the dust settles.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
JULIAN
I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, elbows on my knees, staring out the window. I’ve barely moved in hours. Days, maybe. Time has become meaningless since everything shattered at dinner. I think it was two or three nights ago. The mattress sags beneath me, molded to this exact position. My feet have worn grooves in the carpet where they rest, twin depressions that match the ones eating through my chest.
From up here, the garden spreads below like some stage. Everyone performs their little dramas down there, oblivious to who’s watching. Weeks ago I commanded this entire estate, made decisions that affected hundreds of lives, wielded the kind of power men kill for. Now I’m just a ghost haunting my own bedroom, watching life happen below me.
The sparrows are back. Small brown things darting between Mother’s rose bushes. They know exactly what they’re meant to do—find food, build nests, surviveanother day. No one lies to them. No one uses them for games meant to destroy everything they thought they knew. Their existence has an honesty mine never had.
Bianca appears from the estate’s side entrance, that pink dress of hers bright against the green. She spots Adrian taking his daily walk and immediately changes her path to intercept. The determination in her stride reminds me of a heat-seeking missile locked onto its target.
I watch her latch onto his arm, mouth already moving in what I know is another desperate attempt to get his attention. But something’s different today. Adrian stops walking. Turns to face her fully. Even from here I can see the shift in his posture, the way his shoulders square and his spine straightens.
He looks pissed as he talks. Whatever he’s saying, Bianca is reacting like he’s hitting her, flinching from every work. Bianca’s face crumples, her hands flying to her mouth before she turns and flees back into the house.
