Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 30190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 151(@200wpm)___ 121(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
And outside, through the glass, a figure I hadn’t seen before.
A man.
With a gun.
Pointed directly at Mik’hail’s head.
Everything slowed down.
I saw Royce lunge for Aretha, his body slamming into hers just as she raised the knife.
I saw Mik’hail turn toward me, his eyes widening, my name forming on his lips.
I saw the man outside adjust his aim.
And I didn’t think.
I just jumped.
The explosion was deafening.
Pain bloomed somewhere—everywhere—and it seemed like the world itself was fading as I started to fall. I could only wait for my head to crack against the floor...but a pair of arms caught me instead. Strong. Familiar.
“Aurora...”
Just like that voice was also familiar even as it cracked.
I tried so hard to open my eyes, but pain was consuming me from within while darkness swallowed me from the outside.
Mik’hail.
I love you.
I’m sorry.
Chapter Fifteen
ONCE UPON A TIME, A prince was supposed to wake his sleeping beauty with a kiss.
But this was not that kind of fairy tale.
The sheikh kept vigil over his sleeping beauty, the right one this time. Maybe, the one he had always meant to be with...if he had not been too proud.
Three days and three nights he sat by her bedside in the hospital wing, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the only proof that she was still with him. The bullet had grazed her side, the doctor said. A few inches to the left, and it would have pierced her heart.
A few inches.
That was all that stood between him and losing her forever.
His Briar was no damsel in need of rescue. She was the one who had saved him. Had thrown herself between him and death without a moment’s hesitation, without a single thought for her own life.
The girl he had sworn to protect had protected him instead.
And he had almost lost her because of his pride.
Because he had heard her say the words—it’s only infatuation—and believed them. Because he had been so certain that a girl like her could never truly want a man like him. Because instead of fighting for her, instead of demanding the truth, he had let her walk away.
He had failed her.
In every way that mattered, he had failed her.
Aretha was behind bars now, awaiting trial for conspiracy to commit murder. Royce had been granted immunity in exchange for his testimony, and the whole sordid tale had spilled out. The staged accident, the parents’ deaths, the years of bitter hatred festering in Aretha’s heart.
It was over.
On the morning of the fourth day, Aurora’s eyes fluttered open. The sheikh was there when she woke, and he told her everything. Aretha’s confession, Royce’s testimony, and the trial that awaited.
And when he finished, it was to find her already...asleep.
That was the last time he had visited her, with Mik’hail wanting to give her space...in case she was too nice to tell him to get out. But a week had passed since then, and with Gordan informing him that Aurora had requested to see him...
This was it, Mik’hail thought hollowly. One last chance to see her...before she walked away from him for good.
The sheikh was in his study when Gordan announced her arrival, and he rose from his chair immediately, his heart pounding against his ribs.
And then she walked in.
She was pale still, moving carefully in a way that spoke of healing wounds. But her golden hair was brushed and gleaming, her blue-gray eyes clear, and she was wearing a simple traveling dress that made her look like—
His gaze fell on the suitcase in her hand.
And his heart stopped.
He had expected this, of course.
But knowing that she would soon be out of his life still tore him apart...and he had no one to blame for it save himself.
He had pushed her away. Had spoken to her with cold cruelty, had made her believe he couldn’t wait to be rid of her. And now she was doing exactly what he had asked.
She was leaving.
This was exactly what he deserved.
“Aurora.” His voice came out steady, though he did not know how. “Please. Sit down.”
She hesitated, then lowered herself into the chair across from his desk. The same chair she had sat in when he had broken both their hearts with his pride and his fear.
The sheikh remained standing. If he sat, his legs might give out.
“Would you like something to drink?” He was already moving toward the cabinet, reaching for the crystal decanter. “Water? Wine?”
“Water is fine.”
He poured slowly. Carefully. Taking his time with each movement, hating himself for these pointless delays.
Just get this over with, he told himself. Let her go. Be noble for her one last time.
Aurora deserved a life away from all this chaos. The scandal. The man who had failed her at every turn.
He handed her the glass and watched her drink, memorizing the curve of her throat, the way the afternoon light caught the pale strands of her hair. Storing away these last moments like a miser hoarding gold.