Chapter 119
Chapter 119:
Elias nodded, looking out the window as the car pulled away from the curb. He wasn’t trying to hide his affection from her—he had already declared that publicly. But he wanted this to be theirs, not a headline in tomorrow’s Page Six.
“Good p>
He touched the leather of the bag. It was a tangible promise.
“Sir,” Xavier said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Where to? The office p>
Elias looked at the bag. He looked at the blog post about lipsticks.
“No,” Elias said. “The Hamptons p>
Xavier choked on his own saliva. “The… the Hamptons? Sir, it’s Tuesday. You have a board meeting tomorrow p>
“Cancel it,” Elias said. “I have… property maintenance to attend to p>
“Property maintenance p>
“Yes,” Elias said, his eyes gleaming with a strange light. “The hedges at Thorne Manor. They are… overgrown p>
Xavier sighed. The hedges were trimmed by lasers to the millimeter every week. “Very good, sir. The Hamptons p>
The car merged into traffic, heading east. Elias leaned back, closing his eyes. He pictured Aurora opening the boxes. He pictured her trying on the colors. He wondered if she would wear red.
Red was the color of danger. The color of warning.
It was his favorite color.
The wind off the Atlantic Ocean was sharp and salty, whipping Aurora’s hair across her face as she stood on the limestone balcony of the Vance Estate.
She had bought the property quietly last month, using the staggering profits from shorting Sterling’s company. It was a sanctuary, a fortress built on the ruins of her ex-husband’s empire.
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It was peaceful here. The roar of the waves drowned out the noise of the city, the noise of the stock market, the noise of her past.
“Rory p>
She turned. Arthur Vance stood in the doorway, holding two mugs of hot cocoa. He looked healthier here. The sea air put color in his cheeks.
“Hey, Grandpa,” she smiled, taking a mug. “Thanks p>
“You look like you’re waiting for a storm,” Arthur said, joining her at the railing.
“Just thinking,” Aurora said. She looked out at the high hedges that separated their property from the neighbor’s. The neighboring estate was massive—a sprawling Gothic Revival mansion that looked more like a fortress than a home.
“That place is intimidating,” Arthur noted, gesturing with his mug. “Do we know who lives there? I’ve never seen lights on p>
Aurora took a sip of cocoa, the warmth spreading through her chest. “That’s Thorne Manor,” she said, her voice neutral. “It’s the ancestral home of the Thorne family. But don’t worry, Grandpa. Elias hates it. He calls it a mausoleum. He hasn’t set foot in it for years, so it’s essentially empty. We won’t be disturbed p>
At that exact moment, a black SUV crunched up the gravel driveway of the fortress next door.