Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“Secret passages?” Aries looks surprised. “I didn’t know about those.”
“That was the point,” I explain, marking several spots on my crude map. “Richard keeps a lot of secrets, even from family. Especially from the family.”
“Access points?” Arson asks, slipping effortlessly into strategic mode. “Security measures?”
“Three main entrances, all with biometric locks keyed to family members,” I say, indicating them on the drawing. “But there’s a service entrance at the back of the property that only uses a keypad. Code changes weekly.”
“Cameras changed or still the same?” Aries prompts.
“The same, but on a closed system now. If we could get to the control room in the basement, we could loop the feed.” I tap my pen against the table, thinking. “The real problem won’t be getting in—it’s getting out if things go south.”
“You won’t be going in alone,” Arson states, not a suggestion but a fact. “I’ll be with you.”
“As who?” I ask, frowning slightly. “You can’t exactly walk in as yourself.”
“As Aries,” he says simply. “I’ve been playing the role for months. I know all the right notes to hit.”
The real Aries stiffens beside me, his jaw clenching visibly. “You want to keep pretending to be me? In front of her mother?”
“Do you have a better idea?” Arson counters. “You can’t go in looking like you do now. They’d immediately know something was wrong.”
“He’s right,” I say gently, placing a hand on Aries’s arm. “She would take one look at you and know something was wrong. You’ve lost weight, you’re pale, you’re—”
“A shadow of my former self,” Aries finishes bitterly. “I get it.”
“It’s just strategy,” Arson says, his tone lacking its usual edge. “We need to maintain the illusion a little longer. Just until we figure out what they’re planning.”
Aries holds his twin’s gaze for a long moment, something unspoken passing between them. Then he nods once, a sharp downward jerk of his chin. “Fine. But you follow Lilian’s lead. No improvising, no heroics, no confrontations.”
“Agreed,” Arson says, the easy acquiescence surprising me. “In and out. Information gathering only.”
“And if something goes wrong?” I ask, the knot of anxiety in my stomach tightening. “If they try to keep me there?”
“That won’t happen,” Aries says with absolute certainty. “I’ll be nearby, monitoring. At the first sign of trouble, I’ll extract both of you.”
“How?” I press. “You can’t exactly walk in the front door.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “There are ways into that house that even Richard doesn’t know about. Benefits of a misspent youth exploring every inch of the property.”
The hint of the old Aries—the one who used to sneak me contraband candy when my diet was restricted, who found ways around every rule our parents set—makes something in my chest loosen slightly.
“Okay then,” I say, meeting their identical gazes with newfound determination. “Let’s plan this properly.”
And as we bend our heads together over the table, three conspirators united against a common enemy, I feel stronger than I have in years. Not because I’m no longer afraid—I am, terrified in fact—but because for once in my life, I’m not facing that fear alone.
I have them. Both of them. Different as night and day despite their identical faces, bound together only by their shared desire to protect me.
For now, that’s enough. More than enough.
It’s everything.
THIRTEEN
ARSON
“This is bullshit,” my brother says for the third time, pacing the length of the warehouse like a caged animal. The irony isn’t lost on me—him, free but trapped by circumstance; me, the architect of his captivity, now willingly walking back into the lion’s den.
“We’ve been over this,” I reply, adjusting the cuffs of my—his—shirt. It still feels strange to wear clothes that were made for him and tailored to his measurements. Stranger still that they fit me perfectly. “You can’t go. Not looking like that.”
He stops pacing long enough to glare at me, hatred simmering just beneath the surface. It’s the same look he’s given me since the moment he realized who I was—who he was. The brother he thought was long dead came back to destroy everything he thought was his.
“And whose fault is that?” he asks, voice tight with barely controlled rage. “Who kept me locked in a concrete box for months? Who stole my life, my identity?”
“Focus,” I snap, tired of his self-pity. “You want to protect Lilian? Then stick to the plan.”
At the mention of her name, something shifts in his expression—the anger giving way to something more complex, more vulnerable. It makes my skin crawl to see it, to recognize the same emotion I’ve been fighting against since she crashed into my carefully orchestrated revenge.
“I should be the one going with her,” he insists, raking a hand through his hair—thinner than mine now, duller, the physical evidence of his captivity that no amount of borrowed clothing could disguise. “I’m her—”