Page 12 of Goldflame

All I could think about then was Julian.

Julian, Julian, Julian.

I went to the party to gather intel for my revenge plans, then… It’s kind of a jumble now. Julian was already there, and he fucked with my brain. He teased me, taunted me. Maybe it was all the years I spent longing for him, or it was the naked bodies, thesexall around, but I ended up watching Julian entertain two women in one of the sex rooms. I knew he actuallywanted me and somehow that thought made my body feverish.

God, I wanted Julian to fuck me so bad.

Adrian and I had been seated on a couch, not too far from Julian. Adrian tried to get me away from his brother’s magnetic pull, but it was too strong.

I don’t know where the words came from, but I told Julian, “I think Adrian can make me come much faster than you ever did.”

Julian took it as a challenge, a dare.

I really don’t know why Adrian went along with it, but I got him involved. Soon, his hungry lips were on mine. He wanted me; I could feel it. But all I could focus on was Julian, getting off to what he was doing with the two women.

Now, the two brothers just blur together in my brain. I can feel Julian’s eyes on me at that party, the way a single look set me on fire. But I can also feel the way Adrian pulled me against him. How his body was foreign yet familiar after we’d just broken up. I clung to his suit as his hands pinched and soothed my sensitive nipples—I clung to him while getting off to Julian. Then Adrian kissed me until I was gasping for air. His thick fingers traced my inner thigh as I spread my legs for him. Or was I spreading my legs for Julian? Every touch was electric, his fingers inside me like an answer to my deepest desires.

But what the hell are those deepest desires? Which brother wasreallygiving me pleasure?

I glance up at the stranger I’m dancing with, at hisbrown eyes and amused smile. He’s about the same height as Adrian and Julian. The same build.

I reach around to check his back pockets, finding where he tucked away his mask. Trying to smile, but probably only grimacing, I slip the mask on his face, securing the ribbons around the back of his head.That’s better.

He doesn’t say a word, only watches me like I’m his entertainment for the moment.

I close my eyes and press my palms flat against his chest.

Adrian.

Julian.

Once again, I’m back with them at Victoria’s party. Both of them are swaying with me. I can even smell the whiskey on Adrian’s breath; the sweaty musk from Julian. I rest my head on a shoulder, just listening to one of their heartbeats.

They both sigh my name, “Aurelia,” like a confession.

But I can’t ignore the bad times, can I? Adrian was a study in contradictions—hot and cold, loving and distant. One morning he’d laugh with me over breakfast, his usual icy exterior melting into something almost tender. Then he’d disappear for days, returning with bruised knuckles and a haunted look in his eyes. He’d lock himself in his room, shutting me out completely.

“Adrian,” I’d call through the door. “What happened?”

Silence. Always silence. He never let me get too close

When I cried—from frustration, from loneliness, from the growing certainty that he didn’t really love meand was off fucking other women—he’d hold me, but his body would stiffen. Like my tears were an inconvenience he had to endure rather than a pain he wanted to soothe.

“It’s alright,” he’d say, patting my back mechanically. “You’re alright.”

And Julian… he’s the definition of toxic. Yet so tender. Growing up, we were practically glued at the hip. He knows all of my deepest secrets; I’ve laid myself bare before him and he did the same. So different from his brother. So willing to let me in, to help me achieve my goals.

Or hewas. I have no idea how things between us are going to change. If he’ll ever come back to me.

The music shifts, pulling me back to this stranger’s arms. My body moves against his. The champagne has transformed my blood into liquid courage, dissolving the barriers I’ve built around myself these past two weeks.

I reach up and run my fingers along the mask I put on his face, willing his eyes to turn blue.

He looks amused. “What’s this for?”

I don’t answer. I can’t tell him that I’m trying to rewrite reality, that I’m desperate to pretend he’s someone else.

I miss both Harrow brothers, but these sudden feelings for Adrian are the most startling. I never thought I cared for him like this. I spent years convincing myself that our relationship was a cage we were both trapped in. But now grief carves channels through me that I never knew existed, revealing depths of emotion I wasn’t prepared to face.

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