Peonies

A few days later, the mansion stood quiet under the midday sun, its tall, elegant facade casting long shadows over the manicured garden.

Hades walked confidently up the stone path, peonies in hand, his expression one of determination and charm.

He wore a tailored suit, his brown hair neatly combed, and a smile curved on his lips.

The flowers—Aurora's favourite—were vibrant in his hands, their delicate scent rising in the soft breeze.

He rang the doorbell and waited, anticipating the moment he would see Aurora's face. But when the door opened, it wasn't Aurora who greeted him.

It was Sophia.

Hades's smile faltered, his brow knitting together in confusion. His sources had been clear—Aurora owned this mansion. So why was Sophia here?

Sophia's eyes flicked down to the flowers, and something unreadable passed over her face. Her left and right palms were wrapped in bandages, but Hades barely noticed.

For a moment, they stood in silence before Sophia spoke, her voice low and neutral. "Those for Aurora?"

Hades nodded, recovering from his surprise. "Yes, they are."

Sophia stepped aside, letting him in, though her gaze lingered on the peonies.

Hades breezed past her without a second glance, his mind already on Aurora. He didn't care why Sophia was there or why her hand was wrapped; all that mattered was seeing Aurora.

He barely registered the sound of the door closing behind him when Aurora appeared at the top of the staircase, her steps graceful as she descended.

The sight of her brought his smile back, and as she reached the bottom, he stepped forward, extending the flowers.

"For you," he said, his voice softening.

Aurora smiled, taking the bouquet from him. "Thank you, Hades. They're beautiful."

She held them delicately, her expression warm. Hades searched her face for something more, but her attention was quickly drawn by Ava, who stepped into the room.

Hades didn't stay long.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, he left, satisfied for now.

As he walked away from the mansion, he didn't notice Ava taking the flowers from Aurora and carrying them upstairs.

---

Later that evening, the house was alive with movement. Aurora had left for a photo shoot with Ava as her assistant, while Sophia had gone off to chase her next story.

It wasn't until the moon hung low in the sky that they returned to the mansion, tired but content.

Aurora headed straight for her bedroom, her body heavy with exhaustion.

As she opened the door, she noticed the peonies on her bedside table, their sweet fragrance filling the room.

She approached the bouquet, smiling at the thought of Hades's gesture, but as she leaned in to take a sniff, her stomach churned unexpectedly.

A wave of nausea hit her, strong and sudden.

Frowning, she stepped back, staring at the flowers as if they were the cause.

Unable to shake the feeling, Aurora carefully moved the bouquet to the far end of the room, hoping that would help.

But the scent lingered, clinging to the air and making her stomach twist again.

She sighed, knowing she wouldn't be able to rest with the flowers nearby.

Her thoughts flickered to Sophia.

A memory surfaced—Sophia had once mentioned her love for peonies, though Hades surely hadn't known that.

Maybe giving the flowers to Sophia would be a better use for them.

Downstairs, Sophia sat at the kitchen table, her laptop glowing faintly as she typed furiously, her bandaged palms resting beside the keyboard after a few minutes.

Aurora entered quietly, the bouquet in her hands.

Sophia glanced up, her brows rising. "What's up?"

Aurora approached, holding out the flowers with a small, sheepish smile. "Here. I was going to throw these out, but I remembered you like them."

Sophia stared at the bouquet, her expression unreadable. "Hades gave them to you, right? Why are you giving them to me?"

"They... they make me feel nauseous," Aurora admitted, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "You can have them if you want."

Sophia's eyes narrowed slightly. "So, you're giving me Hades's gift?"

Aurora sighed, setting the flowers on the table between them. "Look, I don't need them. They're just sitting in my room making me sick. You like them. Just take them."

Sophia hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of the bouquet.

After a long moment, she nodded, her lips pressing into a tight line. "Fine. I'll take them."

Aurora smiled, grateful that Sophia had accepted, and without another word, she turned and headed back upstairs.

As she disappeared from view, Sophia reached out, pulling the bouquet closer.

The flowers smelled wonderful to her, and she couldn't help but feel a strange tug at her heart.

She picked them up and carried them to her room, setting them on her bedside table.

Her thoughts drifted back to the moment Hades had walked through the door, the way he had barely acknowledged her.

She knew he hadn't brought the flowers for her, yet the irony stung—her favourite flowers, given so carelessly to someone else.

---

Miles away, Hades sat in a dimly lit room, the only light coming from the laptop screen in front of him.

His men had already connected the camera hidden within the peonies, and now he watched as the feed flickered to life.

A smirk played at the corners of his lips.

Soon, he would have a direct line into Aurora's life, a way to understand her better, to see her interactions, and to find out more about her connection to Lucas.

His plan was falling into place.

But as the image on the screen sharpened, his smirk vanished.

It wasn't Aurora he saw.

It was Sophia.

She was sitting on her bed, the bouquet of peonies sitting beside her.

His eyes narrowed in confusion, his heart sinking slightly.

What the hell was she doing with the flowers?

He leaned forward, scrutinizing the screen.

Did Aurora not like them? Why had she given them to Sophia?

His frustration grew, his fingers tightening around the edge of the laptop.

This wasn't the plan. He needed to watch Aurora, not Sophia.

The image on the screen shifted as Sophia reached out, adjusting the flowers on her bedside table.

Hades watched in silence, his mind racing.

This complication was unexpected. And annoying.