Conflicted emotions

Amara’s eyes twitched in realization—she had made her usual mistake again. Damon didn’t take sugar in his coffee, but Darius, his twin brother, did.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get you another one,” she apologized quickly, hearing him groan in frustration.

If there was one thing Damon hated more than pests, it was for Amara to mistake his choice of coffee for his brother’s.

“What the hell is your problem? You’ve been our personal maid since birth, yet you still can’t differentiate between my preference and Darius’s?” he spat angrily.

Amara swallowed nervously, knowing how easily Damon got angry over such matters.

“I’m sorry,” she started.

“Get out!” he yelled, and Amara quickly nodded, grabbing the coffee tray before dashing out of the room.

Once outside his room, she inhaled deeply, trying to steady her emotions before heading downstairs. Reaching the living room, she paused when she noticed the door to the drawing room was slightly ajar. Guessing who might be inside, she decided to peek in and saw Darius standing in front of a drawing board, sketching intently.

Noticing her presence, Darius turned and smiled warmly.

“Amara, come over here,” he gestured, and she obediently walked closer.

As she approached, she realized the piece he was drawing was of the Luna—his mother.

“Beautiful,” Amara complimented, and Darius nodded, his eyes moving to the coffee in her hand.

“How nice of you to get me coffee,” he said with a grin, reaching for the cup.

Before Amara could stop him—it’s for your brother—she was going to say, but it was too late. He had already taken a sip.

Darius furrowed his brow and looked up at her. “Wait, was this for my brother? Oh, it seems you’ve mixed things up again.”

He chuckled, taking another long sip of the coffee while Amara watched.

Damon and Darius were non-identical twins, and as different as their appearances were, so were their personalities and attitudes toward Amara.

Damon, whom Amara had an inexplicable crush on, was always hostile toward her. He shouted at her for every little mistake and never missed an opportunity to remind her that she was just a maid. Despite how coldly he treated her, Amara couldn’t help but feel drawn to him—a feeling she couldn’t fully understand or explain to anyone.

Darius, on the other hand, was kind and treated her as a friend. He rarely raised his voice at her and often joked about them being twins since they were born on the same day and hour. Despite his many good qualities, Darius had one flaw—his fondness for women. He was a notorious Casanova, changing girls as often as he changed his underwear, and never seemed to settle with just one.

“What are you thinking about?” Darius asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

Amara quickly shook her head. “Nothing,” she smiled at him.

Darius dropped the paintbrush, stood to his feet, and positioned himself before Amara, his presence making the small room feel even more confined.

“You know, Amara, you really should stop worrying so much about Damon. He’s always going to be… well, Damon.”

Amara forced a smile. “It’s my job to make sure he’s happy,” she argued.

Darius sighed, his expression softening. “You deserve better than this. You know you’re more than just a maid.”

His words touched her, but she knew better than to let her guard down.

“Thank you, Darius, but I know my place,” Amara said quietly.

“And what do you think your place is?” he questioned with a raised brow, while Amara gulped and looked away.

“That I’m a maid. That’s what I think I am,” she murmured.

He frowned. “Amara, you’re more than that. You are…” He paused, glancing right into her eyes—those fascinating eyes of hers that always made him speechless and nervous.

He reached out his fingers, brushing lightly against her arm, the touch electrifying.

Amara felt her breath hitch as his fingers trailed up her arm, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away.

“I see you, Amara,” he murmured, his hand moving to cup her cheek, his thumb grazing her skin in a way that made her knees go weak.

“I see you more than you realize.”

Amara’s breath quickened as she felt the heat of his gaze, the intensity of his words.

“You’re just teasing me,” she said, though she wasn’t sure she believed it herself.

Darius’s eyes darkened, his thumb now tracing her lower lip.

“Do I look like I’m teasing?” he asked, his voice husky, filled with a tension that made the small room feel even more confined.

Amara’s lips parted slightly as she tried to find a response, but all she could focus on was the way he was looking at her—the way his hand felt on her skin.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek.

“I care a lot about you, Amara. Don’t you forget that,” he told her softly, then moved away and handed the coffee back to her.

“Thank you. And please, close the door on your way out,” he said, turning away from her.

As Amara made her way toward the door, Darius called her back, and she turned to face him.

“You look beautiful today, just as always,” he said with a smirk, causing her cheeks to redden.

As she closed the door behind her, Amara couldn’t help but replay his words in her head. It would have been wonderful if Damon had said something like that to her. If he had, she knew she wouldn’t have been able to sleep that night.