Amidst the glittering stars and the dark secrets of high society, Aurora and Damon find themselves intertwined by an unpredictable destiny. In the heat of passion and jealousy, their souls are drawn into a game of power and desire, where past and pr...
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The car sped down the road, the hum of the engine blending with the tension that filled the air. The image of Marcos, bloodied and crumpled on the ground, haunted me. His face, Aurora's terrified expression—it played in my mind like a film I couldn't stop.
I knew I had crossed a line. The memory of my fists connecting, the sensation of muscle and bone giving way under my punches, was ever-present. The rage I had felt had been almost primal, a reflex to any threat that dared get close to Aurora. Her shock and horror had mixed with my certainty that no one would ever be allowed to hurt her.
I glanced at Aurora beside me. She sat still, pale, her wide eyes staring at nothing. The air in the car was thick with silence, broken only by the engine's growl and the wind outside. She seemed lost, still in shock. Her worry and fear weighed on me, but I couldn't let it deter me from what needed to be done.
She hadn't spoken a word since we left the school. Part of me wished she would say something, anything—to release the tension, to help make sense of what had just happened. But another part knew she was processing it all, and forcing her to speak could only make things worse.
I struggled to maintain my composure, to keep the lingering anger in check. What I had done was unacceptable, but it was also necessary. Marcos deserved it, and I had a duty to protect Aurora, no matter the cost.
The fact that I had been so violent, so ruthless, was proof of how deeply I felt the need to keep her safe. The thought of anyone hurting her, even for a moment, was intolerable. What I'd done was a reflection of just how far I was willing to go to ensure her safety. But her shocked face, her silence—it reminded me of the weight of my actions.
It wasn't just about protecting Aurora; it was about eliminating any threat before it could reach her. The possessiveness I felt wasn't just control—it was an obsession with keeping her from harm. The irony wasn't lost on me; I was causing a pain she didn't need to experience, even though my intent was to shield her.
The road stretched ahead of us, a continuous line reflecting my determination to press on, despite the chaos inside me. Driving with Aurora beside me in silence was both reassuring and unsettling. I knew she was trying to process what had happened, and I couldn't help but wonder if I'd crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.
Finally, after several minutes, she broke the silence.
"Are you okay?" she asked, the words slipping out as if she hadn't fully thought them through. It was an attempt to break the silence, to understand what was happening.
I didn't answer immediately. The silence lingered, thick and oppressive. "You don't have to worry about that," I finally said, my voice low and carrying a dark undertone I couldn't quite place. "I did what needed to be done."
"I think it was a bit more than that," she murmured, her eyes fixed on the city lights that were drawing closer.
"Don't worry about Marcos. He'll get what he deserves. I just don't understand why you're so surprised. This is what happens when someone tries to come near something they shouldn't."
