FAZER LOGINThe days that followed Anny's eavesdropping settled into an uneasy rhythm. The mansion, once a sanctuary, now felt like a cage with invisible bars. Every glance from Michele seemed loaded, every silence heavy with unspoken words. But Anny kept her knowledge to herself, watching and waiting, trying to piece together the puzzle of what he was hiding. The man she loved was hiding something terrible and she had no idea what to do about it.
The call came at nine-fifteen the next morning.Anny was sitting on the edge of her bed, her hands wrapped around a cup of ginger tea that she hadn't touched, her eyes fixed on the phone lying face-up on the nightstand. Adriano was beside her, his arm around her shoulders, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on her upper arm. Neither of them had slept. They had spent the night in a strange, suspended silence, trading soft reassurances and quieter fears.When the phone finally rang, Anny's heart lurched so violently she nearly dropped her tea. Adriano reached for the phone, but she stopped him."I need to hear it myself," she whispered.He nodded and withdrew his hand. She answered the call and pressed it to her
The doorbell rang at precisely 4:17 in the afternoon.Anny had been staring at the same spot on the wall for the past twenty minutes, her hands folded in her lap, her heart hammering so loudly she could hear it in her ears. The small apartment felt smaller than usual, the walls pressing in on her, the silence thick and suffocating. She had turned off all the lights except for the lamp in the corner and its soft glow cast long shadows across the room.But now, as she heard the doorbell ring again, she realized that alone was the last thing she wanted to be.She didn't move when the bell rang. She couldn't. Her legs felt like lead, her entire body frozen in a state of suspended terror.The bell rang again.
Three months.Ninety-two days since the study had shattered into a thousand pieces. Ninety-two days since the man she had loved and trusted had confessed to murder, manipulation and an obsession so dark it had nearly consumed her whole. Ninety-two days since Adriano had held her on the cold marble floor while she wept until there was nothing left inside her but a hollow, aching shell.The trial was still ongoing. It would be for months, maybe longer. Michele's legal team was formidable, the best money could buy and they were fighting every charge with a ferocity that bordered on desperation. Attempted murder. Conspiracy. Accessory to murder. The list went on, each count a fresh wound that refused to heal.Morgan, by contrast, had already pleaded guilty. She had agreed to tes
Michele's lips parted and the words that would shatter everything began to form. “You want to know why I did it? Fine. I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything."He took a step forward and the officers tensed, but Harris held up a hand. "Let him speak."Michele's eyes never left Anny's. "I was born second," he began, his voice low and bitter. "Two minutes after Adriano. Two minutes. That's all it was. But it might as well have been a lifetime. From the moment we took our first breaths, he was the golden child. The firstborn. The heir. The one everyone fawned over.""That's not true," Adriano said quietly."Shut up." Michele's voice cracked like a whip. "You don't get to talk. When we were children, everything w
The heavy oak doors of the study creaked open without warning. Anny’s heart skipped a beat as she turned, her eyes widening in shock. Michele stiffened instantly, his eyes narrowing as a muscle twitched in his jaw. The relaxed, predatory ease he had worn moments ago vanished, replaced by a coiled tension that made the air crackle.It was Adriano, standing in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim hallway light. His eyes were cold, sharp as ice and they were fixed solely on his twin brother.For a moment, no one moved. The study held its breath, the shadows lengthening across the walls as the door clicked shut behind him. He was still wearing the clothes from the holding facility, a plain grey shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow, dark trousers that had seen better days. His hair was disheveled, his jaw shadowed with
The silence that followed Harris's question stretched like a wire pulled too tight. Anny sat across from him in the dining room, her coffee cold and forgotten, her hands folded on the table to keep them from shaking."Who?" she repeated.Harris didn't answer immediately. He reached into his folder and pulled out a single photograph, a grainy image pulled from a security camera. It showed a figure in a dark coat, hood up, moving toward a parked car in the dead of night. The same figure from the store footage. The same build. The same posture."We ran the partial plate from the ridge. It matched a vehicle registered to a shell company. The same shell company that purchased the tracking device and the same shell company that the burner phone was messaging."
"Welcome home, Anny," Adriano murmured, his voice dripping with quiet arrogance as he brushed past her, the heat of his body lingering in the doorway like a taunt. His composure was infuriatingly intact, not a single hair out of place, not even a flicker of guilt in those dark, knowing eyes. Anny
Anny’s bedroom was bathed in the pale blue glow of moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. The air was thick with the scent of her arousal, a musky, sweet perfume that clung to her skin. She lay on the bed, still trembling from the aftershock
"Thank you, Adriano, you mean."A seductive husky voice tore the silent air of the kitchen and the bowl slipped from her fingers before her brain registered the fear. Strawberries scattered across the dark marble floor like drops of blood, crushing beneath her bare heel as she spun toward the doorw
The call with her mother had barely ended before Anny hurled her phone onto the dorm bed as if the device had burned her. Her mother's voice still echoed in her ears, every syllable coiling low in her belly like something sick and twisting."Let me guess," Morgan said from her desk, spinning lazily







