Page 7

I reach around to check his back pockets, finding where he tucked away his mask. Trying to smile, but probably only grimacing, I slip the mask on his face, securing the ribbons around the back of his head. That’s better.

He doesn’t say a word, only watches me like I’m his entertainment for the moment.

I close my eyes and press my palms flat against his chest.

Adrian.

Julian.

Once again, I’m back with them at Victoria’s party. Both of them are swaying with me. I can even smell the whiskey on Adrian’s breath; the sweaty musk from Julian. I rest my head on a shoulder, just listening to one of their heartbeats.

They both sigh my name, “Aurelia,” like a confession.

But I can’t ignore the bad times, can I?

Adrian was a study in contradictions—hot and cold, loving and distant.

One morning he’d laugh with me over breakfast, his usual icy exterior melting into something almost tender.

Then he’d disappear for days, returning with bruised knuckles and a haunted look in his eyes.

He’d lock himself in his room, shutting me out completely.

“Adrian,” I’d call through the door. “What happened?”

Silence. Always silence. He never let me get too close

When I cried—from frustration, from loneliness, from the growing certainty that he didn’t really love me and was off fucking other women—he’d hold me, but his body would stiffen. Like my tears were an inconvenience he had to endure rather than a pain he wanted to soothe.

“It’s alright,” he’d say, patting my back mechanically. “You’re alright.”

And Julian… he’s the definition of toxic. Yet so tender. Growing up, we were practically glued at the hip. He knows all of my deepest secrets; I’ve laid myself bare before him and he did the same. So different from his brother. So willing to let me in, to help me achieve my goals.

Or he was . I have no idea how things between us are going to change. If he’ll ever come back to me.

The music shifts, pulling me back to this stranger’s arms. My body moves against his. The champagne has transformed my blood into liquid courage, dissolving the barriers I’ve built around myself these past two weeks.

I reach up and run my fingers along the mask I put on his face, willing his eyes to turn blue.

He looks amused. “What’s this for?”

I don’t answer. I can’t tell him that I’m trying to rewrite reality, that I’m desperate to pretend he’s someone else.

I miss both Harrow brothers, but these sudden feelings for Adrian are the most startling.

I never thought I cared for him like this.

I spent years convincing myself that our relationship was a cage we were both trapped in.

But now grief carves channels through me that I never knew existed, revealing depths of emotion I wasn’t prepared to face .

I know Adrian never loved me—not really. How could he? And yet…

“Adrian,” I whisper, the name falling from my lips. Immediately, I feel guilty, like I’ve betrayed my love for his brother, so I quickly say, “Julian.” I open my mouth to say something else, but my words are now caught between them, leaving me speechless.

The stranger can’t hear me over the pounding music, and I’m grateful for that small mercy.

I study his face, trying to transform his features into a Harrow’s.

His jaw is too square, lacking any defined angles like Julian’s.

His smile is symmetrical, missing that slight crooked tilt that Adrian’s had when he was genuinely pleased.

But if I squint, if I let the alcohol blur the world, maybe I can find what I’m looking for.

“I’m so glad you didn’t leave,” I murmur. To which brother? I’m not sure.

The stranger reaches up to caress my cheek. His thumb traces my lower lip, and he leans in, closing the distance between us. I close my eyes, ready to surrender to this delusion, to feel heated lips on mine. I’ll even let this stranger fuck me, if he lets me call out the name of another man.

Just for a moment, just for tonight, I want to forget that the world is a hollow, aching void without?—

A strong hand grips my arm from behind, spinning me around with enough force to snap me back to reality. The spell breaks, leaving only the stranger behind me and Emeric’s stern face swimming in my line of sight.

“Come on,” Emeric says, his British accent thicker than usual as concern is etched across his features. He isn’t wearing a mask, his dark curls falling over his forehead as he steadies me. “Let’s get you home, love.”

I should protest—why’s he even here?. I should lose myself in the anonymous crowd, in the heat and oblivion of this party. But the grief rushes back, a tidal wave crushing me beneath its weight. My limbs feel disconnected from my body and the room is now tumbling so fast that I lose my balance.

Emeric keeps me from falling face first to the ground, pulling me securely against his side as we push through the sweaty bodies. His hand on my arm is the only anchor in a sea of masks. I let him guide me toward the exit, too numb to resist or care.

The cool night air hits my face and steals my breath, clearing the fog of champagne bubbles.

Tonight’s party was in an industrial part of town, in an old warehouse they renovated, so Seattle’s rain-slicked streets reflect the neon signs and streetlights, creating twin worlds—one above, one below.

I wonder which is real and which is the illusion.

Emeric’s car waits at the curb—sleek, black, expensive. Like everything in this world I’ve been drowning in for years. He opens the passenger door and helps me in, his movements careful. I collapse into the leather seat, letting my head fall back, letting the tears finally come.

They slide silently down my cheeks as Emeric starts the engine. I don’t bother wiping them away. What’s the point? The dam has broken, and I’m tired of pretending I’m not drowning.

I hug my waist, caving in on myself as my body shakes with sobs .

I wish I could talk to Adrian one last time, sort through these confusing feelings. Am I just overcome with shock and grief? Or does my heart really have love for him?

And I want to find the right words to say to Julian so he’ll believe me. Because I miss him. I need him. Part of him must still love me. I want our future together, the one he silently promised we’d have.

Emeric clears his throat after I cry for a solid ten minutes. “Eleanora asked me to check on you.” His eyes are fixed on the road ahead. “She’s really concerned if she’s messaging me about something that’s not a hookup.”

A laugh bubbles up, surprising me with its bitterness. “My life has become so pathetic.”

Emeric doesn’t smile and his eyes remain serious when he glances at me. “She cares about you.”

“I know you’re doing this for her, but won’t that asshole be mad you’re helping me?”

“Julian?” Emeric changes lanes and then speeds up to pass someone. “He’s been keeping to himself. And when Eleanora calls, I obey.” He laughs, but the sound is hollow in the confines of the car. “Some forces of nature you don’t resist.”

I’m not in the mood for his humor. My thoughts drift to Julian’s hands around my throat, his eyes cold as winter as he looked at me like I was nothing. Like I was worse than nothing.

Dread coils in my stomach, spreading poison through my veins. Those cold eyes of his promised something. Vengeance. Retribution. Pain .

I wonder when the axe will fall.

Julian has never been one to forgive or forget. He holds grudges like precious jewels, nurturing them until they gleam with malice. And now he believes I murdered his brother—the worst possible crime in his eyes.

He won’t let this go. He can’t.

I stare out the window as Seattle blurs past, each streetlight marking another second of borrowed time. Somewhere out there, Julian is planning and biding his time. The hunter is preparing to devour his prey.

What if I’m too broken to run?