Chapter Four

~Stefan~

Avoiding my wife like she carries a plague isn't how I pictured married life.

But I married the wrong twin.

So I keep my distance—a fugitive in my own damn house. Work has become a solace, and I stay late to be sure Charlotte has gone to bed so I don't have to look at her and deceive myself into thinking she's Scarlett.

That kiss hasn't left my head, and I don't want to think about it. I don't know what that was, but sometimes my mind drifts off, and I remember the feel of her lips on mine, kissing me with so much emotion, and her warm hand on my face.

Judy continues to joke about it and test my patience. The idiot is nowhere close to finding Scarlett, whose letter haunts me—three years of a relationship vanished with her

This gala was supposed to distract me. I was so looking forward to it that even my mother's sharp glares couldn't ruin my mood.

Until I danced with Charlotte, she copied Scarlett so perfectly that I got confused for a moment. Her shadow could mimick her sister’s light and I hate what it does to me.

Why must she be an identical twin of the woman I loved?

Why does she smell so damn good?

And why, for the love of God, have I not been able to forget our kiss?

“I see you're getting cozy with the wife.” Judy finds me at the bar, his tone teasing and irritating.

“People were watching.” The dance with her has rattled me far more than I'll ever admit. I want to gather myself with a stiff drink, not be reminded of how her skin felt under my palm.

“I'm not in the mood, Judy.”

“You're never in the mood these days. You should get fucked, ease your stress.”

I glare at him, mere seconds from punching him in the face.

“Can't take a fucking joke,” Judy mutters, sitting next to me, signaling the bartender to pour him scotch. His teasing grin fades as he slips a folded envelope into my hand. “Open it later.”

I lift a questioning brow, and he whispers one name.

“Ivan.”

Anger floods my veins immediately. I frown.

“That motherfucker has been buying off the opposition,” he explains, his voice low. “Rumour has it he's coming for you.”

I clench my jaw and pocket the envelope. “Ivan must be insane if he thinks I'll back down from the race because he throws money in my face. My father built his name.”

“Just watch out for the bastard and be civil,” Judy adds. “Also, I have a lead on Scarlett. A friend who says she saw her down in the subway around the time she disappeared. I'm talking to her later tonight.”

I down the rest of my drink, a bitter feeling building in my chest. “Keep me posted.”

My gaze scans the crowd and falls on Charlotte. Her beauty radiating like a fucking beacon. She looks bored out of her mind, sipping champagne, barely listening to whatever the women beside her are saying.

“Take her home.”

Judy nods. “And you?”

“I still have things to discuss with Mayor Reginald.”

“I'll have Jerry stay with you.” He pulls out his phone, dials, and barks out when the person on the other end answers.

“Hey Edgar, tell Mrs. Reimann to meet me at the bar and bring the car around.”

I shake my head at him. “She's right there, Judy.”

He scoffs. “I wanna finish my fucking scotch man.”

I slide off the seat as Charlotte approaches the bar, looking relieved.

“Don't you wanna kiss your wife goodbye?” Judy pouts.

“You'll soon kiss my fist. Keep talking, idiot.” I turn on my heels, walking away as she arrives.

“I've been ordered to take your home, Mrs. Reimann.” I hear Judy say with a dramatic voice.

I roll my eyes. I don't know how I've put up with him for so long.

I quickly scan the thinning crowd and find the Mayor talking with a small group.

I make a beeline for them when a voice from behind stops me.

“Charlotte? Is that you?”

My head swivels in a second to a strange sight. The bartender is leaning over the counter, staring at my wife.

And he called her Charlotte.

Vaguely, I remember Judy telling me about her on-and-off relationship with a bartender.

My fists clench at my sides. Of all the places for Charlotte to run into her bartender ex!

“Oh no. Charlotte is my sister, I'm Scarlett.” She sounds too polite for my liking, then I catch her expression, and my frown deepens.

That scared look she wore as she walked down the aisle.

“Are you sure?” The man insists. “I could swear you look like Charlotte.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I hiss under my breath changing directions in a breath.

“They're identical twins, man,” Judy interjects, like the bartender is stupid.

But the man doesn't relent. He moves his head to the side regarding her, and his mouth presses into a thin line as if he disagrees.

“Your eyes. I don't think I'll ever forget—”

I reach them and slip my hand around Charlotte's waist. “Is there a problem, honey?” She stiffens at my touch, but my eyes are locked on the bartender, giving him a deadly stare. “Are you bothering my wife?”

The man pushes back, unnerved by my gaze. “No, sir. I thought she was someone else. My mistake.”

“Good.” I steer Charlotte away from the bar, and she says nothing, but I feel her relax a fraction.

Judy trails behind us as we leave the venue. He rushes to open the car door for Charlotte, and she gets in.

“I'll take her—”

“No.” I stop Judy with a hand on his chest when he tries to follow her. “I'll take her home. Take care of the bartender. I don't want him causing problems.”

“Aren't you speaking with the mayor?”

“I’ll schedule a meeting tomorrow.”

Judy glances from inside the car to my face—something flickering in his eyes for a split second before vanishing.

“Okay, boss.” He backs away, flashing me a stupid grin before stalking back inside.

By the time we return to the penthouse, I'm angry for reasons I can't pinpoint.

Her silence further infuriates me.

“Do you know him?” I ask. I know she does. I read the fucking dossier but I want her to say something.

She doesn’t turn around. “Yes.”

“And?” I press through my teeth.

“And we dated for a bit.” She slips off her heels, continuing on her way to her room.

“A bit? The fool could tell you apart from your sister. You have to do better than that.”

A soft sigh, and she shrugs. “I've known Sebastian for a long time before we dated.”

Somehow, that makes me angrier. I grab her arm, forcing her to stop and look at me.

There's something she's not telling me, and I hate not knowing.

“Do you love Sebastian?” I spit his name.

Her brows furrow. “I don't see how that's your problem, Stefan. I'm married to you. I don't know what you want to hear.”

I catch the shift in her tone and step closer. My jaw clenching with rage.

“I want to hear the truth. That guy almost ruined everything tonight. Who’s he to you?”

She swallows, her eyes shifting with hidden secrets. Those eyes that remind me of my Scarlett.

“He's a friend…whom I loved.”

My eyes narrow, my grip tightening. Hearing the word love from her mouth blinds me with rage.

I open my mouth, ready to spew my anger, only to be cut off by the loud penthouse security alarm blaring.

She jumps. “What was that?”

Something had triggered the alarm.

“Stay here,” I say, already moving, my body tense and alert.

When I reach the living room, Edgar is already there, gun drawn, eyes wide and searching. The front door is open from where he stormed in.

“Nothing from the front. I'm thinking the roof.”

I freeze. “The roof?” Who in the fuck would try to break in from the roof?

“I'll take care of it,” Edgar says.

“I'm coming with you.”

“Sir, I think you should stay here.”

“I taught you how to fight, Edgar. Give me a fucking gun!”