Trapped by Seven Mafia Wolves novel Chapter 54

**TITLE: Stars Refuse To Blink by Asa River Knox**

**Shopping**

**Aurora’s POV**

It’s astonishing how a simple car ride with Jace has transformed into something so utterly… ordinary.

Here we are, gliding along the road, the sun filtering through the trees and casting dappled shadows on the pavement. Jace’s left hand rests effortlessly on the steering wheel, while his right hand flits around the radio, flicking through songs as if he’s on a mission to find the perfect soundtrack for our adventure. The windows are rolled down, and a warm breeze swirls around us, playfully tangling my hair into a delightful mess. For once, I don’t mind the chaos; instead, I’m captivated by the world outside, watching the trees blur into streaks of green, my backpack hugged tightly against my chest as if it holds all my uncertainties.

“So,” he breaks the comfortable silence, stealing a quick glance in my direction, “do you have any idea what you actually need? Or are we just going to wing it?”

His question catches me off guard, and I blink, momentarily at a loss for words. “Um… notebooks. Pens. Maybe some folders?” I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.

He lets out a snort, a sound that’s equal parts amusement and disbelief. “Wow. So confident,” he teases, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“It’s my first time… you know, actually getting stuff,” I admit, my voice trailing off, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anxiety.

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of confusion crossing his face, but then he shakes it off, as if dismissing the thought completely. I can’t help but wonder if this is his way of being considerate, letting me navigate this chaotic shopping world without piling on the pressure.

As we pull into the parking lot of the store, the moment we step inside, the fluorescent lights hit me like a shockwave, almost blinding in their intensity. Instinctively, I inch closer to him—not quite touching, but just enough to feel a little more anchored, less like a lost puppy in a bustling sea of shoppers. Jace takes charge, pushing the cart with an air of confidence, tossing random items into it without a second glance at the price tags, as if money were no object.

“Do I really need that many?” I ask, staring incredulously at the bright 100-pack of highlighters he has just tossed into our cart.

“Nope. But colors are cool,” he replies with a casual shrug, as if that explanation is entirely sufficient.

I hesitate, my fingers hovering over a simple notebook on the shelf, tracing the soft cover with my thumb. It’s a lovely shade of purple—my favorite color, a secret I’ve never shared with anyone. Jace watches me for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, before he grabs three more notebooks and tosses them into the cart with a flourish.

“One for backup. One more for drawing stupid anime or whatever. And a third one for plotting evil crimes,” he declares with mock seriousness, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

I sputter in disbelief, “What evil crimes?!”

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