Page 114 of Goldflame
AURELIA
The afternoon sun paints everything golden, casting long shadows across Lorenzo’s beautiful lawn. I’ve always dreamed of having a lawn like this, so green and thick.
I sit on a wrought iron garden chair, sipping my iced tea as I watch Adrian attempt to teach Roby how to throw a baseball. It’s both endearing and hilarious—this deadly, calculating man who can orchestrate the downfall of empires, completely baffled by a five year old’s energy.
“Throw it harder!” Roby yells, bouncing on his toes. “You’re not even trying!”
Adrian’s brows furrow in concentration. He holds the ball like it might explode, adjusting his grip three times before finally releasing it in an awkward, mechanical motion. The ball sails past Roby, landing in a flowerbed.
Lorenzo chuckles beside me. “He’s so bad at this.”
I can’t help but laugh too. “But he tries. That’s what’simportant.”
“Why does he insist on wearing a three-piece suit, even when playing?” Lorenzo asks, gesturing toward Adrian, who’s now dusting invisible dirt from his sleeve.
I shrug, watching as Adrian removes his suit jacket and carefully lays it over a garden bench before rolling up his sleeves. “The world could be ending, but Adrian would face the apocalypse in a perfectly tailored Armani suit.”
We dissolve into laughter again as Roby runs circles around Adrian, who looks increasingly bewildered by this tiny human hurricane.
Something tightens in my chest as I watch them. This is what normal looks like, isn’t it? This is what we could have been—what my life might have been—without the Consortium’s toxic legacy tainting everything.
Maybe this could be our future.
“I’m going to grab something to eat,” I say, standing and stretching. “Want anything?”
Lorenzo shakes his head. “I’m good. But if you’re going to the kitchen, could you ask Maria to bring out some lemonade for Roby? He’ll be thirsty after all this… whatever this is.” He waves vaguely at Adrian’s attempt to explain baseball to an increasingly bored child.
Inside, the mansion is cool and quiet. I wander toward the kitchen, almost walking on a cloud. These past weeks have been surreal—taking out two men from my hit list, falling even deeper in love with Adrian, finally having a family who actually cares about me. It feels too good, like a dream I’ll wake from any moment.
Voices drift from the front of the house, pulling mefrom my thoughts. Someone sounds like they’re in an argument.
“You have to send her away,” the butler says, his normally proper tone edged with irritation. “Don’t tell Lorenzo, just make her leave.”
“I’m getting sick of her,” a guard responds. “This is the third time this week.”
My steps slow as I hover at a corner, just out of sight.
“Signore Lorenzo was clear. She’s not to be allowed in under any circumstances.”
Who are they talking about?
I round the corner, deciding to find out for myself. The butler and guard stand near the massive front doors, heads bent together in conversation. They both straighten when they see me.
“Miss Aurelia,” the butler says. “Do you need something?”
“Is something wrong?”
He waves a dismissive hand. “Nothing to concern yourself with. Please. Just a minor security issue.”
The guard mumbles something about checking the perimeter and slips out the front door before I can question him further.
I’m too curious to let this go. After years of being kept in the dark, of being treated like a prize to claim, I’m done with half-truths and evasions.
“Excuse me,” I tell the butler, brushing past him before he can stop me. I follow the guard across the circular driveway toward the imposing wrought iron gates.
As I approach, I see who they were arguing about.
A woman stands on the other side of the gate, gesturing wildly as she argues with a different guard. There’s something familiar about her.