Trapped by Seven Mafia Wolves novel Chapter 74

**Chapter 74**

**Shut Out**

**Aurora’s POV**

Two hours have slipped away since I returned home from school, and the weight of anticipation hangs in the air like a thick fog. Andrei had called earlier, his voice tinged with a seriousness that piqued my curiosity; he wanted to discuss something important. Since then, I’ve been ensconced in my bed, cocooned in a fortress of pillows and oversized blankets, awaiting the summons to his office. My phone lies beside me, buzzing softly, a reminder of the outside world.

I glance down at the screen, still curled up in my little nest, feeling a strange sense of comfort in my solitude. The daylight has faded, and I hadn’t even registered the sun dipping below the horizon, lost in my thoughts.

Suddenly, a message illuminates my phone screen. It’s Mia: *hey, are u okay? u were kinda quiet when u left*. A faint smile tugs at my lips as I type back slowly with one hand, my heart warming at her concern. *Me: yeah, just tired. thank you for checking.*

Her reply comes almost immediately, brimming with enthusiasm. *Mia: ofc?? u survived day 1 of hell, we’re celebrating tomorrow. liam’s bringing muffins. it’s serious.*

I can’t help but chuckle softly, pressing my fingers to my lips to stifle the sound. Muffins, it seems, are Liam’s unique brand of therapy. More notifications pop up in quick succession, each one wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.

*Kira: jade says we’re sitting under the big oak tree tomorrow no matter what. she’s declaring it a “drama-free zone” lol*
*Liam: I baked. it’s alarming. u better show up or I wasted my domestic skills!*

I find myself staring at the screen for an extended moment, their words enveloping me in warmth, softness, and safety. A wave of emotion crashes over me, and I feel the urge to cry—not from sadness, but from the overwhelming realization that I am cared for. I whisper to the empty room, “They like me.”

It’s a thought that feels surreal. At home, I’ve learned to be quiet, to fade into the background, careful not to disturb the fragile balance of our household. I’ve mastered the art of invisibility. But at school, it seems I’m beginning to carve out a space for myself.

Just then, the front door slams shut, and the sound of heavy boots echoes through the hallway, followed by the thud of a gym bag being dropped. Nico’s home.

My heart races, and I freeze in place. I can hear his footsteps climbing the stairs, each step deliberate and heavy. I instinctively pull the blanket tighter around me, feeling a mix of fear and defiance. Something within me—perhaps foolish or perhaps brave—compels me to move toward the door.

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