Rebirth: A Second chance at life-Chapter 69: Shouldn’t Lily be an actress?

Lily put on a dramatic act, stepping forward with trembling hands. "Please," she begged, voice quivering as she looked at Calvert. "Take me instead. Let my daughter go."

Her eyes shimmered with tears as if the thought of Aurora suffering in her place was too much to bear.

Veronica, meanwhile, began sobbing pitifully, grabbing onto her mother’s sleeve. "No, Mom, please don’t do this... you can’t!" she cried out, her voice cracking just enough to sound real.

"He only wants to talk to Aurora. They’re old acquaintances, that’s all."

Calvert leaned back in his chair, amused. He studied Lily’s display with lazy eyes before a knowing smirk tugged at his lips.

"Hmph. Looks to me like Lily doesn’t really want to leave," he drawled, his tone oozing with sarcasm.

At his words, Lily flinched. Her lips trembled, and she let out a shaky breath as if she were being torn apart inside.

"I... I just don’t want her to suffer," she whispered hoarsely, before dramatically collapsing to the floor.

Veronica gasped, instantly crouching beside her. "Mom! Mom!" she cried, checking her pulse with trembling hands.

Then, in one swift motion, she helped shoulder Lily up and led her out of the mansion, her sobs echoing faintly behind her.

Alexander, who had been watching everything silently, furrowed his brows. His deep brown eyes flicked to Aurora—still limp, unable to move a muscle, yet her gaze was sharp and alive.

She was watching everything.

There was mockery in her eyes.

Alexander’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening as he stared at Aurora.

He had expected something—anything—other than this silence. A flicker of fear, a plea for mercy, or even just a crack in that calm exterior.

But there was nothing. No fear in her eyes. No desperation in her body language. Only...mockery.

She looked at him like he was beneath her. Like he was the fool in this room.

It unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.

He scoffed inwardly, masking his discomfort behind a cold, unreadable face.

That gaze—quiet, sharp, and full of judgment—burned into his skin. It wasn’t the look of a frightened woman.

It was the look of someone who saw through him. Someone who knew exactly what he’d done, and didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting.

Without another word, he turned to Calvert.

"I’ve done my part of the deal," he said flatly, his voice devoid of emotion. "But keep her alive," Alexander added.

He didn’t look at Aurora again. He didn’t need to. Her silence had said enough.

He raised his hand and motioned to his men.

The guards, rough and expressionless, dropped Aurora onto the plush sofa like she was nothing more than baggage.

Without a second glance, they turned their backs and followed Alexander out, their heavy boots thudding against the marble floor.

Her body hit the cushions with a soft thud, motionless from the lingering effects of the drug, but her eyes never left Alexander.

He could feel them even as he turned away.

His steps were sharp as he exited the room, flanked by his men. No one looked back. It was done.

But as the heavy wooden doors shut behind him, his mind didn’t quiet.

At first, Alexander hadn’t planned to leave Aurora behind. His initial plan was clear—bring Aurora to bait Calvert and take Lily back.

That was it. Simple. Clean. No extra complications.

He had even taken extra precautions.

A large number of his men were secretly positioned around Calvert’s mansion, hidden behind trees, camouflaged in vehicles, ready to act if anything went south.

He knew exactly what kind of man Calvert was. That greedy glint in his eyes, the twisted smile tugging at his lips—Alexander saw it all.

Calvert was a snake, dangerous and unpredictable. And the way he looked at Aurora just now... it made Alexander’s stomach churn, though he’d never admit it.

He knew a dirty plan was already forming in that sick mind of his.

But Aurora... she was not supposed to behave this way.

She was supposed to cry. To scream. To break down and drop the façade of strength she’d been wearing. But none of that happened.

She didn’t shed a tear. She didn’t beg. She didn’t even flinch. Aurora just lay there, still and calm, her eyes cold and filled with something that made even Alexander feel uneasy.

Instead, she stood her ground—even paralyzed. Her eyes held fire. Confidence. Sarcasm.

Almost like she knew she was untouchable.

It threw him off. Completely.

All those rumors about Aurora having ties with dangerous people, about her being involved with Calvert in the past—he had dismissed them as nonsense.

Aurora had always been weak, timid, and foolish. Not someone capable of playing dangerous games.

But the way she looked at him today... it didn’t match the girl he knew.

And that rattled him.

"She needs to learn her place," he told himself, trying to justify what he’d just done.

He believed, righteously, that he had no choice. Her boldness, her attitude—it had gone too far.

Maybe after today, she’d remember who held the power. Maybe then she would return to being the quiet, obedient girl she was supposed to be.

And yet, no matter how many times he repeated those words in his head, a tiny voice kept whispering—maybe, just maybe, she didn’t deserve to be treated like this.

Maybe he was making a grave mistake. But he pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

After they left, Calvert turned to look at Aurora, and his gaze shifted—twisting into something dark, something vile.

A slow, ugly smile crept onto his face. His eyes roamed her body shamelessly, and he couldn’t stop himself from licking his lips, as if already tasting the fantasy he had dreamed of for so long.

The girl everyone mocked and pushed aside was now in his den, tied up with no one to save her.

He waved his hand at his men. "Take her to the special room," he ordered.