Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 123575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
The door slams shut, and I’m left with nothing but the silence and my thoughts. I slide down the wall, legs giving out as the full weight of what I’ve done presses down on me.
Ten years ago, I let them lock away my brother to save myself. Now Lilian will pay the price for my cowardice. Because I kept her at arm’s length, trying to protect her from my guilt, I’ve made her vulnerable to something far worse—Arson’s calculated seduction.
And the most terrifying part? Some small, shameful part of me wonders if he’s right. If my careful distance has only pushed her toward the very danger I tried to protect her from.
I’ve never pretended to be a good man. Keeping away from Lilian might be the one decent thing I’ve done in my life, and now it will get her hurt. Fuck. I have to find a way to stop him. I clench my hands into fists and bang on the door. As expected, no one answers.
My anger only escalates, and I rush to the cot, flipping it and then the half-eaten tray of food. The contents splatter against the wall, but nothing stops the ache in my chest and the fear in my veins. I have to get out of here. I have to save that brat from herself.
Again.
Lilian
The truth can be a very ugly thing to face when you aren’t ready to do so. Shame coats my insides as I remember what I did with him. I don’t know if it’s even defensible that I thought he was Aries. It’s easier when I lie to myself and say I didn’t know the difference.
They’re identical twins, and Arson played the role of his brother so well that no one else has noticed. But I’m not that good of a liar because there was something about him from the moment I saw him at that stupid ball. Something vital and raw and changed, and a tiny part of me knew he wasn’t Aries, even if I refused to acknowledge it.
I’ve spent hours trying to wrap my head around it all. Waiting with bated breath for Arson to retaliate. He knows I was at the warehouse. There’s no way he doesn’t. Not with the cameras he has set up. No, his response—or lack thereof—is purely psychological. A guy who’s crazy enough to pretend to be his twin brother in every single way proves that.
Between checking over my shoulder every second, I’m also trying to figure out what happened between them to cause such a rift, and where the hell I’m supposed to go from here. Aries’s life hangs in the balance, and Arson has the knife, with all the capability to end things.
The image of Aries in that cell haunts me. His long hair gone, his body thinner, his face bearded, and those familiar eyes hollowed by captivity.
I wish I could’ve stayed a little longer. That I could’ve found a way to get him out of that cell. Whatever Arson’s plan is, it can’t be good. I hate how useless I feel, knowing he’s been suffering this whole time, and no one had any inkling.
I have to find a way to help him, but first, I need answers.
Who is Arson? They are obviously twins. I just hadn’t realized that the brother who was supposedly dead was Aries’s twin. How could he stand to lose him all this time? Did he know he was still alive, or did Aries think he’d died too? So many questions and precious few answers.
It’s making me crazy.
I’ve considered all the available options. Asking my mother is out. Going to the police—likewise. Even if I told the police, it would get back to my mother, and after discovering what they’ve been keeping hidden from me this whole time, I can’t trust her.
There’s no way she married their father without knowing about Arson. Something isn’t right. Everyone is keeping secrets, and I fucking hate being the last to know.
I don’t know what Arson’s motive is, but I do know that it has everything to do with Aries. And all roads point to revenge. The family’s solution to everything has always been to hide it, contain it, and pretend it doesn’t exist. I’ve seen it happen half a dozen times. Mother makes problems disappear so easily, you would think she’s a professional fixer.
If I had to guess, Arson became a problem at some point. This was before my mother married Richard. I know she worked for Hayes Pharmaceuticals when I was a child, but...that’s the only connection I can think of them having to one another.
The irony isn’t lost on me—I’ve spent years being treated as fragile, while they locked away someone they saw as dangerous. Two sides of the same coin: the invalid and the psychopath, both problems to manage.