POV: Aurora
---
Aurora stared at the drawer like it might bite her.
It wasn't locked. It wasn't even hidden.
Just sitting there — wide open.
Inside, next to her folded underwear and a bottle of body lotion, was a small white box.
She picked it up slowly.
A pregnancy test.
Unopened. Untouched.
And definitely not something she had bought.
Her fingers trembled.
Damien had been in this room while she was at school. She knew it.
She looked around — everything else was the same.
Except that box.
Placed like a time bomb.
Or a message.
She dropped it like it burned her and shoved the drawer shut.
---
At school, Tiffany was waiting. As usual.
Fake smile. Perfect hair. Eyes too wide, too interested.
"Heyyy, Rory."
Aurora didn't answer.
"You didn't text me back last night," Tiffany said, tilting her head. "I was worried."
"I don't have my phone," Aurora muttered.
Tiffany blinked. "Wait… what?"
Aurora immediately wished she hadn't said that.
She turned, walking faster.
Tiffany followed. "He took your phone?"
Aurora didn't answer.
"Rory—"
"Don't call me that."
There was silence.
Then the fake concern dropped slightly. "Okay, geez. Just trying to help."
Aurora turned on her heel. "Help? Really?"
Tiffany blinked again, too innocent.
"Then stop following me."
---
But she didn't stop.
Not during break, not after school.
And when Damien's car pulled up — same black-on-black luxury as always — Tiffany stood just close enough to watch them without looking obvious.
Aurora got in. She didn't speak.
Damien didn't either.
But the second the doors closed, the air changed.
"You found the drawer," he said softly.
She didn't respond.
"Do you think I put that there by accident?"
Still silence.
He chuckled darkly. "You've been curious lately. I like that."
"I'm not your science project," she muttered.
He didn't reply.
---
When they got home, Aurora didn't go to her room.
She went straight to the bathroom. Locked the door. Sat on the floor.
Her hands were shaking.
She wasn't pregnant. She was sure.
There was no way.
But that test wasn't about now — it was about what was coming.
And she knew it.
He was prepping her. Softening her.
Wearing her down until she either broke or… gave in.
---
Later that night, he made dinner.
It smelled like rosemary and roasted chicken.
She didn't eat.
Damien didn't force her — not this time.
Instead, he sat across from her, sipping wine, watching.
"You're afraid," he said.
She didn't answer.
"I like you better when you're honest."
She finally looked at him. "What happens when I break?"
His eyes lit up, soft and terrifying.
"You become mine."
---
She slept badly that night.
Woke up sweating, dreams twisting into nightmares — some real, some not.
In one, she was standing in a field of white dresses. Each one stained red.
In another, she was holding two babies she didn't recognize, screaming, but no sound came out.
She woke up crying.
The room was silent.
But the note on her bedside wasn't.
"You'll learn to love them. Just like you'll learn to love me."
---
Meanwhile...
Annabelle Steele picked up her phone for the seventh time that day.
Still no message from Aurora.
Still no call.
Then — a buzz.
Unknown number.
She hesitated, then answered.
"Hello?"
There was silence on the line.
Then:
"Mrs. Steele?"
"Yes?"
A man's voice. Polite. Firm.
"This is Dr. Halvorsen from Newcrest Wellness. I'm calling regarding your daughter's recent consultation with us."
Annabelle frowned. "I'm sorry… consultation?"
"Yes. Last week. She came in with a guardian. I just wanted to confirm the updated pregnancy plan before we process the supplements."
Annabelle froze.
"I—I don't understand," she stammered. "Pregnancy?"
Another pause.
"…This is Mrs. Steele, correct?"
"Yes!"
There was a rustle. A click. Then the line went dead.
Annabelle sat frozen.
Hands shaking.
Heart pounding.
Pregnancy plan?
Guardian?
What the hell was happening to her daughter?
---
Back in the mansion...
Aurora stood in front of the mirror, holding the test box.
Still unopened.
Still threatening.
She wanted to scream. To run. To burn the house down and watch it crumble.
Instead, she tucked the test into the hoodie pocket and went downstairs.
Damien was reading in the lounge. Glass of wine. Candlelight.
He looked up.
She tossed the box on the table.
"I'm not pregnant," she said flatly.
He smiled.
"Not yet."