What Have You Done With My Twin?

Alora's Pov

Lucien didn’t sit. He circles his desk like a shark deciding if I was worth the bite. Seeing my name, Alora, on that folder made my stomach do a backflip.

“How long,” he repeats, “were you planning to play dress-up as your sister?”

“I wasn’t pretending,” I snap, my voice betraying me with a tiny quiver. “Leyla was busy. I filled in.”

"She was invited. You weren't.” He drifts to the window, looking over the city with his hands in his pockets. “But you didn’t correct the secretary. You didn't even blink when I caught you.

My pulse kicks hard as he turns back to me.

“When I saw George’s file, and recognized the family which he came from, I stopped wondering if you’d appear.”

I have nothing to say. Everything I had planned in my head evaporates. He always had this way of crumbling me. His gaze settles on me.

“I started to wonder how long you’d last before you came.”

The room suddenly feels like it's shrinking.

"Why are you here, Lo?"

Hearing that nickname, the one only he used, sends a chill down my spine.

"What's your game here?" he asks.

Bastard. That's my line.

I lift my chin and steady my breathing. "I’m looking out for my sister. I won’t let her walk into a marriage with a man like you."

He chuckles, stepping so close I can smell his expensive cologne; the same scent that used to linger on my skin nine years ago. “A man like me? You used to be quite fond of 'a man like me' when we were seventeen.”

“People change,” I whisper.

“Not the way you taste, I’d bet.” He leans down, his breath warm against my ear. “You want freedom for your brother. I need a bride. You never mentioned your twin was so... compliant. She might have been a better fit for my lifestyle.”

"Don't you dare," I hiss, pushing him back. "You want a bride? Fine. Let’s talk business."

He opens the folder, letting the silence scream for a few seconds. “Your brother has a hearing tomorrow morning.”

My stomach drops. “Can it be postponed?”

“Maybe. I’m not the judge.” He shrugs like he was talking about the weather.

I scoff. “Oh, please. You are the judge, the jury, and the executioner in this town.”

“Even better,” he murmurs. “Closed hearing. No jury. It’s done.” He looks up, his eyes dark. “You shouldn't be here, Lo. Your sister has patience. You... you always did have a problem with waiting.” He let his gaze drop to my mouth. “Remember that night behind the mess hall? You couldn't even wait for me to get your shirt off.”

Trust Lucien to weaponize my own memories against me. My throat tightens. “Fine. What do you want?”

“I wanted to see which of you would show up,” he says, closing the folder with a definitive thud. “And now I know. Leyla will endure. But you? You’ll fight. You always were more fun when you were fighting me.”

He leans over the desk, pinning me with his eyes. “I want you as my bride. If you’ll have me. Again.”

My anger flares. “You let me wait for two hours! You let your staff insult me!”

“Yes.”

“You watched the whole thing!”

“Yes.”

His honesty was more annoying than a lie would have been. “Why?”

“I needed to see if the girl I knew was still in there. And honestly? You’ve gotten meaner. I like it." He sits back and points to a chair. “Sit.”

I do. He lays out the terms: Two years. Public marriage. Private discretion.

“And privately?” I ask.

“In private, let’s just say we’ll pick up where we left off. Minus the summer camp curfew.”

I keep my face like stone. “Define that.”

A moment passes.

His mouth curves. “You used to be more adventurous, Lo. Don't tell me you've turned boring. You’re cautious today.”

“Lucien...”

"Mr. Vale," he corrects.

I roll my eyes. “Whatever., Mr. Vale.”

He stands and stops right beside my chair. He doesn’t touch me, but I can feel the heat. “This works because you don’t break contracts, Alora.”

I look up. “I’m thinking about breaking this one.”

“Careful.” He exhales, stepping back. “Fine. Tomorrow, you’ll attend a charity gala with me. Appearances matter. We sign after that.”

I stand and bolts for the door before he can say anything else. “If that’s all."

Just as I reached for the handle, he calls out.

“Ask Leyla how I like my woman. Ughhhh! She’s better at the little details than you were.” He actually winks.

*****

My legs don’t stop shaking until I’m in a taxi. My destination? The Cresswell Club.

The bass hit me before the door opens. Sweat, cheap perfume, and grinding bodies. This is Leyla’s world. I find her in the dressing room, wiping off her lipstick.

“Hey, sis. Pease tell me it went well,” she says, not looking at me.

“Did you sleep with him?” I ask, skipping the pleasantries.

She freeze. “Well... it... it helped George.”

"How many times, Leyla?”

She drops the wipe. “He fixed a hearing for George tomorrow. And it's better.”

“What other hearing? George already has one. He did nothing.” I close my eyes as fury surges through me.

“Tomorrow morning.” She keeps her eyes on the mirror. “Closed. No jury.”

“You slept with him for a hearing?” My voice rise with the music outside.

“I didn’t just let him, Alora,” Leyla snaps, spinning around. Her eyes red-rimmed, her makeup smearing. “I did what I had to do. While you were playing 'memory lane' in his office, I was making sure George didn't wake up in a cage tomorrow.”

I sit before I realize I've given in.

“He didn’t threaten me,” she continues quietly. “I wanted to.”

I don’t interrupt.

“He asked questions. About us. Mostly about you.” Her mouth tightens. “Questions he already had answers to.”

My stomach twists. “What did he say about me?”

Leyla hesitates. I already know it’s bad.

“He said you wouldn’t wait. That you’d come yourself eventually. And if you did, he’d want you instead.”

My heart kicks once, hard.

“And you?”

“I understand compromise,” she says. “It’s nothing.”

That word again. She doesn’t dress it up.

“Besides, he was careful with me,” she adds, her voice cracking. “He didn’t force himself on me.”

“That wasn't mercy,” I bark. “That was a down payment.”

Silence stretches between us. The truth settles like lead.

“So this was his plan all along,” I say, the realization feeling like ice water in my veins. “He used you to get to me. He knew if he broke you, I’d come running to pick up the pieces.”

“Yes.” She swallows. “He knew you wouldn’t walk away. He wanted to see which one of us he’d get.”

“And you knew all this? You didn't tell me?”

“Because you would have blown it!”

She's right. I would have burned the building down. “Do you hate me?” she asks.

“No, but I can’t stand you right now.”

“I can live with that.”

I turn to leave, but her voice stops me at the door.

“Alora. When you sign that contract, you’ll be the wife. Wear the ring, drive the cars, I won’t judge or fight you on that.” She pauses, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror, colder now. “But don't you dare judge me. Because when he's bored of your 'fighting' and your pride... he's going to come looking for the sister who didn't say no. I’ll always be his mistress. Live with it.”

My mouth opens as I stare at her, my heart shattering. This isn't the sister I grew up with. My twin. My other half. Is gone. This is a stranger shaped by Lucien Vale's cruelty.

Lucien didn't want a wife. He wanted a trophy he could break and a backup he could use. And Leyla had just handed him the keys to both.

“You’re choosing him,” I whisper.

“No,” she says, her voice turning stone-cold as she turns back to the mirror. “I’m choosing George. Now get out. You have a gala to prepare for.”

I step back into the noise of the club, the night swallowing me whole. Something between us had cracked, and for the first time in our lives, I didn't think we could fix it.