Her City of Death | ongoing

chapter two

"Daddy?" I whisper, I suddenly feel like someone is watching me. "How?" I breathe out as I shut the blinds and drapes that could permit someone to see inside my apartment through the large windows lining the walls.

I hear him take a deep breath on the other end of the line, "Aurora, I need you to listen to me closely. There is someone after you. The Italian Mafia discovered that you are alive. I cannot keep you safe if you are in another country. It is time to come home."

"No, I can't - I have friends and people that matter to me here, I can't just leave them here without protection." I mutter into the phone, "If your enemies know about me then they know about my friends, that means they are at risk."

"Clever girl," I can almost hear the smile in his voice, "Your friends are welcome to come with you to France, by their own choice. You may tell them everything on the jet."

"You won't..." I trail off.

"I won't kill them, Aurora, I am not the monster that you have constructed in your head." He sighs, "I love you, my star. I am more than overjoyed to have you in my arms again."

"I love you too, Daddy." I mumble.

"I'll send a car for you first thing in the morning, you will board a jet, you will fly directly to the loading docks," He tells me, "When the threat is uliminated you can - if you choose - return to New York City and continue working at the Hardrock Diner as a waitress." He pauses, "I just need to be sure that you're safe before I let you go and live this new life of yours."

I nod, but quickly mutter when I realize he can't actually see me despite my paranoia about being watched, "Okay, um. Did you know the whole time?"

"That you were alive? No, I discovered it three months after. Your DNA did not match your supposed 'body' although it was clever. The mutilated face. The hair color looked too acid-like to be yours so I made the executive decision to perform a test. Besides the Italian Mafia, no one from France knows you're alive." He explains to me, I can hear the sadness in his frail voice and my pushed-down guilt starts to eat at me again.

"I'm so sorry," I tell him, "I know," I stress the words again, "I know that you needed me but I was a weak little girl, I was a coward. I know that's no excuse, but daddy, I was afriad-"

"I would have protected you from anything, Aurora." He interupts me, "You are my daughter. I would die for you and your sins. But you will never have to die from mine, that is a promise. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I do." I say.

"Do not leave without saying goodbye again." He orders.

"I won't," I want to promise it, I want to swear it on my life - on Mama's grave. But I don't break promises and this is not one I can keep.

+++

I called my friends that night to let them know of a 'last minute but super exciting' trip to France. They were stoked, to say the least. I didn't want to lie to them but I definitely didn't want them in danger. I know they will be protected once we get to my old home.

I watch as our bags are loaded on the private jet, which Nick has been questioning me about since - one, we got into a limousine instead of a taxi and two, we didn't take the route to the airport. Another thing that I'll have to explain. My wealth.

You know that past I've been trying so desperately to bury and hide from my friends at the same time? Yeah, it's about to fucking explode. Aurora Thomas the waitress at a dead end diner in Brooklyn is actually Aurora Berkeley the heiress to the French Mafia.
God, Nick is going to shit himself.

We board the jet, all of them giving it questionable looks when they see the French themed inside. I almost smile, he wanted to give me a taste of what I had been missing for five years. Everyone settles in as we take off.

"Fuck, Rory, I completely forgot to ask - How in the hell did you win an all expense paid trip to France on a private jet." Drake gasps as he looks around. I don't think I've ever seen him in that much awe before.

"And the limo?" Beth shrieks, "With the champagne - and authentic swiss chocolate?"

"And what was that comment that the driver made about your dad?" Veronica pipes in, looking out the window as we fly.

"Yeah, I thought your mom and dad were doctors in Florida." Nick watches me.

I sit down, hesitating - and I mean really fucking hesitating. They all look at me expectantly. Do I lie? I should just lie, tell them that - fuck.

"I- I've been lying to you all for the past five years." I start and then wince, I probably shouldn't have started with that, "My real name is Aurora Berkeley. If you look that up it will say that I died at eighteen in France."

"Are you a ghost?" Drake blurts.

I roll my eyes, "No, she's not a fucking ghost, idiot. Those aren't real." Nick glares at him.

"My mother was shot and killed in front of me, I was too afraid that I would be next because my father has so many enemies, I faked my death. My penthouse is funded by the money that I stole from him before I left." I take a deep breath. "My father is Charles Berkeley, the Don of the French Mafia."

"Holy fuck! Are you joshing us, Rory?!" Nick lets out.

I fucking wish, "No, Nick, I'm not."

"Why are you taking us with you to France, if they all think you're dead..?" Beth asks.

"A few weeks ago, someone in the Italian Mafia discovered that I'm alive. They are the ones that killed my mother. They have been watching me, this means they know that all of you are my soft spots. You're going to stay in the custody of the French Mafia until the threat can be eliminated." I whisper, "I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry?" Drake echoes, "Fuck no, this is cool as shit. Are we staying in one of those snazzy ass mansions?"

"It's a base." I clarifty, "But yes, it looks like one of those mansions. You'll each have your own room." I stand, "That past you've all been trying to pry out of me for years? There it is."

I walk towards the bathroom, it's bigger than a typical plane bathroom but it's still small. I shut the door, trying not to break down into a million little pieces. I've never admitted any of it out loud, I haven't even spoke about my mom in five years. I miss her.
She's been gone for five years? God, it seems like that day at the tower happened just days ago. Have I been living in this self sabatoging bubble for so long that I didn't even realize how long I've been without my mom? Slow, hot tears trickle down my flushed cheeks. A knock sounds at the door and I wipe them quickly. Can I even speak without my voice breaking?

I clear my throat, "Yeah?"

"It's Nick, open the door, Ror." He calls to me. I do, reluctantly.

My glossy eyes meet his hard ones.

"Look, I'm not going to say that I'm okay with you lying to me and building our entire friendship on the pretense of your amazing family and blah, blah, whatever, but you are my best friend in the entire world, Rory. You're shit for lying and I get why you did it but our pasts build us, they shape us, trauma makes you who you are whether you'd like to believe that or not." He tells me, "I am here for you, completely. Every fucked up thing you've ever gone through, every fucked up thing you've ever done, I am here for you. I don't care if you tell me that you murdered someone and enjoyed it, I love you."

I'm not a hugger, I never have been one. In fact, I hate physical contact completely. But my arms have never pulled someone into me as fast as they do Nicholas Jones. I bury my head in the crook of his neck and inhale his pine tree scent. "I love you, Nick. So fucking much."