Elsa is seated beside him, her body language the complete opposite of her husband’s. She smiles and offers me a tentative wave that I return awkwardly.

On Jonathan’s left sits a blond-haired man with piercing blue eyes — or rather, blue-grey. Levi King. Jonathan’s only nephew.

I know he’s a professional football player for Arsenal, and I’ve seen pictures of him before, but he’s more striking in person. His physique appears harder and taller than Aiden’s. Despite his blond look that differs from the other King men, Levi has the same straight nose and an intense gaze that’s meant to cut.

He now watches me as if I’m a ghost coming after his life. “Fuck me. She does look like Alicia. Are you sure she’s not her, Uncle?”

“Levi.” A petite woman with long brown hair and jade green eyes holds on to his bicep and shakes her head. Astrid Clifford. Levi’s wife and Lord Henry Clifford’s daughter.

The digging around I did before going to Aiden’s wedding is sure coming in handy. At least I’m not hit out of the blue by people I don’t recognise.

Levi’s expression immediately softens as he grins down at her. “I’m just saying it how I see it, Princess.”

“Levi,” Jonathan warns in his non-negotiable tone. “Change seats.”

“This is where I always sit,” he argues. “Why don’t you tell Aiden to change his seat?”

His younger cousin throws him a glare. “That won’t be happening.”

“It’s okay.” I flop on the chair at the other end of the table. I realise that I’m far away from the others, but that’s probably the type of distance I need.

From the slight narrow in Jonathan’s eyes, I can tell he doesn’t like it, but he must also see that there’s no point in pressing the matter further. Especially with his family as company.

Jonathan’s family.

The notion strikes me like thunder. I didn’t sign up for this when I agreed to that deal. It was supposed to be only about him and I and sex. Now, there are family members and everything is complicated.

Silence falls on the dining table for a second too long to the point I start touching my neck, then my watch. I drop my hand when Jonathan stares at me across the table.

He said it before. That showing my tells is a sure way to have my weaknesses exploited.

I wish I was more natural at this sealing emotions thing like he is. It’s one of the traits that I admire yet loathe the most about him.

His confidence and the way he flips the world the finger while ruling it is a trait only the top of the top possess.

However, being unable to read him, let alone figure him out, is no fun at all.

Margot and Tom wheel in trays of food, cutting through the silence. Levi grins at Margot and even Aiden directs a smile her way. She returns their welcoming expressions with one of her own.

Whoa. So she can smile. She just never shows it to me.

By the time she reaches me, her face has turned back to its blank professionalism. After she serves the soup and the main course, which seems like an exotic type of meatloaf, she and Tom nod, then leave.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us, Uncle?” Levi ignores the soup and goes straight for the meat.

“Aurora,” Jonathan speaks. “This is my nephew, Levi. That’s his wife, Astrid. You already met Aiden and Elsa.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Elsa told me so much about you.” Astrid grins, and I notice she’s wearing jean overalls that make her appear way younger than what I think her age is.

I’m about to take a spoonful of my soup, but I set it back down at her words. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“I have a question.” Levi pauses with a forkful of meat halfway to his mouth. “How come we never knew you existed?”

“Because she didn’t,” Aiden says without lifting his head from his plate. “She’s a ghost. Or more like a parasite now.”

“What did I say about respecting my guests when at my table?” Jonathan’s lethal voice cuts through the hall like doom. “If you don’t like to be here, off you go.”

“And leave her to do whatever she wants?”

“Aiden.” Elsa glares at her husband. Despite Aiden’s frightening expression, she’s not the least bit fazed. “You told me you’d play nice.”

“I don’t play nice, sweetheart. Especially with imposters.”

“I’m not an imposter,” I say calmly, even though something inside me burns.

“Is that why you came into my mother’s house and decided you’d make it yours?”

“I have no intention of taking anything of Alicia’s.”

“Don’t say her name.” Aiden’s left eye twitches. “You have no right to say her name when you didn’t come to her fucking funeral.”

“I didn’t go to her funeral because I was being detained in a police station in Leeds.” My voice chokes. “I reported my father for murder.”

The silence that overtakes the dining table now is more due to surprise instead of awkwardness.

It’s the first time I’ve divulged that information willingly, but Aiden needs to know that much about my life. He needs to know that abandoning him that young, despite my bond with Alicia, wasn’t a choice I took lightly.

Jonathan stares at me across the table and I expect disapproval, or perhaps surprise. Instead, his lips curl into a smile. A genuine one.

A proud one.

Wait. He’s proud of me?

Wasn’t he the one who said I wouldn’t tell Aiden anything? He should be surprised that I did talk. Or was that entire speech a manipulation plot to push me to speak?

Whatever it is, the expression on Jonathan’s face encourages me to keep talking.

“I was sixteen at the time, a minor. Since I had no relatives, aside from my father and Alicia, I was taken to a safe house. I couldn’t attend Alicia’s funeral, even if I wanted to.”

“I’m sorry.” Astrid’s eyes fill with deep sympathy. “Mum died when I was fifteen. It would’ve killed me if I hadn’t attended her funeral.”

My lips tremble, but I rein in the tears. All I think about is the nights I spent in that safe house. The fear. The guilt for ratting my dad out. The thoughts of what if I made a mistake. But most of all, I was hit by the grief of losing Alicia and the inability to even say goodbye.

In a way, I still haven’t.

“What happened afterwards?” Levi is the first who goes back to eating.

“Statements and trials.” I release a breath. “Lots of trials.”

“How long did that take?” Aiden asks. “Weeks? Months? It couldn’t have possibly been eleven years, right?”

Elsa pins him down with a glare again, but his attention stays firmly on me.

“Due to the nature of the crimes my father committed, I had to be admitted into the Witness Protection Program.”

This time, Jonathan is the one who narrows his eyes on me. He couldn’t possibly know that I escaped the program the moment I could. After that, I didn’t let them write my story for me. I went back to the cottage and wrote my new beginning with my own bare hands.

“You have an answer for everything. Brilliant.” Aiden goes back to eating.