LANCE'S POV:
I didn't get much sleep last night.
Aurora's sobs echoed through the guest room for what felt like hours, until finally the condo was quiet again, too quiet.
I stared at the ceiling from the couch, still fully dressed, half-hoping i'd wake up and find out none of this was real.
But Luis Padilla was dead.
And Aurora Yaabelle Zobel was in my condo.
And for some damn reason, I'd volunteered to protect her.
Morning came in pieces.
Muted sunlight filtered in through my blinds, touching the edges of the room but never fully brightening it.
I made coffee before anything else. Something strong.
Something to stop the noise in my head.
I hadn't touched an actual case since i quit litigation two years ago.
Criminal defense had burned me out, I walked away after winning one i shouldn't have.
Since then, I stuck to consulting and corporate work.
Clean. Controlled. Predictable.
But this?
This wasn't clean.
And it sure as hell wasn't predictable.
Aurora hadn't stirred when i passed by the guest room earlier.
I figured she needed all the sleep she could get.
She hadn't said a word after i led her in there last night.
Just walked like her soul had left her body.
I hadn't even tried to talk to her. What was i supposed to say?
"Hey, I know you're grieving and being publicly crucified, but can you give me the full timeline so i can poke holes in your alibi?"
No.
She didn't need a lawyer interrogating her.
She needed a person.
And as much as i hated it, I was apparently that person now.
I opened my laptop at the counter, coffee in one hand.
News articles, social media clips, photos from the night of the party.
I reviewed them all, combing through statements and timelines.
I watched Aurora's name get dragged again and again by reporters, by influencers, by bored people online who didn't care about truth, just spectacle.
But nothing made sense.
Luis was found lifeless in the private VIP suite of the bar, no signs of struggle, no visible wounds, just a sudden collapse.
Toxicology still pending.
Initial report said cardiac arrest, but that was too convenient.
Especially with the security footage "accidentally corrupted."
Right. As if that happens by chance at a celebrity-packed venue.
"Lance?"
A voice. Hesitant. Just outside the guest room door.
Aurora.
I closed my laptop quickly.
"Yeah?" I called out.
"I… sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt," she said, peeking out. Her face was blotchy, eyes red, skin pale.
She wore one of my oversized hoodies and had tied the sleeves around herself like she was trying to disappear inside it.
"You're not interrupting," I said, softer now. "How are you feeling?"
She shrugged, eyes downcast. "Still feels like I'm stuck in a movie. A bad one."
I nodded.
I knew that feeling.
"Do you want something to eat? Coffee?"
"No appetite," she mumbled. "But… water, maybe."
I grabbed a bottle from the fridge and handed it to her.
She took it with both hands, then stood in silence.
That silence stretched.
I didn't want to pressure her, but we both knew what needed to happen.
"Prosecutor might want to question you soon," I said carefully. "There's… not a lot of evidence. But they'll ask you about the party."
Aurora nodded slowly. "I barely remember anything after midnight. I didn't even drink that much, but my head just… went foggy."
"Anyone give you a drink directly?"
She blinked. "Luis offered me one. I said no. Then someone else handed me something later. I don't even remember their face. But after that… everything's a blur."
I leaned against the counter, heart tightening.
"Did you see Luis after that?"
"No," she whispered. "I left. I swear, Lance. I went home."
"I believe you."
She looked up sharply. "Really?"
"Yeah," I said. "I do."
I wasn't sure why i said it so easily. But i did. And i meant it.
Something about her eyes… something about the way she said i swear last night, like it was all she had left.
A knock at the door.
Aurora jumped.
I moved fast, checking the peephole.
Two women.
I unlocked it cautiously. "Yes?"
The first woman was petite, pin-straight hair, tinted glasses.
The second wore black from head to toe and looked like she hadn't slept.
"I'm Selena," the first one said. "Aurora's friend. This is Bianca, her manager."
Aurora heard her name and appeared behind me. "Selena?"
She rushed forward, almost crying again. Selena hugged her tight.
"We couldn't get through your phone. Your parents are worried sick," Bianca said, scanning the room. "They're flying back from Switzerland tonight."
"I left my phone at the agency," Aurora mumbled.
"I brought you clothes," Bianca added, holding up a garment bag. "And your toiletries. Everything's blowing up. We need to think about your image—"
"Bianca," I said, cutting her off. "Can this wait?"
Selena raised an eyebrow. "Why are you here?"
"He's helping me," Aurora said softly.
Bianca narrowed her eyes like she wanted to question that, but to her credit, she didn't.
She sighed, walking in to drop the bag on the couch.
"You staying here?" Selena asked Aurora gently.
"I don't know," she said, glancing at me.
I nodded. "As long as she needs."
Later that night, after Selena and Bianca had gone, after the door had closed and Aurora was back in the guest room trying to rest, I sat on the edge of the couch again.
The glow from my laptop lit up the room.
I opened the party guest list and cross-referenced names with known PR teams and agency rosters.
Something didn't sit right.
Luis wasn't supposed to die.
But if this was accidental, then why scrub the security footage? Why leak Aurora's name so early?
And why was no one else being dragged with her?
Dozens of people were there.
So why only her?
I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustration creeping in.
I'd defended killers before. Real ones. Cold eyes. No remorse.
Aurora didn't look like that.
She looked like someone barely hanging on.
And even if i didn't owe her anything… I couldn't turn away from this.
1:00 A.M.
I heard a faint murmur. A voice.
I stood, walked down the short hallway, pausing outside the guest room.
The door was ajar.
Aurora sat cross-legged on the bed, holding her phone in one hand, tear streaks still drying on her face.
"…I didn't do anything, Sel," she whispered.
Selena. She must've called her.
"I just, everybody thinks i did. Like i'm some kind of… monster. But I didn't. I miss Luis. He was my friend. I didn't even get to say goodbye."
Her voice broke, and she pulled her knees closer.
I stepped back before she saw me.
Guilt settled low in my chest.
Whatever was happening here… whoever really killed Luis Padilla…
It wasn't her.
And i was going to prove it.
Even if it meant digging where no one wanted me to.
Even if it meant going places i'd sworn i'd never return to.