Sofia made a choking sound beside her while Bianca shrieked with laughter and stumbled out of the car. The doors closed. Silence lasted approximately fourteen seconds.
Then Sofia leaned around the seat slowly. "So..."
"Nope," I said firmly.
"I didn't even say anything!” She looked offended. “I thought we were friends, Aurora.”
"Goodnight, Sofia,” I said with finality.
She sighed dramatically and climbed out when they reached her house. Then Alessia. At least she had the decency not to mention anything about the club. Silence settled inside the car after that. The cake was staring at me, making my guilt trip worse.
The Rolls-Royce smelled faintly like leather and expensive cologne and the sugary perfume Bianca had drowned herself in earlier. Soft music played somewhere through hidden speakers while rain tapped quietly against the roof overhead.
"Aurora,” Vincenzo said quietly after a while. "What happened?"
"I drank lemonade." I crossed my legs. “So nothing illegal.”
Silence stretched between us while he kept driving. Then, Vincenzo muttered, "You're in a mood."
"I am not,” I said.
"Mm,” he said, glancing at me in the mirror. “I can tell by your joyous smile.”
"I am perfectly fine. I had a lovely evening,” I said firmly. “Just peachy.”
"Mm.” Vincenzo didn’t look convinced. I glared. He stared back. Then sighed.
"I don't want to know, actually,” he muttered as the Rolls-Royce came to a stop beneath Leo’s penthouse. “Keep the dirty details for yourself.”
Good. Because I wasn't telling him. Not one word. Not about the devil mask. Not about stupid betting games. Not about warm hands. And definitely not about the fact some arrogant psychopath had somehow ruined my entire night by simply walking away.
Sleepbetrayedme.Thatwas the first thing I thought when I opened my eyes the next morning. Because somehow, impossibly, unbelievably... my subconscious had decided to become my enemy.
I stared at the ceiling above my bed while pale morning light spilled through enormous windows and stretched across soft cream sheets tangled around my legs. My room was quiet, but the city beyond the glass had already woken hours ago. I could hear distant traffic thirty floors below and faint movement somewhere inside the penthouse. Cabinets opening. Tiny footsteps running. Life continuing normally.
Meanwhile I had spent all night being psychologically assaulted by my own brain. Because every dream had been abouthim. Not romantic dreams. Not normal dreams. No. Apparently my subconscious specialized in emotional terrorism.
In one dream, I stood in a cathedral wearing white while Sergio waited beside me at the altar, his expression unreadable beneath stained glass and candlelight. But every time I looked at him... The devil masked stranger stood in the crowd. Watching. Not moving. Not speaking. Just staring.
Watching me leave. Watching me go. And I remember knowing somehow, because dream logic was horrifying, that if I got into the car... I'd never see him again.
I rolled over and shoved my face into my pillow. "For fuck’s sake."
Humiliation physically hurt. I had known that man for less than an hour. And somehow my brain had decided to act like I'd lost the love of my life. Absolutely pathetic. I wanted to punch myself.
"Aurora!" Sienna's voice exploded through the room. My bedroom door flew open.
"AUNTIE MUST EAT!" Bruno yelled from somewhere in the hallway.
"What?" I shouted. Tiny footsteps thundered closer. Then Bruno launched himself onto my bed wearing dinosaur pajamas and panic.
"Pancakes," he whispered urgently, clinging to my shoulders.
I blinked. "Pancakes are the reason you’re acting like a mini backpack?"
He nodded solemnly. "We're having chocolate chip pancakes. But there’s none for you.”
I shifted him into my lap. “And why not?”
