The penthouse is quiet, save for the faint hum of the city outside. Dorota answers the door and immediately frowns when she sees Nate standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Dorota (softly): “Miss Aurora is upstairs. But if she asks… I didn’t see you.”

Nate nods, grateful, and slips inside. His footsteps on the stairs feel impossibly loud as he approaches her room. He hesitates—then knocks once before pushing the door open.

Aurora is curled up on her bed with a magazine, silk robe draped carelessly around her shoulders. The second her eyes land on him, her expression freezes.

Aurora: “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She sets the book down with a sharp snap. “What are you doing here, Nate?”

Nate: “I needed to see you.” Aurora: “Funny. I thought Serena already had your full attention. Or was I just a warm-up act?”

The words sting, but Nate pushes forward, desperate.

Nate: “Aurora, no. You don’t get it—I can’t stop thinking about you. That night—”

Aurora (cutting him off): “—was a mistake.” Her voice trembles just enough to betray her. “Because while you were in my bed, you were still tangled up in Serena’s. Or am I wrong?”

Nate’s jaw tightens. He steps closer, lowering his voice.

Nate: “You are wrong. Whatever people are saying—it’s gossip. You know how this world works.”

Aurora rises from the bed, arms crossed, chin lifted. Her heart is pounding, but she refuses to let him see.

Aurora: “What I know is that I don’t want to be your secret. Or worse—your distraction.”

He moves closer still, until there’s barely a breath between them.

Nate (soft, raw): “You’re not. You never were. Aurora… I could forget everything else, but not you.”