The Next Line ( The Lineage Series #2)

Aurora

The gala night had arrived, and with it, a storm of expectations.

This wasn't just another charity event.

It was the event.

The one where my family would be center stage, where every guest would be watching, where my performance wasn't just about dancing—it was about the Sinclair name.

About proving that I belonged here.

And that meant everything had to be perfect.

Luz had really outdone herself.

The silk gown was like something out of a dream, a perfect blend of delicacy and velvet fabricated.

Fitted at the top, it hugged my waist before flowing into an elegant skirt, the slit cutting high enough to give it an edge, but never too much.

The fabric shimmered as I moved, catching the light in a way that made it look almost alive.

It was meant for movement.

For art.

For me.

I stood in front of the full-length mirror, my breath catching slightly as the maids adjusted the final touches—pinning my hair into an intricate updo, smoothing out the last edges of my dress, ensuring that everything sat perfectly.

I barely recognized myself.

The soft click of the door opening made me turn.

My mom stepped inside, dressed in an emerald gown that Luz had also hand made custom dress that clung to her with effortless elegance.

Her Cartier diamond and emerald necklace glittered against her skin, matching the earrings that caught the candlelight.

Her hair was silk-pressed, cascading in volume curls down her back.

She looked every bit like a queen that she was.

For a moment, she just looked at me, her dark eyes filled with something warm.

And then she smiled.

"You look breathtaking, sweetheart."

I exhaled, some of the tension in my chest loosening.

"Thanks mom."

She walked toward me, taking my hands in hers.

"There's something I want to give you," she said, her voice softer now.

She pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a delicate gold heart necklace.

The air in my lungs froze.

"This," she said gently, lifting it from the box, "is the necklace your father gave me the night he told me he loved me for the first time."

My lips parted. "Mom—"

"I wanted to give it to you on your twentieth birthday," she continued, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, "because no matter what happens, I want you to always remember that you deserve a love that is strong. That is unwavering."

Her eyes searched mine, something knowing in them.

She knew.

She didn't say it.

She didn't push.

But she knew.

I swallowed hard, blinking back the sting of emotion, and nodded.

She fastened the necklace around my neck, her fingers lingering for a second.

Then, she whispered, "I love you, baby."