Not This Time, Don Cassian Chapter 05

Not This Time, Don Cassian Chapter 05

(Third-person POV)

The party celebrating the wedding was held in the grand ballroom of the Vitelli estate.

Under the crystal chandeliers, two hundred guests raised their glasses and laughed.

Camilla, in a champagne-colored gown that barely showed her stomach, was radiant at Cassian’s side

Marcello, the Elder, raised his glass. “To Don Cassian and the beautiful Camilla! To the future of the Vitelli

family!”

“Cheers!”

Cassian raised his glass like a machine, but his eyes were scanning the crowd.

Searching for a figure with long black hair, a slender frame, always standing quietly in a corner.

She wasn’t there.

He should have been relieved. Her presence always made Camilla insecure.

So why was there this hollow ache in his chest?

“Darling, what are you looking at?” Camilla noticed he was distracted.

“Nothing,” he said, pulling his gaze back. “Just making sure everything is perfect.”

“Yes, it’s all perfect,” Camilla said, satisfied. “It’s the party I’ve always dreamed of.”

Old Giovanni, another Elder, walked over with a glass, his white hair shining. “Don, congratulations,” he said, clapping Cassian on the shoulder. “But I have to say, your family’s books have always been the best

in the business.”

He sighed wistfully. “That girl, Aurora. She’s a true blessing to the Vitelli family.”

Cassian opened his mouth.

He almost said “thank you,” and almost turned to call Aurora over.

But she wasn’t there.

He had never, not once in all these years, stood in front of his peers and said, “That was Aurora’s work”

All the praise he took for granted was bought with Aurora’s six years in the shadows

He had never let her stand in the light, not even for a single public thank you.

He crushed the thought as soon as it appeared.

“She has a talent for it,” Cassian said vaguely, clinking glasses with Giovanni and walking away

The music started.

Cassian led Camilla to the center of the dance floor.

Flashbulbs went off. All eyes were on them.

Camilla spun in his arms, her dress blooming like a flower.

This should have been the proudest moment of his life.

Power, wealth, a beautiful wife, an heir on the way.

But in that instant, another image flashed in his mind.

In six years, the Vitelli family had held countless balls. He had never once asked Aurora to dance.

Because at public family events, she was always the “low-profile adoptive sister.” She couldn’t outshine

the Don’s future wife.

That was the rule. A rule he had allowed.

Cassian’s hand trembled. He almost stepped on Camilla’s dress.

“Darling, are you okay?” Camilla looked up at him.

“I’m fine.” He held her tighter, keeping the dance going.

But his heart sank.

Because he realized, for a split second, he had mistaken Camilla for Aurora.

The party lasted until two in the morning.

After seeing off the last guest, Cassian turned to Marco the butler.

“The party was a success,” he said, trying to sound casual.

“Yes, Boss.”

“Where’s Aurora?” Cassian finally asked the question that had been hanging in the air all night “Is she alright at the villa?”

Marco’s expression was complicated.

“Boss, Miss Aurora… she left this morning.”

“Left?”

“She left Chicago. With all her luggage.”

The air went still.

“Where did she go?”

“I don’t know, Boss. She didn’t tell anyone.”

The silence stretched on. Finally, Cassian spoke, his voice calm in a way that felt forced, even to himself

“She’s just blowing off steam. She’ll be at the wedding, of course. She’s my sister. She has to be there.”

Marco looked up at him, a complex look in his eyes, but said nothing.

Back in the study, Cassian poured a whiskey.

He stood at the window, looking out over Chicago at night.

Aurora was an orphan. Where else could she go besides the Vitelli family?

The trust fund her mother left her was under his control. She couldn’t touch most of it.

She’d be back. Soon.

She’d show up at the gate late one night, dragging her suitcase, her eyes red, and she’d apologize.

And everything would go back to normal.

The thought made him feel slightly better.

He didn’t notice his fingers tapping against the glass, a nervous habit he’d had since he was eighteen. A habit that only appeared when he was truly unsettled.

In the following days, strange things started to happen.

Cassian was in his study when Antonio brought in the quarterly report for the charity foundation, prepared by Camilla.

He flipped to the first page and his brow furrowed.

The cash flow for three of the beneficiary organizations overlapped too obviously. The appraisals for a few art purchases were ridiculously high.

Any tax auditor could spot the fraud in ten minutes.

These were mistakes Aurora would never make.

She would bury every dirty dollar under three layers of legitimate paperwork. She backed every appraisal

with reports from three different firms, making them untouchable.

He instinctively looked up to yell, “Aurora!” The name died in his throat. She was gone.

He threw the report on the desk in frustration.

At eleven that night, he walked into the study as usual.

No, he told himself.

Aurora leaving was for the best.

No more of her worshipful eyes following his every move. No more of Camilla’s constant complaints.

Life was simpler now. Cleaner.

He repeated the lie to himself until the bottle of whiskey was empty.