All Chapters of Twinned lies: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The soft clink of crystal glasses and the low hum of classical music filled the grand ballroom of the Verano Estate, a fortress masquerading as elegance. Candlelight danced on the chandeliers, reflecting off the diamonds and secrets that adorned every guest. Behind every tailored tuxedo was a weapon; behind every smile, an agenda. Luciano De Rossi—Luca to those who dared to be familiar—stood at the edge of the crowd, glass of blood-red Chianti untouched in his hand. His tailored black suit clung to his broad frame, a silent threat. His dark eyes surveyed the room like a predator scanning for weakness. The last time he came to an event like this was the night he had to step up and fill in the big shoes his father left behind…….blood soaked the marble floors of his family’s villa in Palermo. He had been twenty-four then—sharp-suited, sharper-minded, and already whispered about in the back alleys of Naples and Milan. But he had not yet been *Don*.His father, Alessandro De Rossi, had ru

The moment Emilia stepped into the De Rossi estate, a chill crawled down her spine.The villa loomed like a predator, all sleek lines and guarded beauty, perched above the Amalfi cliffs like it had secrets buried in its walls. Luca had said little after she revealed she had a sister—just enough to make her question if she really was being captured and held hostage by a mafia don as a result of mistaken identity, or if she’d been coerced by the sheer force of his presence.“You live here?” she asked, her voice tight as the iron gates clanged shut behind them.He shot her a look. “No. I drag women who steal from me here for fun.”Emilia bristled but held her tongue. His sarcasm had a knife’s edge, sharp and defensive. She recognized that kind of armor—it came from being hurt, and badly. She’d seen it in her sister, years ago, before she vanished. Before the calls stopped. Before Emilia was left wondering what had gone so horribly wrong.Inside, the villa was dark wood and stone, the kin

*five years ago*The sky over the garden was ash-grey, heavy with the scent of impending rain. Emilia leaned against the wrought iron railing of the veranda, watching Isadora smoke with a kind of theatrical melancholy, like she knew it would be the last time they stood together like this.“You always disappear when things get real,” Emilia said, arms crossed tightly across her chest.Isadora didn’t look at her. She exhaled a curl of smoke, eyes following it as if it might spell her fate. “I don’t disappear. I retreat. There’s a difference.”“Semantics.”Isadora finally turned, her face unreadable. “No, survival.”Emilia stepped forward. “Isadora, if you’re in trouble—”“I’m always in trouble,” Isadora interrupted, her voice tired but edged with amusement. “But it’s never the kind you can fix with one of your well-organized plans”Emilia’s face fell. “So that’s it? You just go off the grid? Not even a goodbye?”“I left you something,” Isadora said, flicking the end of her cigarette. “P

The house was quieter than it had ever been. Even the floorboards, usually so quick to betray footsteps, seemed to hold their breath. Emilia had barely left her room in days—only when hunger managed to rise above the dull fog in her chest.But tonight, there was a knock. Soft. A second later, the door creaked open anyway.Her mother stood there, framed by the golden hallway light, looking older somehow in her cardigan and slippers. “Noona Peppi?” she said as she sat up from her bed.“I’m sorry about how our last conversation went Milicorn, my strong girl. Your father and I were wrong to have shut you out all those years.”These words were what she had searched and waited for almost all her life, finally hearing it from her mother, it felt like healing from within, it felt like she was finally loved. Emilia didn’t look up from the patch of blanket she’d been staring at. The air in the room was stale, thick with old tears and unspoken words.“I know you don’t feel like talking,” her m

The morning light seeped through the tall windows, washing the quiet room in gold. The house in Prague was quiet except for the soft creak of old wood and the distant flutter of pigeons outside.Luca sat in a chair across the room, a book open but forgotten on his lap. His eyes, steady and unreadable, were fixed on the figure tangled in the linen sheets of the low bed. Emilia stirred slowly, her brow knitting as wakefulness took her.She blinked toward the ceiling first, as though unsure of where she was. Then, with a sudden shift of tension in her shoulders, she turned her head and saw him.Luca didn’t smile, not exactly. He waited.“Good morning,” Emilia whispered, her voice rough from sleep. She pulled the blanket a little higher up her chest.“You slept deeply,” Luca said quietly, almost too casually. His accent curled around the syllables.She nodded, eyes flicking away from him, then back. “I guess I was tired.”She first discovered that he was indeed shirtless this morning, but