Page 1 of Goldflame

CHAPTER ONE

AURELIA

There’s a strange kind of silence that falls after someone dies. That silence was fresh when I killed DeMarco, a drug when I offed Whitman, and an old friend when I ended Victoria.

But this silence… the silence that hangs around Adrian’s lifeless body… I can’t bear it.

I can’t bear the weight of so much death.

I thought revenge would feel like victory. Like justice. Instead, it feels like Adrian’s blood drying on my hands while Julian aims his gun at my heart, his mother’s web of lies choking us both. The truth of what she’s done—what she’s orchestrated—sinks into my bones like poison.

The silence cuts deeper than any blade as I stare down the barrel of Julian’s gun. Betrayal has cracked me open completely—his more than Lady Harrow’s. Everything I thought I knew is bleeding away like Adrian’s life on this pristinecarpet.

Mom, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was so naive. I know you wanted a better life for me.

My gaze darts to the door behind Julian and Lady Harrow. The survival instinct that’s kept me alive all these years kicks in, sending electricity through my limbs. My heart pounds as I calculate angles, distances, possibilities. The cream-colored walls of Lady Harrow’s new recovery room feel like they’re closing in. The antiseptic smell mingles with the metallic scent of blood and her flowery perfume.

There has to be a way out. There’s always a way out. But I don’t think I can run around both of them fast enough. And the window behind me is too far away; Julian will fire before I reach it.

My chest aches—would he really shoot me?

Julian’s finger twitches around the trigger and I flinch, but really, the ice in his eyes has already killed me. Those eyes that once looked at me with such heat now remind me he’s aHarrow. Powerful. Cunning. Cruel. The dim light catches on his muscled frame, on the skeleton snakes tattooed up his forearms. The way he holds himself now—jaw clenched, shoulders rigid—reminds me of all those times I watched him in the underground fight club. He’s trained to eliminate threats without hesitation.

Even though he tried so hard to distance himself from the Inferno Consortium and his father, Lucian, cruelty runs deep in his veins. And right now, all I am to him is a threat to be dealt with. The woman who supposedly murdered his brother and tried to kill his mother.

The fear crystallizes into something harder,something that burns. How dare he? Howdarehe make me the villain? He didn’t even try to hear me out when I told him the truth.

My fingers tighten around my own weapon as I keep it trained on Lady Harrow—the real puppet master. The gun trembles slightly in my grip, the metal slick with Adrian’s blood against my palm. My hands look small wrapped around it, just like they always looked small in his.

I hate that I’m trembling, hate myself for showing weakness. For letting them see how everything inside me is struggling to hang on.

The rage is now bubbling in my throat like bile. Rage at Lady Harrow for her perfect manipulation. At Julian for believing her lies so easily. At myself for not seeing it sooner. For getting here too late to stop Lady Harrow from shooting Adrian.

Adrian…

He’s… gone. Suddenly, there’s a chasm in my heart I never expected. We dated for ten years, but I always felt he only wanted me for show—the Harrow who got the Golden One. He was always so distant. In return, I kept myself closed off, not wanting to fall for him when I knew he’d never truly love me.

So what’s this emptiness I feel?

I swallow hard. Whatever this is, I can’t linger on it right now. First, I need to escape, and it’ll take a gamble for me to survive this alive.

“Go ahead,” I taunt, tasting copper on my tongue from biting my cheek too hard. “Pull the fucking trigger. Show me how much of your father’s son you really are.”

His jaw ticks. It means I’ve struck a nerve.Good.Let him feel a fraction of what’s burning through me right now.

“Don’t,” is all he says. The word comes out low and dangerous and makes my blood freeze.

But there’s something else—a slight waver that most people wouldn’t catch because they don’t know him like I do. Right now, beneath that cold exterior, fear flickers in those blue eyes.

Real fear.

Fear of what, though? Me? How could that be true when he has the upper hand?

Doesn’t matter, his fear and hesitation are my way out. I’ll call his bluff.

“What’s wrong, Julian?” I force my lips into a cruel smirk. “Scared you’ll miss? Or scared you’ll actually do it?”

Lady Harrow’s hands twist in his shirt, her thin fingers clawing at the fabric. Even now, with her skin tight from botox and her black bob disheveled, she maintains that prim demeanor. But I see her eyes widen as her mask slips for just a moment. She didn’t expect this—didn’t expect me to fight back when cornered. Didn’t expect her perfect plan to meet resistance.

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