Unraveled at 'I Do'

Marco's jaw was rough with stubble, his bloodshot eyes locked on her. His grip tightened.

Aurora's heart nearly stopped. For a second, she thought he might actually choke her out. She fought with everything she had.

The struggle wasn't subtle. In the end, he let go, but the pure hatred in his eyes stayed.

Gasping, she clutched her aching neck, hands shaking.

"Still playing the victim?" His voice was cold, raw with something deeper. "What did you say to Sofia? She was so distraught she slit her wrist. She's in the hospital, fighting for her life!"

Aurora almost laughed.

"What did I say? The truth. She wanted you to lock me up like that would fix everything, but it was all for nothing. Tell me I'm wrong."

Brutal. Marco's face flickered between red and pale. He remembered exactly what he'd done.

But then he pictured Sofia in that hospital bed, wrist slit, and his gaze went ice-cold. "If you hadn't trashed Sofia to Prof. Serrano and ruined her shot at the competition, I wouldn't have had to go that far. And that was my decision, not hers.

"Go apologize to Sofia. Explain everything to Prof. Serrano, and I'll let this go."

Aurora just laughed.

If anything, she thought maybe—just maybe—he'd feel the slightest bit guilty.

But this?

She laughed until her eyes burned with tears.

"What's so funny?"

Marco frowned, clearly pissed.

"That you actually think I care what you want." She wiped the corner of her eye, her expression turning to stone. "Apologize to her? In your dreams."

Her fingers tightened around her phone. "Now get out of my hospital room. Or I call the cops."

His jaw flexed like he was about to argue—then his phone rang. He picked up, and whatever he heard made his face go pale.

"She tried to hurt herself again?"

Without another word, he bolted.

Aurora watched him go, her whole body finally unclenching as she slumped back onto the bed.

Her neck throbbed where he'd grabbed her—a burning, ugly reminder. A cold shiver ran down her spine.

Her eyes flicked to her plane ticket. Maybe she should just leave early. Without hesitating, she called the Fremoran dance troupe to see if she could move up her flight.

Mid-call, a message popped up from an unknown number.

[Go to Prof. Serrano and clear up the misunderstanding about Sofia. Or else, you'll regret it.]

Aurora frowned.

Luckily, the dance troupe agreed—she could arrive ahead of schedule. Exhaling, she blocked the number and deleted the message.

She was leaving Santora soon. No more Marco. No more Sofia. No more of their messed-up games.

Closing her eyes, she tried to rest, but sleep refused to come.

Her night was restless, twisted with fragmented, bizarre dreams. Then, the relentless buzz of her phone yanked her awake.

Another message. This time from a number way outside the city.

[You homewrecker. You keep stealing other women's men—do you even know how to survive without one?]

Aurora blinked, disoriented. Before she could react, her phone glitched, lagging under a flood of similar texts.