Aurora stepped out onto the rotting wooden balcony of the guest house. She wore a massive, oversized grey hoodie. Her wet hair clung to her neck, sending a slight chill down her spine.
The morning breeze carried the sharp scent of pine. She leaned her hip against the railing and unlocked her encrypted phone.
She pulled up the dialer and punched in the string of numbers K. Stone had provided. Before hitting send, her thumb swiped down the screen, activating the built-in micro-voice changer. It lowered the pitch of her voice, adding a slight, synthetic rasp to mask her identity.
In the Seattle VIP suite, Damian was shrugging into a custom-tailored black suit jacket.
His private phone, tucked into the inner breast pocket, began to vibrate.
Damian froze. Only five people in the world had that number.
He pulled the phone out. The screen displayed an untraceable, scrambled IP address. His brow furrowed deeply. He held up a hand, signaling Finn to stay completely silent.
Damian pressed the phone to his ear. "Who is this?" His voice was absolute zero.
Aurora listened to the deep, resonant bass coming through the speaker. Her heart rate didn't even spike.
"Damian Yates?" she asked, her altered voice cool and flat. "I'm Aurora Lott."
The moment the name registered, Damian's face twisted in profound disgust. How the hell did this country trash get her hands on his private line?
Damian let out a dark, mocking chuckle. "The Lott family's tactics are getting more pathetic by the day."
Aurora ignored the insult. She looked out at the estate grounds. "Mr. Yates, I'm calling to inform you of a decision."
"If you are calling to beg me to honor that piece of paper," Damian cut her off, his tone vicious, "I suggest you save your breath and accept reality."
Aurora shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on the balcony railing. A genuine laugh escaped her lips. "That's funny. I was about to say the exact same thing."
Damian stopped buttoning his jacket. He went perfectly still. He hadn't expected that response.
Aurora's words came out fast and sharp like broken glass. "Our engagement is over. You stay in your lane, and I'll stay in mine."
Damian narrowed his eyes. He assumed this was a cheap psychological trick. "Do you have any idea what breaking a contract with my family means?"
"It means I don't have to spend the rest of my life wiping the drool off a crippled tyrant in a wheelchair," Aurora fired back without missing a beat. "I'd say that's a massive win."
Damian's jaw clenched so hard his teeth ground together. He was actually furious, but the end result was exactly what he wanted. He wasn't going to waste his breath arguing with an idiot.
"Fine," Damian snapped. "Remember what you said today, Miss Lott. If I ever see your face, I'll destroy you."
"Right back at you," Aurora said coldly.
She pulled the phone away from her ear and hit the red button.
Damian stood in the hospital room, listening to the dial tone. He stared at the screen. She hung up on him. No one had ever hung up on him in his entire life.
He tossed the phone onto the sofa. He looked at Finn, his eyes burning with irritation. "Contact the Lott family right now. Send the official cancellation fax. I want it done in five minutes."
Finn nodded rapidly, already pulling out his tablet, silently praying for the Lott girl's soul.
Back on the balcony, Aurora slipped the phone into her hoodie pocket. She took a deep breath. The suffocating weight of the marriage contract was gone.
She walked back into the living room. Kevin and Audra were sitting rigidly on the sofa, their hands clasped together in pure anxiety.
Aurora flashed them an 'OK' sign with her fingers. "It's done. Damian agreed to cancel the marriage."
Kevin's eyes widened in sheer disbelief. "Just... just like that? He didn't scream? He didn't threaten us?"
Aurora shrugged her shoulders casually. "I guess he didn't want to marry a hillbilly either."
A massive wave of relief washed over the room. Kevin let out a breathless laugh, and Audra wiped a tear from her eye.
But Aurora knew the peace was temporary. The real storm was just forming.
In the main mansion, the head butler was practically sprinting down the hallway. His face was completely drained of blood. In his shaking hand, he clutched a freshly printed fax from the Yates family.