Trapped by Seven Mafia Wolves novel Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

**Just One Step**

**Aurora’s POV**

I wrap my fingers tightly around the edges of my hoodie, drawing it closer to my body as I steal a glance back at my room. My mug sits on the desk, a silent observer, almost as if it’s keeping a vigil over my departure. A flicker of fear stirs within me at the thought of leaving it behind, but I know I must move forward.

So, I do.

With a deep breath, I swing the door open wide, allowing the air to fill my lungs. The hallway stretches out before me, vast and intimidating. It feels too big, too quiet, a stark reminder of all the moments that have echoed through these walls—doors slamming, names shouted in anger.

I push those memories aside, forcing myself not to think about Luka.

I also try to ignore the chill that lingers in the air, a remnant of my time spent outside, and the ache in my fingers that still remembers the numbness.

But here I am. Alive. Awake. Moving forward.

Just walking.

My feet guide me down the staircase, each step taken with deliberate caution. The wood creaks beneath me, each sound making my heart race as if I’m waiting for someone to shout my name. But the house remains eerily still.

I reach the bottom step and hesitate, listening intently. The faint sound of voices drifts from the kitchen—low and murmured. They’re not angry voices, nor are they filled with laughter. It’s just… conversation.

For a moment, I linger there, caught in indecision, wondering if I should retreat back to the safety of my room.

Then, an unexpected sound breaks the silence.

My stomach growls.

It’s not a fierce roar, just a soft reminder that I am still here, still human, still in need of sustenance. I can’t even recall the last time I felt hungry.

Compelled by the sound, I make my way toward the kitchen.

Inside, I spot Andrei and Jace at the table. Andrei is dressed in a neatly buttoned shirt, his focus absorbed by something on his tablet. The glow of the screen illuminates his face, making him look serious and intent.

On the other hand, Jace has one foot propped up lazily on another chair, a spoon dangling from his mouth, as if he can’t be bothered to do anything more than exist in this moment.

Their conversation halts abruptly as I enter, and I freeze in place, back straight, hands at my sides, trying to project an air of confidence even as I feel myself shrinking inside.

Jace raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Well, look who finally crawled out of her crypt,” he teases, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Andrei shoots him a warning glance, his expression sharp. “Jace.”

“What? It was just a joke,” Jace mutters, dragging the spoon out of his mouth with a lazy flick.

Andrei stands, clearing his throat as he shifts his attention to me. “Good morning,” he greets softly, his voice a soothing balm amidst the tension. “There’s tea. And toast, if you’d like something light.”

I nod, my gaze fixed on the floor, feeling the weight of his kindness. “Thank you.”

As I pour the tea, my hands tremble slightly—not from fear, but from the unfamiliarity of engaging in normalcy, as if I’m not quite sure I deserve this simple act of self-care. I place the toast into the toaster, the familiar sound of it popping up bringing a sense of comfort.

Jace leans back in his chair, yawning exaggeratedly. “Didn’t think you even ate,” he remarks bluntly, his tone casual, but the words cut deeper than he realizes.

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