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Jonah Stane hated Aurora Stark.
He loathed her, not just because of her effortless intelligence and unyielding spirit, but because she represented everything he wasn't: genuine, loved, and untouchable.
As Obadiah Stane's son, Jonah had been groomed to see the Starks not as allies but as obstacles to the power his father craved. Pretending to be in love with Aurora was merely a part of their grand scheme. Jonah's smiles and affectionate gestures were merely lies.
Beneath his charming persona lurked the mind of a psychopath, someone who saw others as pawns in his twisted game.
Jonah watched from across the room, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of Aurora sleeping peacefully on his bed. The soft glow of the moonlight spilled through the window, casting a gentle light on her serene face, completely oblivious to the danger so close. His footsteps were silent as he approached, his expression cold and calculating, a sharp contrast to the tenderness he feigned whenever she was awake. He sat down beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.
Slowly, he reached out, his fingers grazing her cheek, tracing a delicate path down to her neck. He felt the faint thrum of her pulse beneath his touch, rhythmic and steady, a reminder of her fragility. Twisted thoughts swirled in Jonah's mind as he toyed with the idea of taking out her life, right here and now- one swift motion, and he could end it all. He imagined the satisfaction of watching the light fade from her eyes, the thrill of power it would give him, the silence that would follow. But even as his fingers lingered over her pulse, Jonah pulled back, the echo of his father's command ringing in his ears.
Not yet, he reminded himself.
Aurora stirred, as she mumbled his name softly, her voice a sleepy whisper, "Jonah?"
The sound of her voice snapped him to reality, and in an instant, his expression shifted from cold detachment to a warm, loving facade. "I'm here," he said softly, slipping under the covers beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. Aurora nestled against his chest, her breath evening out as she relaxed in his embrace, comforted by the illusion of safety he provided. Jonah rested his chin lightly on her head, stroking her hair with a tenderness that felt foreign, even to him. "Go back to sleep," he murmured. "I've got you."
"I love you," she mumbled.
"I love you too." He pressed a kiss to her head.
As Aurora drifted back into slumber, Jonah held her close, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. Despite his urgent bloodlust, he was restrained by Obadiah's demand: Aurora must live, at least until their plan to seize control of Stark Industries was complete. Jonah despised the command but understood the necessity.
