Chapter 49
Chapter 49:
“Just a ghost,” Aurora said.
On the other end of the line, in his penthouse, Sterling stared at the receiver. His face turned a deep, blotchy red.
“She hung up on me,” he whispered to the empty room. “She’s… playing hard to get p>
He slammed the phone down. “She’s obsessed with me p>
Sterling was convinced the outburst on the phone was sexual frustration. It had to be. Why else would she be so emotional? He decided to escalate. He called Beatrice Thorne, his grandmother. The Matriarch of the Thorne family.
“Grandmother,” Sterling said, putting on his ‘good grandson’ voice. “I want to invite Aurora to your charity dinner tonight. I need to… bury the hatchet p>
Beatrice sighed on the other end. She was a sharp woman. She liked Aurora. She knew Sterling had messed up.
“Fine,” Beatrice said. “I will ask her p>
Beatrice called Aurora ten minutes later.
“Dear,” Beatrice’s voice was warm. “I would love to see you at Per Se tonight. Sterling wants to make amends p>
Aurora was respectful but firm. “Mrs. Thorne, I respect you deeply. But I cannot be in his orbit. I have moved on p>
“I understand,” Beatrice said. “I’m proud of you, child. You have a spine p>
Beatrice hung up. She did not call Sterling back to tell him Aurora had declined. She decided it was time for her grandson to learn a lesson about entitlement.
Sterling assumed Aurora was coming. He forced Lance to book a table at Per Se. It was impossible to get a reservation, but Sterling used the family name.
8:00 PM. Sterling sat at the best table in the restaurant. He was wearing a tuxedo. He checked his reflection in the back of a silver spoon. Lance sat opposite him, looking uncomfortable in an ill-fitting suit.
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“She’ll be here,” Sterling said, checking his watch. “She’s just making an entrance. Women love drama p>
8:30 PM. The waiter poured more water. Sterling waved him away irritably.
9:00 PM. Other diners started glancing at the empty chair. The whispers began. Sterling checked his phone. No messages. He texted Isabella under the table: Meeting running late. Business stuff. He was lying to cover up the fact that he was being stood up by his ex-wife.
Lance cleared his throat. “Sir, maybe we should order? The kitchen p>
“Quiet!” Sterling hissed. “She is coming p>
9:45 PM. The kitchen was closing soon. The restaurant was emptying out. Sterling’s illusion finally cracked. He realized she wasn’t coming. She wasn’t playing a game. She just didn’t care.
The humiliation burned hotter than the rejection. He felt the eyes of the staff on him. The pity. He stood up, throwing his napkin on the table. It knocked over a wine glass. Red wine spilled across the white tablecloth like blood.
“She’s trying to humiliate me publicly,” Sterling seethed. “She planned this p>
“Pay the bill, Lance,” Sterling commanded. He stormed out, brushing past the maitre d’ without a word.
Cut to Aurora. She was not in a dorm. She was in her penthouse at the Obsidian Tower. Yvonne was there, sitting cross-legged on the expensive Italian leather sofa. They were eating greasy pepperoni pizza from a cardboard box, a deliberate desecration of the luxury surroundings. They were laughing at a bad reality TV show where rich people fought over nothing.