Aurora
I couldn't sleep.
I had slumped in my bed two hours ago. I was hungry. It's been two weeks snacking on chocolates and champagne to survive.
Surprised?
I became a vegetarian after my first class with Miss Veronica. All thanks to Mrs. Moore, who fears that I would gain weight before the gala.
As the days drew closer to the event, she weighed me every three days to keep me in check. I despised her.
News circulating has said that the gala would be hosted in this very mansion.
Once I closed my eyes, the butterflies in my stomach made an angry growl. I'd tried counting from one to one hundred and listening to slow instrumentals, but none of it worked.
My future husband did nothing about the strict diet.
We'd barely exchanged words since the morning he left the breakfast room in a hurry. I was avoiding conversation with him, yet it seemed exhausting.
The mansion was enormous, yet three rooms away felt like a stone's throw.
We ran into each other several times: him coming out of his room at the same time as me for breakfast; me taking a walk in the vineyard at night while he returned home from work.
Every time we collided, I wanted to shove my nails into his eyes for treating me like a television series of Hollywood Housewives.
He didn't have the courtesy to respond to my greetings.
I tapped my phone screen. My clock flipped from 12:05 am to 12:06 am.
I groaned again in frustration.
Screw everyone. I'm getting something to eat.
I tossed the covers off, tiptoed out of my room. I went down the stairs into the hallway.
There should definitely be a snack I can munch on.
I flipped on the kitchen lights, walking past the cabinets and trolleys, and I spotted a steel door with a lever handle.
Presumably, this is a fridge. I glanced back twice.
I twisted the handle, pulling it towards me. Here goes nothing.
The chilly air brushed against my skin, smelling of fresh snow. Oh, my goodness!
My jaw dropped in astonishment.
I stood in a corridor with high glass shelves on both sides. Before me lay a display of bright red strawberries, golden croissants, layered cake slices, macarons, fruit tarts, and cupcakes.. all laid on multiple tiers.
It was a dessert buffet.
I filled my mouth with every pastry I laid my fingers on. I moaned the sweetness in each bite, doing a happy dance.
Bury me here.
"Still hungry, huh?"
I jumped and gagged at the unexpected voice behind me. Turning, Devin stood in the doorway, his gaze fascinated as it traveled between the shelves and my stuffed mouth.
For the first time, he chose not to dress in a suit and tie.
Instead, a navy blue t-shirt stretched across his broad chest, the sleeves emphasizing the sculpted planes of his muscles and his pale ivory skin.
Gray sweatpants hugged just below his waistline, leading me into explicit thoughts before I kicked them out.
I swallowed hard, " You scared me." My voice came out breathless. " What are you doing here?"
" Couldn't sleep." He paused. " At least I'm not sneaking to steal food."
His eyes held mine for a brief moment before flickering over me.
A sense of déjà vu swept me back to the first night we met. His eyes paused at my torso, darkening from green to midnight in the forest.
I looked down, and my heart stumbled at what caught his attention.
I'd slept hot tonight, wearing a pink set; lace camisole with tiny straps, boy shorts, and a sheer lace robe. I'd forgotten this was only convenient behind my bedroom door.
The shorts stopped above my mid-thigh, and my top showed a very generous amount of skin.
I looked up again. Devin's gaze had returned to my face.
I tugged my robe over my body as he reached for the grapes beside me, the small breeze from his movements brushing my skin.
Goosebumps pebbled, and the butterflies in my tummy fluttered.
Part of me wanted to run into a safety room. The other one wanted to play with fire.
"Are you just going to watch me?"
"Don't be hard on yourself."
"Your mother ordered me to be starved, and you have said nothing about it."
Devin crooked his eyebrow. "This is not my house, Aurora."
" Then let's go to yours. This gala preparation is driving me insane. I have training classes every day from morning till evening, and when I come back to refuel for the next day," I took in a deep breath. "They serve me, what? a plate of chicken salad with water."
" Live with it."
"This arrangement: you avoided my question the first time, and I'll ask again. What could you possibly get out of this engagement that you don't have already?"
His expression stiffened," It doesn't matter."
" I'm getting married to you, it does."
" No, it doesn't. Why do you care about the reason we're together?" His voice ran cold within seconds. " You'll still marry me either way. After all, you're an obedient daughter who never says no to her father, even if it's cost your success in life."
An icy pang of shock snatched the breath from my lungs.
I couldn't pinpoint when the conversation escalated so quickly, but Devin had hit the ugliest part of myself. The part I hate but couldn't run away from.
" I understand it now," I fought the trembling anger igniting in me. " An arranged marriage is the only way you can control someone. You are so.... so...." I struggled to find the best word. "Evil."
He took all my weapons from me.
Dark amusement slid through his eyes, " If I'm so evil. Tell your father to call off the wedding." He took my phone from the shelf, handing it to me." Call him right now and you'll crawl back into his dungeon."
It was two sides of a coin: seduction and fear. He knew I couldn't do it. But his rich and sharp edged voice tempted me to eat of the apple.
I turned my face away. My fingers curled, nails biting into my palm.
I didn't take my phone from his hand.
I wanted to, so much more than the urge of spiting at Devin's face.
I was suddenly reminded of our club nights with Celine, feeling a strong desire for those moments.
But I couldn't.
My father's anger. My mother's complaints. The havoc it would cost my life, the bruises on my mother's face.
Where would I even begin? I couldn't do it.
Something sparked in his eyes.
Disappointment? Disapproval? I couldn't tell.
"Of course. What was I expecting," he whispered.
The finality of his words dug sharper than a spade.
We stood in silence, but my stomach had lost its cravings.
I lowered my head in shame, waving a white flag of surrender.