Semua Bab Twinned lies: Bab 11 - Bab 20

The morning came quietly.Sunlight slipped through the sheer curtains, golden and warm, painting the room in soft amber. Dust floated lazily in the air, undisturbed. The world outside had started to stir, but here—within the walls of Luca’s bedroom—it still felt like night hadn’t truly ended.Emilia stirred beneath the linen sheets, her bare leg brushing against his. For a moment, she didn’t open her eyes—she just felt. The weight of his arm across her waist. The steady rise and fall of his breath. The warmth of his chest beneath her cheek.It felt like the safest place she’d ever known.And that terrified her.Her fingers drifted along his side, tracing the faintest scar across his ribs. She remembered the way he’d held her last night—not like a possession, not like something fragile, but like something his... something cherished.She opened her eyes slowly.Luca was already awake.His head rested on the pillow beside her, face turned toward her, eyes quietly watching. There was no s

The world burned in sepia tones. Smoke coiled like spirits in the alley where Cece fell. Her white dress, so ordinary hours before, now fluttered like a torn flag in the gutter—stained crimson. A shot rang out, though in dreams it was always silent, like thunder behind glass. Her eyes met his before they closed, not in fear, but in that quiet acceptance only children and saints seem to have.Their mother screamed—a jagged sound that split the air, more animal than human. She was already collapsing to the floor, her heart succumbing before the gunman ever turned away. Luca tried to run, but his feet stayed rooted to the wet pavement. Time bent. The figures moved in reverse, Cece rising, the bullet flying back into the barrel, their mother drawing breath again. But even in dreams, he knew: they were already dead.And his father, standing in the shadows—tall, unreadable—was already beginning to disappear. Not gone. Just... fading.Then came the quiet. That empty kind, where grief hums be

Isadora stood in front of the mirror, the brush in her hand trembling ever so slightly as she swept it through her newly dyed hair. The once chestnut strands had vanished beneath the soft, golden hue that Emilia had worn since they were children. She’d even mimicked the slight wave Emilia favored—loose enough to look natural, sculpted enough to whisper elegance.The gown she wore shimmered in the candlelight. It was one of Emilia’s favorite—deep sapphire cotton with delicate embroidery at the sleeves, cinched just enough at the waist to draw attention but not scandal. It still carried the faintest trace of rose perfume.She stared at her reflection. The tilt of her head, the arch of her brow, even the slight downturn of her mouth—it was uncanny. She had become her sister.No one would know. No one could know.Moving through the corridor with practiced grace, she passed unnoticed. The staff assumed she was Emilia. They bowed their heads, addressed her as “miss,” and carried on with the

Emilia stepped quietly back into the bedroom, her feet bare against the polished wood floors. The door clicked softly behind her.Luca was at the window, shirtless, one hand braced on the frame as he looked out over the garden. The morning sun hit his shoulders, outlining the sharp definition of his back in golden light. He hadn’t heard her come in.She leaned against the doorway, arms folded, a smile tugging at her lips.“So,” she said, “how many people did you mobilize to find me?”Luca turned sharply, the tension in his shoulders melting the second his eyes landed on her. “Dio, don’t do that again,” he muttered, crossing the room in three long strides.She laughed, not bothering to move as he reached her. “What, disappear to the next room for half an hour?”“You weren’t in bed,” he said, exasperated but not unkind. His voice was low, still hoarse from sleep and maybe just a little raw from the fear. “And you didn’t say where you were going.”“You thought I ran off with Isadora?” sh

Marco had been watching Isadora for days now — ever since the phone calls started. Quiet, coded, always in a hushed tone. She always stepped away from their conversations when answering. She was careful, but not careful enough or she wanted to be noticed? He didn’t know what to do, by the time their jet touched down in Russia, he had enough to raise an eyebrow — and Luca was no fool. He gave the order the moment they stepped off the plane.“Keep watching her,” Luca said under his breath, his breath visible in the freezing night. “I want to know where she goes. Every step.”So when Isadora snuck out of the house later that night, Marco was ready. He had already instructed the perimeter guards earlier in the day — “If her twin comes through, let her pass. No questions.” They had earlier been told how to differentiate the two of them, without her knowledge.He watched from the shadows as she slipped past them, dark coat wrapped tight, scarf covering the lower half of her face. She playe