Rejecting My Ruthless Billionaire Fiancé

The rain hammered down on Summit Mountain Cemetery, slashing through the pines, soaking through Aurora's black trench coat. She stood motionless, a tall, lean figure with sharp cheekbones and pale grey eyes that held no warmth. Water dripped from the brim of her baseball cap onto the white lily she'd placed at Vera Mercer's gravestone.

She crouched and wiped a streak of mud from the carved letters of her mother's name. The stone was freezing under her bare fingers.

Her hand stilled.

A dull, heavy thud sounded through the storm. A silenced gunshot, then another. And they were coming closer, fast.

Aurora straightened, her body coiling tight. Her gaze cut through the rain, locking onto the dense pine forest to her left.

A massive, dark figure crashed through the wet bushes. The sharp stench of blood hit her nose before the man hit the ground. He stumbled, dropped heavily onto one knee in the mud, less than three feet from Vera's headstone.

A thick spray of his blood splattered across the clean white edge of the grave.

Aurora's eyes went flat and cold.

The man forced his head up. Blood poured from a gash on his forehead, blinding him. Through blurred vision, Damian could only make out a slender silhouette in a baseball cap. A harsh, grating warning tore from his throat as he reached for his pistol, but his fingers spasmed. Too much blood loss.

The bushes behind him exploded. Six killers in black tactical vests poured out, forming a tight semi-circle that trapped Damian and Aurora against the graves. The lead killer raised his weapon, the long suppressor aimed dead center. He flicked his chin, signaling his men to eliminate the girl along with the target.

Aurora didn't even look at them.

She reached into her coat pocket, pulled out a sterile wipe, and crouched down. She began wiping the fresh blood off her mother's gravestone with slow, deliberate strokes.

The lead killer's jaw tightened. He pulled the trigger.

The bullet ripped through the rain, aimed at Aurora's back.

She didn't turn. Tracking the sound of displaced air, she tilted her body sideways at a sharp angle. The bullet scorched past her ear, singeing a stray lock of dark hair before burying itself in the mud.

Damian's pupils shrank. His instincts screamed one word. Not civilian.

Aurora dropped the dirty wipe into a puddle. She stood and turned. Beneath the shadow of her cap, her face was blank, but her eyes carried a flat, suffocating intent to kill.

Her right hand slipped into her coat. When it emerged, three thin silver needles rested between her fingers, coated with a fast-acting paralytic.

The lead killer sensed the shift. He opened his mouth to shout.

Aurora lunged. Mud erupted under her boots as she closed the distance in a heartbeat. Her left hand slapped the barrel of his gun upward. Her right drove forward. The needles sank deep into the pressure points on his neck.

He didn't scream. His eyes rolled back, and his body collapsed into the mud with a heavy splash.

The remaining five froze for a split second, then swung their weapons toward her.

Aurora didn't stop. She used the falling body as a shield, snatching the tactical knife from his belt as he went down. She moved through the rain without a sound. The blade flashed. She sliced through the second killer's wrist, severing muscle and tendon. His gun dropped.

The third lunged from behind. Aurora didn't look. She drove her elbow backward with crushing force, smashing his nose. Blood exploded across his face.

In under ten seconds, all six trained killers were down in the mud, bleeding and incapacitated.

Damian fought to keep his eyes open. He saw the brutal efficiency, tried to focus on her face, but the rain and blood loss dragged him under. His vision went black. His large frame crashed face-first into the earth.

Aurora tossed the knife aside. She walked over and nudged his shoulder with the toe of her combat boot. No response.

She crouched. Grabbing his blood-soaked collar, she ripped the shirt open. A through-and-through gunshot wound near his chest. A deep knife gash across his ribs.

A faint, irritated sigh escaped her lips. "Troublesome."

She walked briskly to her battered Jeep parked on the mountain road, retrieved a sleek waterproof medical kit from a hidden compartment, and returned. Kneeling in the mud, she unzipped the kit and pulled out a glass syringe filled with a glowing blue serum.

Her face showed nothing. She plunged the needle into the muscle near his heart and pushed the plunger down.

Within seconds, his shallow, erratic breathing steadied. The bleeding slowed.

Aurora stood. She left no trace of her identity. She turned her back on the bodies and walked to her Jeep. Time to head to Redwood City.