Chapter 3

Sareena

Yesterday started like any other day. I woke up, pulled on my running gear, and tiptoed into the kitchen to make coffee for me and Kathy. The moment the aroma hit the air; she’d wake up and start on her famous French toast. It was our unspoken morning ritual; gentle, reliable and always so comforting.

Kathy’s been my nanny since I moved away from home at almost thirteen. Just a kid, alone in a new world; with only a nanny. But Kathy wasn’t just anyone. Before that, she was a maid in our family home. She’s more than just my caretaker. She's been like my second mother. She never had any children of her own, so she poured everything she had, all of her love into raising me.

I tied my sneakers, stretched, and started a slow jog toward the forest trails behind the university. It was supposed to be a short run, just enough to shake the morning fog. I had originally planned to stop by the dean’s office afterward to inquire about summer internship openings. Maybe I’d even sign up for some extra courses.

I don’t have anywhere else to be. No vacations to look forward to. No beach days or family trips.

I haven’t taken a summer off since I started university at thirteen. While other kids were playing in sprinklers, going on expensive family vacations and eating ice cream, I buried myself in research papers, pre-med programs, and clinical rotations. And I haven’t been home, not once, in all those years. But plans have a way of changing in an instant. Ten minutes into my run, my phone rings. I glance at my Apple Watch and my breath catches. Why is he calling me? He hasn’t called. Not once. Not since the day I left.

I swipe to answer, already bracing for whatever storm he’s bringing with him. “Hi, Father. What an unpleasant surprise. How are you and Mother?” I keep my tone light; sweet, but my every word is laced with sarcasm. After what he tried to do to me, I could go the rest of my life without hearing his voice again.

I can practically hear his eyes rolling through the line. “Reena why aren’t you on the fucking plane yet?” he barks. “Your sister’s a mess. She needs you here, this is the biggest day of her life. She’s your twin, and she needs you. How can you be so goddamn disrespectful?”

I blink, stunned. “What are you even talking about, dad? Why would Sophia ever need me? She hasn’t given a damn about me in over five years. Neither have you. So, let’s skip the theatrics. Please just tell me what you want.”

“You’re still as disrespectful as ever,” he snaps. “I knew your mother ruined you by sending you away to that expensive boarding school. Girls in our world don’t belong in expensive schools. They belong at home, with their families.”

“Our World? What expensive boarding school?” I laugh bitterly. “Do you mean the expensive university you haven’t paid a dime for? You’ve never paid for anything, not my tuition, not my rent, not even a single meal. So, let’s try again. What do you want?”

His voice drops to a snarl. “You should’ve been home, learning what it means to be a Morelli. Familia Girls don’t belong in labs and lecture halls; they belong beside their families. You’ll marry the man I choose, and you’ll be a good, obedient wife. That’s your future, Reena. Accept it.”

I clench my jaw as my stomach twists.

“Sophia is getting married in four days,” he growls. “You should’ve been home last week.”

My breath catches in my throat. “What? Sophia’s getting married?” I swallow hard. “Why am I just now hearing about this? Was I an afterthought?”

“I don’t care what’s going on in that little science bubble of yours,” he snaps. “Your sister is getting married, and you need to get your lazy ass on a plane and be here tonight. And don’t even think about asking me to pay for it.” He hangs up before I can say a word.

Wow. That might be the longest conversation we’ve ever had.

Deep down I knew they didn’t forget to invite me; they just chose not to. And if he’s calling now, last minute, it’s only because they need me for something.

For five years, they’ve conveniently forgotten to tell me about birthdays, holidays, deaths; everything that might’ve tethered me back to them. But I know one thing: I have to go. Not for him. Not even for Sophia. But, for Mom. For my Nono. Because for them, image is everything. And Sophia’s wedding? I’m sure it will be the ultimate show.

I’m happy for her, I really am. She’s, my twin. I wish her love and a perfect life. But if I never saw her again, I wouldn’t lose sleep. Still, I’ll go. Maybe I’ll just fade into the background, like one of the decorations. Smile when expected and speak only when spoken to.

The day after the wedding, I’ll disappear back to Boston, back to my tiny little apartment and register for summer classes. No drama, just a brief, uncomfortable detour in a life I built without them.

I need to book a flight and pack a bag. It’s going to be a long, stressful five days.

_______

Surprisingly, the flight to JFK was smooth. There were no delays, no gate changes and no chaos. Maybe that’s a good sign, maybe this trip won’t be so bad. I repeat the lie in my head like a mantra as I walk through the terminal.

I didn’t check any bags, just a carry-on and my backpack. So, I breeze through baggage claim and head for the exit.

My heart pounds as I step back into their world; the one I left behind five years ago. I tighten my grip on the handle of my bag. Whatever is waiting for me outside this terminal, I’m not ready for. But I’m here.

---

Damian

I was at the airport to pick up one of the girls I’ve been working on. I have a beautiful bouquet of red roses in hand and dressed like the picture-perfect boyfriend. Pretending I just couldn’t wait to see her.

The game plan was simple: charm her, have dinner, coax her with champagne. By the end of the night, she’d be another name on my roster. I don’t enjoy the pretending; these women aren’t special. They’re temporary. Once they’re officially part of the business, the illusion ends. But until then, I wear the mask.

I was scanning the crowd when something... unexpected caught my eye. Sophia: she was weaving through the terminal like someone was chasing her. No guards, no glam. Her hair bouncing with each frantic step.

What the hell was going on? I figured she’d be laying low after everything that went down yesterday. I definitely didn’t expect to see her here.

Her last message in the group chat had been desperate at best. ‘Hi, everyone. I figured out why you all think it’s me in the pictures and video, but it’s not. My sister Sareena is back in town. That’s her in the video, not me. She and Tommy have always been really close.’

Classic Sophia moves - deflect and deny. Even if it means throwing her twin under the bus.

Of course, I had to reply: “So, it was your sister who showed up at my office wearing your clothes and your engagement ring? It was your sister who called me an asshole, while I was balls deep in Alyssa and then stormed out crying. It was your sister who went to a bar to drink with your friends, use your cards, and ended up in bed with your bodyguard? Sure, Sophia. That makes perfect sense.”

It shut her up.

Gabby didn’t waste a second: “No, she’s not in town. We were with Sareena four days ago in Massachusetts, at her graduation,” she texted. “She’s not in New York and hasn’t been back in years. Nice try, though.”

After that, Sophia went radio silent. And now here she was, sprinting through JFK like her life depended on it.

I stood still, watching her, but something wasn’t right. She looked... off. No heels. No designer purse. No tight dress hugging every curve. Her hair wasn’t curled or styled. Just thrown up in a messy bun, darker than I remembered. No streaks. No shine. And her clothes; a pair of old gray sweatpants and a plain cropped tee. Not a single label in sight.

I turned and followed. Why the hell was she in the domestic terminal? If she was really running, she should be going international. No one escapes me, or The Familia, by staying stateside.

I picked up my pace.

Then she stopped. Paused near a sign, glancing around like she didn’t know where she was. Lost? That wasn’t like her. And then she turned... and walked straight toward me. Our eyes locked. No recognition or even a hint of hesitation. She walked right past me, like I was just another stranger. And the craziest part? She wasn’t wearing a single drop of makeup. No foundation. No liner. No gloss. No fake lashes. Just her. Raw. Unfiltered. Almost... soft.

And she looked... breathtaking. But something in her eyes told me: this wasn’t the Sophia I thought I knew.