"You'll smile for no reason, and I’ll have children everywhere,” Angelo went on dramatically. "You'll do stupid, unremarkable things for this soulmate that doesn’t exist. And I’ll carry on Father’s legacy."
I stood. Angelo started laughing.
And somehow… That laugh still existed perfectly inside my head. Clear as crystal. Four years later. Like he'd never left. Like he was still here. Like if I turned around fast enough, I'd find him sitting on the couch. Boots on my furniture. Whiskey in his hand. Being annoying. Being alive.
The memory shattered. Reality rushed back. The office. The ocean. The silence. The emptiness. I opened my eyes. And the room felt too big. Too quiet. Too empty. Because Angelo wasn't on the couch. Hadn't been for four years. Would never be again.
My throat tightened. I looked down at the watch. The one they'd returned to me in a plastic evidence bag. Covered in blood. His blood. I remembered sitting alone afterward. Holding it. Staring at it. Trying to understand how a man could exist one day and disappear the next.
How a twin was supposed to keep breathing when half of him was gone.
The answer turned out to be simple. You didn't. Not really. You just kept moving. Existing. Pretending. Until one day you woke up and realized years had passed. And nothing mattered.
Not money. Not women. Not power. Nothing.
Then a stubborn girl walked into your club. Ordered lemonade. Called you a serial killer. Insulted your face. Held your hand. Looked at your watch. And somehow made you feel something again. The realization hit harder than it should have.
Because that was the truth, wasn't it? Aurora wasn't replacing Angelo. Nobody could. Nobody ever would. She wasn't fixing me. Wasn't saving me. Wasn't healing anything. She'd simplydone something nobody else had managed in four years. She made me care.
And that was infinitely more dangerous.
I looked toward the guest house. Toward the light glowing through the glass. Toward the girl pacing inside it. The girl currently planning my murder. The girl who hated me. The girl I'd started a war for. A slow smile pulled at my mouth.
"You would've hated her, Angelo."
The words slipped out before I could stop them. Silence answered. The ocean crashed below the cliffs. Wind rattled the windows. I laughed quietly.
"Well, maybe." I shook my head. A familiar certainty settled in my chest. "Or maybe you’d try to steal her."
For one impossible second, I could almost hear Angelo laughing.
For a long moment, I stood alone in the office. Listening. The ocean. The wind. The distant movement of men preparing for war. And beneath it all…
The faint hum of the guest house security system. A small light glowed across the estate. Aurora. Still awake. Of course she was. I checked the time. Almost midnight. The smart thing would be to leave her alone. The logical thing would be to leave her alone. Thesanething would be to leave her alone.
Unfortunately, I had already established that sanity was no longer part of this equation.
I grabbed the whiskey. Took one sip. Then abandoned the glass on my desk. And headed for the door.
The night air hit my face the second I stepped outside. Cold. Salt-heavy. The ocean below the cliffs churned violently beneath the moonlight. A storm was rolling in. I could smell it. Rain. Electricity. Danger.
The estate lights illuminated the pathways winding through the gardens. White stone. Dark hedges. Silver fountains.Everything looked peaceful. Which was ironic. Because every man on the property currently had a weapon within reach.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and started walking. Toward the guest house. Toward the mistake I'd willingly made. Toward the woman currently ruining my life.
The glass structure glowed ahead. Warm golden light spilling across the grass. Beautiful. Fragile. Dangerous. Just like the woman inside it.
As I got closer, I slowed. Then stopped. Because Aurora wasn't sleeping. She wasn't pacing either. She sat curled up on the enormous white couch. Bare feet tucked beneath her. The ruined wedding dress pooled around her like a broken cloud. Her chin rested on her knees. She was staring out at the ocean. Completely motionless.
She looked lonely. Not angry. Not furious. Not murderous. Just alone. A strange ache settled in my chest. I hated it. I preferred angry. Angry meant she was fighting. Angry meant she was still herself. This version felt too small. Too quiet. Too vulnerable.
I reached the door. Entered the code. The lock disengaged. The sound echoed through the house.
Aurora's head snapped around. The transformation was immediate. The softness vanished. The vulnerability disappeared. Fire exploded behind her eyes. There she was. My little trouble maker.
"What do you want?"
Not hello. Not why are you here. Straight to violence. I smiled. "A warm welcome would've been nice."
