Page 11 of Felix (4 Seats #2)

Chapter Eleven

Felix Greyson

A s I dial up Angel, my fingers tap impatiently on the table. “Angel,” I say, my voice firm. “I need all of Aurora’s shit packed and shipped to my place in Dee Why.”

“Can do,” he replies without missing a beat.

“Charge a visit to Candy on my card for all your hard work.” I smile and hang up, satisfied he will take care of everything. Aurora needs to be surrounded by her own things, even if she doesn’t realise it yet. I can’t have her feeling out of place in my mansion, after all.

Dinner arrives, and it’s nothing fancy, just some burgers and fries.

Aurora picks at hers, clearly not hungry or maybe too lost in her thoughts.

I watch her from across the room, the way she chews her lip and stares at nothing.

She’s a fucking mystery, that one, but I’m determined to unravel her, piece by piece.

“Come on, we should get some rest,” I say, standing and tossing my empty burger wrapper into the bin. Aurora nods, still silent, and follows me to bed.

She slips under the covers, her black hair fanned out on the pillow, and I can’t help but admire her for a moment. The tattoos on her body tell a story I’m eager to read. It’s not long before her breathing steadies, and I know she’s asleep.

I slide into bed behind her, my body instinctively moulding to hers. My arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close. Even in sleep, she’s tense, like she’s expecting someone to hurt her. But I won’t let that happen while she’s with me.

“Sleep tight, Aurora,” I whisper, my lips brushing against her ear. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and I want her to know she’s safe in my arms, even if she can’t hear me right now.

I can’t fucking believe how much this girl has gotten under my skin. She changed everything in a three-minute meeting, and now I’m lying here thinking about romantic gestures for her. What the hell happened to me? I was never into that lovey-dovey shit before.

As sleep takes over, I find myself dreaming of Aurora—a softer version of her with the same fire in her eyes but without the fear. Maybe one day she’ll trust me enough to let down her guard. At least, I fucking hope so.

The sun spills into the room, waking us up early. “We’ve gotta get going, darling,” I say, gently nudging Aurora awake. She rubs her eyes, looking disoriented, then nods silently .

“Alright,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. We quickly gather our things, and I can tell she’s still tense from last night.

I booked us on the first flight out of the Gold Coast back to Sydney, leaving at seven o’clock.

“Ready?” I ask, and she nods again. We head to the lobby, and I drop off the rental car keys at the front desk. The airport is not far, so we have a taxi taking us there.

“Want some coffee?” I offer as we approach the terminal. “You look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Sure,” she says, her voice so quiet I almost don’t hear her. I duck into a nearby café and grab two coffees.

“Here you go, darling,” I say, handing her the cup. “Drink up. We’ve got a long day ahead.” She takes a small sip, her dark eyes meeting mine for a second before she looks away. I can tell she’s still on edge.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, clutching the coffee cup like a lifeline.

I’m doing my best to be sweet and kind to her, but she barely talks back. She just agrees to everything I say, like a fucking robot.

“First class, darling,” I tell her as we board the flight. I grab her hand and ask if she needs anything else.

“No,” she says and curls up in her seat, falling asleep for the whole damn flight to Sydney.

I sit there, watching her sleep, and wonder what it’s going take for her to trust me. For now, I’ll settle for just getting her back to Sydney in one piece .

The moment we touch down in Sydney, I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. We’re fucking home. I lead Aurora through the airport, my hand possessively on the small of her back. She hasn’t said much since we left the Gold Coast, and I’m starting to worry.

“That’s our ride there,” I say as we step outside, my eyes locking on the black Bentley waiting at the curb. It’s posh as hell, but she doesn’t bat an eyelid as she slides into the leather seat, remaining quiet as ever. That’s fine. She’ll warm up to me eventually.

As we pull away from the airport, I glance over at her, trying to gauge what’s going on in that pretty head of hers. “You’ll get used to Sydney again, don’t worry,” I tell her. “And you’ll be safe here with me.”

She nods, her dark eyes locked on the window as the city passes by. I grip the steering wheel tighter, wishing she’d fucking talk to me. Anything would be better than this silence.

We arrive at my mansion in Dee Why, and I swear I catch a flicker of something in her eyes as she takes in the sight of the place, but it’s gone before I can be sure.

I take her inside, showing her around like some goddamn tour guide.

It isn’t romantic or anything, but I’m trying. I really fucking am.

“Here’s our room,” I say as I push open the heavy wooden door, revealing a massive bed and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. “You’ll sleep with me every night from now on, darling.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay?” I repeat, my brows knitting together. That’s it? Just fucking okay? What the hell do I have to do to get through to her?

But I don’t push it. I let her settle in, unpack her things, and make herself comfortable. If this is what she needs right now—some space and time—then I’ll give it to her.

“Alright,” I say, clapping my hands together. “I have some business to take care of, but I’ll be back soon. You need anything, you just holler. I’ll be down in the basement.”

“Okay,” she mumbles, and without another word, she climbs into the bed and goes to sleep. I glance at my watch—it’s only fucking ten in the morning, but I’m not going to mention it. She has some issues that I don’t know about. I need to read the email Angel sent me on her full medical history.

As Aurora drifts off, I can’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over me. I don’t want anything hurting her, not even her own thoughts.

Heading down to the basement, my mind wanders to Mr Maxwell, the son of a bitch stinking up my cool room.

I should have cleaned him up the other day before I raced to the Gold Coast, but there wasn’t time.

Now, his lifeless body lies on the cold floor in the makeshift refrigerator room, waiting for disposal.

“Let’s get this shit done,” I mutter to myself, rolling up my sleeves and grabbing the necessary tools. I can’t have any loose ends.

As I work on dismembering the body, blood splatters on my arms and clothes, mixing with the sweat on my brow. It’s a gruesome task, but one I’ve done many times before. This is nothing new to me .

Once the body is all chopped and bagged up, I head back upstairs, hoping Aurora is still sleeping so I can grab a quick shower without her seeing me covered in blood for the second day in a row.