Pawn In His Games.

Aurora's POV6.

I woke up to someone calling and knocking on the door, sounding both polite and a bit pushy. My heart started racing, and panic kicked in, shaking off the sleepiness.

“Mrs. Hawthorne?”

The knock echoed in my mind. I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Just a few more minutes, I told myself, letting the warmth of the bed lure me back.

“Mrs. Hawthorne? May I come in, ma’am?”

That voice again. Oh my God, it’s me! I jumped out of bed, the realization hitting me like a splash of cold water. I had just married Luther, and I was now a Hawthorne. It felt surreal—like a dream I hadn’t fully woken up from.

But wait. I can’t stay married to him. Revenge first, then divorce. That thought was a spark in the chaos of my mind.

“Mrs. Hawt—”

Before the voice could finish, I called out, “I’m coming! I’m coming!” I quickly reached for the blanket, pulling it around me as I sat back on the bed, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. “You can come in!” I said with more confidence than I felt.

The door creaked open, revealing Luther’s assistant. As he stepped in, he faced the door, averting his eyes from me. I sensed his discomfort.

“Um… you can turn back and tell me why you’re here, please,” I said, forcing calm into my voice.

“No, ma’am… I’ve come to drop your dress for you.” He sounded awkward, glancing only briefly at me. He carefully placed my dress on the table, still avoiding my gaze. “Boss is waiting in the car. He wants you in there quickly,” he added, his voice sharp.

“What happened to his legs? Why can’t he walk?” The question escaped my lips before I could stop it. I barely registered the urgency in my tone.

“Ma’am, it’s best you ask him.” The assistant replied coldly, then turned and left the room.

As the door clicked shut, my heart sank. Had I really asked the wrong person? What if word reached Luther? The thought of him finding out I was asking about his condition, made my stomach churn.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease.

I rushed to the table, my heart racing as I grabbed the dress. Without wasting a moment, I darted into the bathroom. The warm water felt soothing against my skin, washing away my nerves. After a quick bath, I slipped into the dress. When I stepped out of the bathroom, ready to leave, my eyes caught the mirror.

I paused, drawn to my reflection. The dress looked beautiful on me, hugging my curves perfectly. I couldn’t believe it—I was wearing something that smelled so expensive, something I could never afford, even if I saved all year.

Suddenly, the assistant's voice echoed in my mind. I had to hurry downstairs; they were waiting for me in the car. Panic shot through me. Oh my God, Luther! He would be so angry.

I quickly left the room, my heart pounding as I made my way to the car. I could feel the sweat forming on my brow, mixing with the anxiety that was now coursing through me. Once I got into the car, I sat down a little too far from Luther. He wasn’t smiling; he didn’t even glance my way.

Then I noticed him pull something out of his pocket. My stomach churned.

“Um... sir?” I asked hesitantly. The words stumbled out. I didn’t know what else to call him; calling him by his name felt too personal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you…”

Before I could finish, he stretched out his hand toward me. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, like I wasn’t even there. I looked down at his palm—he was holding a handkerchief.

“Get those sweats cleaned up! I told you I will not tolerate mistakes!” he snapped. His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension in the car.

I let out a shaky breath, panic rising in my chest. “Um... okay, okay... I’m sorry, sir…” I stammered, fear flooding my face. My hands trembled as I took the handkerchief from him, feeling the weight of his disappointment press down on me like a heavy stone.

"Luke, to the Hawthorne's mansion, immediately!" Luther's voice was icy as he lounged in his seat, looking unbothered.

"Yes, boss!" His assistant, Luke, replied without a hint of hesitation. The car sped off, and I could feel the tension in the air.

As we pulled up to a grand mansion, a wave of memories washed over me. My family was wealthy once—well, my mother was. After she passed, my father transferred everything to Lydia. Now, this place was a constant reminder that I had lost my inheritance. The Hawthorne mansion dwarfed my childhood home; it was intimidating.

Luke came out from the car and rushed to assist Luther, sit in his wheelchair. I hesitated for a moment, then stepped out too, feeling drawn to help. But as I got closer, Luther’s cold eyes turned sharply toward me.

“Don’t you even dare!” he snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through the thick air. “Who called for your help, girl? Learn to mind your business and answer when you’re being wanted! Do you understand?”

Each word felt like a blow. My heart raced, and I barely managed to stutter, “Ye...s...yes, sir.”

I watched as his assistant finished helping him settle into the wheelchair, and then he rolled him away, leaving me trembling. What was I thinking? I was nothing more than a pawn in his game—just someone to satisfy his needs whenever he craved it. A plaything, that’s all.

Suddenly, I noticed a girl, probably my age—or maybe even older—walking confidently toward Luther. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but there was something in her posture that made me uneasy.

“N-no, don’t,” I whispered to myself as I clenched my fists, the realization hitting me hard. I was just watching from the sidelines.

Why did I even try to help? I already knew my place. But despite that, a part of me ached to be more than just a shadow in his world, even if it felt impossible.

"Brother Luther!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the quiet.

Oh no, now it's Luther she’s calling out to. I felt a mix of surprise and anxiety. She must be his sister. That makes sense; I haven’t met everyone yet since I got here.

She walked slowly toward him, and then, without any warning, she kissed him on the cheek. My stomach twisted. Wait, was that jealousy creeping in? No, it couldn't be.

"Brother, is she the one?" Her eyes were filled with confusion as she looked between us.

"But she doesn’t look like the girl we saw in the picture," she continued, her gaze now fixed on me. It felt like she was examining me, searching for something familiar, like I was a ghost she thought she recognized.

That was the moment Luther finally looked at me, but even that felt distant. Since we left the hotel, he hasn’t held my gaze for more than a second. I felt my heart race.

What was she talking about? A picture? What picture? Who did she think I was? Who was she expecting?

I stood there, my mind racing with questions, feeling exposed and bewildered. All I wanted was to understand what was happening, why her eyes were filled with disbelief. This wasn’t just a casual encounter anymore; it felt like I had stepped into something much bigger, something I wasn’t ready for.