CHAPTER 120: COME...

Back to before...

"I said... did you follow me?" Alice’s voice cracked louder this time, urgent. Fear layered under the fury.

Dawin didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink.

"Yes."

The word landed like a thunderclap.

She stared at him. Horrified.

His honesty... calm, deliberate... was worse than any excuse. Worse than a lie.

It felt like standing beside a sleeping predator that had just opened its eyes.

Alice took a step back, her breath catching in her throat. She couldn’t process it.

She was fresh from the terror of Nicholas’s office, still reeling from the violent encounter.

The emotional wounds were still raw, and Dawin’s casual confession was like salt poured over them. Her mind, already fragile, struggled to make sense of this new threat. She felt a familiar panic rising, but this time, it was mixed with a disorienting helplessness.

This was Dawin.

The one who had always seemed so watchful, so quiet, so completely unreadable.

He didn’t move. He simply looked at her, his gaze unwavering as he asks, "Did you find her?"

Alice’s mind scrambled, trying to catch up. She swallowed, her throat tight. "What... what are you talking about?" she whispered. "Who are you talking about?"

"The person you came here for," he says, his voice flat. "Aurora."

It felt like the air was knocked out of her lungs. The name, spoken so casually by him, shattered her last shred of composure.

How did he know? The question echoed in the empty, frightened space in her mind.

Her eyes darted around the deserted lot, her heart hammering against her ribs. She felt exposed, completely and utterly vulnerable.

Dawin gestured towards the car which was parked just beside hers. "Let’s go somewhere else."

Alice hesitated, her hands clenching into fists. "Are you... going to... threaten me if I don’t go with you?"

He just looked at her, a strange, almost detached expression on his face. "You can do whatever you want," he said. "But didn’t you want answers?"

Answers.

The word pulled at her like a desperately. He had answers? How? Why? The questions she’s been carrying for weeks suddenly felt within reach, wrapped in the terrifying package of Dawin’s quiet confidence.

He gestured toward his car, the invitation delivered with the chilling ease of a person who never considers "no" an answer. Alice froze, her voice a fragile whisper. "We... could take mine."

One of his brows lifted slightly. "You think you’re in the right state of mind to drive?"

That question landed hard.

True.

Her mental health was not healthing.

Her hands were still trembling, her knees unsteady. Every nerve in her body was screaming that Dawin knowing about Aurora was a problem she could never bury again. Her life flashed in violent, staccato bursts. Paula’s sharp laugh, Vivian’s wary smile, Aurora’s fading face in her memory. The thought of Hades finding out she was a fraud tightened around her chest like a wire.

Was all this for nothing?

Were they all going to die because she had been careless to have been caught?

The click of his door unlocking made her flinch. He opened it for her, patient in that quiet way that somehow felt more dangerous than shouting. Her legs felt like they belonged to someone else as she walked over. She slid into the seat, her heart slamming against her ribs.

"Relax," Dawin said, his tone as mild as if he were giving a weather report. But relaxation was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

He closed her door and then hopped in.

The car hummed to life, smooth and silent. The road lights slipped over his face as he drove, his posture easy, but every now and then she caught him watching her in the reflection of the window. The silence was a weight pressing into her skull, and every passing second felt like it was leading her deeper into something she couldn’t come back from.

When he finally turned into a gated driveway, she stiffened. The sleek, nondescript building ahead gave nothing away, which somehow made it worse.

"Where are we?" she asked, her voice thin.

"One of my places." His tone was quiet, matter-of-fact. He cut the engine, and the sudden silence was deafening. He turned to face her, his eyes steady. "The smell of blood is bad on you," he said softly. "You should freshen up."

Her stomach dropped for the hundredth time today.

Freshen... up?

Dawin didn’t look away from her, his calm presence pulling the air tight around them, making her feel like prey in a room without doors.

Without another word, he stepped out of the car, walking ahead like he knew she’d follow. And she did. Slowly, cautiously, because what else was she supposed to do?

Inside, the building was too quiet, the air too still. Even the hum of the elevator felt loud. "You will find something to wear," Dawin said as the doors opened to his floor, his tone as calm as if he’d just offered her a glass of water.

Her skin prickled. When he unlocked the apartment, she hesitated at the threshold, scanning the wide, open living space. Everything was neat, minimal, almost impersonal, until he pushed open a door and nodded her inside.

The moment she stepped in, her chest tightened. It was a woman’s room. Soft curtains. A vanity table with perfume bottles neatly arranged. A faint trace of floral scent in the air. When she slid open the wardrobe, it was full of women’s clothes. Dresses, blouses, coats, all in various styles and sizes, hung as if they were waiting for their owner to come home. The sight sent a shiver down her spine. Her mind, already overloaded from the encounter with Nicholas, couldn’t process it.

From the doorway, Darwin’s voice came, low and unhurried. "The bathroom’s through there. I’ll get you some tea." She only nodded, the smallest motion she could manage, because right now, she wasn’t sure if her voice would hold. She could still feel his eyes on her before he finally walked away.

She came out all cleaned up, though "cleaned up" felt like a stretch.

She didn’t dare shower. She was not that insane to stay comfortable in this strange place.

She cleaned up all the blood and also changed into a simple black dress from the wardrobe.

Her fingers kept fidgeting with the hem as she stepped into the dining area.

Darwin was already there, seated with perfect posture. Two cups of tea sat on the table, one in front of him, one waiting for her. "Sit," he said mildly. She did, but every movement was cautious. Her hands stayed in her lap, and she didn’t touch the tea.

"I’m not going to poison you," he said after a beat, his gaze flicking toward her untouched cup. "Might be good for your nerves, though."

Her eyes narrowed, but her voice stayed low and even. "Why are you doing all this?" she asked.

He didn’t answer, just watched her over the rim of his cup. She pressed on, each word deliberate, each question balanced between bravery and survival instinct.

"If you know... if you know I’m fake, why haven’t you reported me? How long have you known?"

Her fingers curled around themselves under the table. "Is that why you’ve always looked at me like that?"

Something flickered in his expression. A hint of amusement, perhaps? Or the shadow of something darker. "How do I look at you?" he asked, his tone not accusatory, but curious.

Alice’s lips pressed together. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of describing it.

He leaned back slightly, eyes steady on her. "I find you... interesting. And it’s intriguing," he said, his head tilting, "how the sisters could be the same... yet different."

Her stomach turned. "You’ve met Aurora before."

He shrugged, as if it were of no consequence.

Her fingers tightened on the edge of the table. "Have you always known? Is that why you didn’t show up for the wedding?"

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached to the chair beside him, picked up a thin black file, and slid it across the table toward her.

She didn’t move.

"Do you want to see Aurora?" he asked quietly.

Her pulse spiked. Slowly, she reached for the file, the sound of her own breathing too loud in her ears. Her hands were trembling so badly the cardboard cover rasped under her fingertips as she opened it. The documents, the proof inside... it all stripped the blood from her veins in an instant.

Her grip on the file loosened, but she didn’t let it fall. The pages swam in her vision. Her mind refused to connect the dots. When she finally looked up, Dawin was already on his feet. "Come," he said simply, walking toward the door without glancing back.

Her body moved before her brain caught up. The file was still in her hands when they stepped out of the apartment. He didn’t speak again as they descended to his car.