Aurora's POV. 78.
Richards Game Tonight!.
I pushed open the giant doors at the entrance. My heart was still racing in my chest, and Luke followed silently behind me, not saying a word.
My heels clicked softly against the floor as I stepped inside.
The room was filled with soft lighting, decorations everywhere—baby-themed. I froze when I saw the centerpiece.
A large banner in gold cursive read:
“Congratulations, Aurora Hawthorne.”
Below it, balloons, cutouts of a pregnant woman, and pink-and-blue lights twinkled around. My breath caught in my throat.
Was this a joke?
A trap?
Heads began to turn. Whispers. Smiles. Then Luther turned too, from where he stood with a group of men. Not just any guests—his mafia friends. Tattooed arms, scarred faces, men who killed without blinking.
