CHAPTER 348: CHAPTER 348: AURORA’S JUSTICE

Emily’s eyes widened in shock. She shook her head quickly, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"No... I do not need that. I never wanted money. I never wanted shares. I just... I just wanted justice. That is all."

Aurora reached out calmly and patted Emily’s hand again. Her touch was gentle but firm, a signal of strength. She gave her a small smile and shook her head.

"Take it, Emily," Aurora said softly.

"This is not about money. This is about recognition. This is about showing that what happened to you will not be erased or ignored. Accept it, not for wealth, but for justice."

Emily bit her lip. Her chest trembled with emotions she could not name.

Slowly, her resistance weakened. She looked down at her lap, her tears dripping onto her hands, and gave the smallest nod.

Inside, she still felt lost. Her child was gone. No shares, no money, no amount of compensation could bring her baby back. But Aurora’s words gave her a strange comfort.

This was not just money. This was a public mark of justice. The Hawthorne family had been forced to bow. The world had seen it. And that, perhaps, was something.

Aurora’s eyes softened as she looked at Emily, but when she turned back to Victor, her gaze turned sharp once again. Her calm voice carried through the hall.

"Thank you so much for your understanding, Victor."

Victor Hawthorne’s lips curved into the faintest smile, but inside his chest a fire was burning. He wanted to shout, to demand why this had been exposed in front of everyone, but he forced himself to stay quiet.

His jaw tightened, and his hand curled into a fist at his side, but he kept his composure. He was, after all, the head of the Hawthorne family. Losing his temper now would only make him look weaker.

This was not the way he wanted the matter to end. He hated that Ms. Dawn had dragged their family business into the public’s eye. Dirty laundry was not supposed to be washed out in the open.

Yet here he stood, forced to bow his head and swallow his anger.

He thought to himself that this humiliation would not last forever. If this grudge was finally settled, then perhaps Miss Dawn would stop aiming her arrows at his family. The Hawthornes had suffered enough of her vengeance already. Maybe, just maybe, she would finally leave them alone.

Holding onto that thought, Victor gave a small nod. His expression stayed stiff as stone, but he did not speak another word.

He turned his back on Aurora and Emily, not wanting to stay in their presence for another second.

The longer he remained, the greater the chance that Aurora might suddenly remember another score to settle and strike again.

So, without hesitation, he walked out of the hall. His polished shoes clicked against the marble floor, the sound echoing like the last beat of a defeated man’s pride. Isabella followed behind.

Aurora did not stop him. She had already achieved what she came for. Victor’s departure was meaningless now.

She turned her gaze back to Emily, who was still trembling with emotion. The young woman’s eyes were swollen from crying, her cheeks red from tears, yet there was a new spark inside them.

Emily wiped her cheeks quickly, took a shaky breath, and whispered, "Aurora... can I... can I talk to you in private?"

Aurora studied her for a brief moment, then gave a gentle nod. She reached for Emily’s hand, and without another word, both women left the hall together.

They soon arrived at a quiet lounge, a room Aurora had booked for herself earlier in the day. The space was calm and elegant. A soft golden light filled the room, bouncing gently off the cream-colored walls.

Plush chairs surrounded a glass table, and a pot of tea sat waiting, its steam curling lazily upward.

Aurora guided Emily to sit, then sat across from her. She folded her hands on her lap and looked at Emily with calm eyes.

"What do you want to ask me?" Aurora’s voice was steady, low, and kind.

Emily hesitated. She looked down at her fingers, twisting them nervously before speaking.

"I... I don’t understand. Why did you tell me to accept those shares from Victor Hawthorne? Was it because... You wanted to use me to take part in his company? Are you planning to acquire something through me?"

Her question was soft but filled with worry.

Aurora’s lips curved into a small smile. She shook her head slowly.

"No, Emily. That was never my plan. I have no desire to be tied to the Hawthorne family any longer. Not through shares, not through money, not through anything at all."

Emily blinked, confused. "But why?"

Aurora leaned back slightly and let out a quiet breath. Her expression turned serious, her eyes sharp with memory.

"Because the truth is simple. The Hawthornes have disgusted me many times. They tried to harm me, and they tried to harm the people I love. But I am not a woman who bows to attacks. Every time they made life difficult for me or my family, I made sure they suffered in return. They should know that their actions are not without consequence."

Emily’s lips parted. She wanted to speak but no words came.

Aurora continued, her voice calm but carrying weight.

"Victor Hawthorne understands this now. He knows I am no longer the same woman they once looked down on. I have grown, I have built myself into something greater. I am on the billionaire’s list now. If he dares to provoke me again, the storm I will bring upon his family will be far worse than anything before. He knows that, and that is why he lowered himself today. Not for kindness, not for guilt, but out of fear and survival."

Emily sat frozen, her heart racing.

Aurora leaned forward then, her eyes softening as she looked directly at Emily.

"But this is not about me. I did not tell you to accept those shares for my gain. I told you to accept them because of you. I remember what you suffered, Emily. I remember the pain you carried while I was away. How can I, knowing that, allow you to walk away empty-handed?"

Emily’s eyes shimmered with tears again.

Aurora’s tone grew sharper again, though not toward Emily.

"Think about George. You know how much he once prized those shares. He wanted them, he once held them, and now they are in your hands. Can you imagine his face when he finds out? His anger will burn inside him until even his organs hurt from holding it in. That pain he will feel, that bitterness, will finally give him a taste of the suffering he forced upon you. That, Emily, is justice."

Emily covered her mouth with her hand, stunned. Her tears rolled freely down her cheeks once again.

She could picture George’s twisted expression of rage, and for the first time, it brought her a flicker of satisfaction.

Aurora’s eyes glimmered as she added,

"And it will not end there. I will hire the best lawyer I can find. We will build the case carefully. And George... he will go to prison. Perhaps not forever, but for no less than ten years. That is the path I promise you."

At those words, Emily could no longer hold back her feelings. A sob broke from her lips as she stood and rushed forward.

She threw her arms around Aurora, hugging her tightly. Her body trembled as she whispered over and over, "Thank you... thank you... Thank you."

Aurora gently placed her hand on Emily’s back, letting her cry.

The banquet ended late at night. The guests slowly left one after another, their whispers still circling around what had happened between Aurora and the Hawthornes.

Yet Aurora herself did not care anymore. She had done what she came to do.

When she finally stepped outside, the night air was cool against her skin. She quietly went back through the hidden path that only she knew.

Inside, the room was neat and filled with a soft glow from the small lamp by her bed. Aurora kicked off her heels, sat down, and picked up her phone almost without thinking. She opened her messaging app and stared at Spencer’s name.

Her fingers typed a quick message: Hi. Are you awake?

She stared at the screen, waiting. The little typing bubble never appeared. Minutes passed, but there was no reply. Aurora sighed softly and leaned her head back against the pillow.

Scrolling through their chat history, she noticed something she had ignored before.

Spencer’s replies had grown shorter lately, almost as if he was too busy to write much. Yet, at the same time, she saw a small comfort.

Without fail, every morning he sent good morning. Every afternoon, he sent good afternoon. In the evenings, good evening. At night, good night.