Lahat ng Kabanata ng The Wrong Twin's Kiss : Kabanata 151 - Kabanata 160

Lyra POV I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorway as I tried to keep my emotions in check. Angela was standing there, disheveled and broken in a way I hadn’t seen before. A part of me softened, but the wounds she’d left were too fresh to let her off the hook. “You’re sorry,” I repeated, my voice flat. “And what exactly am I supposed to do with that?” Angela’s hands fidgeted at her sides, her usual confidence nowhere in sight. “Lara, I know I can’t undo what I’ve done, but I’m here because I can’t carry this guilt anymore. I’ve been a terrible sister, and I need to make things right. Please, let me try.” I stepped aside, letting her into my apartment without a word. As much as I wanted to shut the door in her face, a part of me needed to hear what she had to say. Angela hesitated before stepping inside, her eyes scanning the space as if looking for something to anchor her. She turned to me, her lips trembling. “I messed up, Lara. I let my jealousy and anger control me,

Lyra’s POVThe cold, sterile smell of the hospital hit me the moment I stepped inside. My heart was pounding so hard it drowned out every other sound—the murmur of voices, the beep of monitors, the shuffling of feet. Angela. Critical condition. The nurse’s words rang in my ears as I approached the counter, my voice trembling as I asked, “Angela… Angela Hayes. Where is she?” The receptionist barely glanced up, typing away on her computer. “Room 115. Down the hall, second door on your left.” I didn’t wait for her to finish. My feet moved before my mind could catch up, rushing down the hallway, my breaths coming in short, panicked gasps. My legs felt like jelly, but I pushed forward, ignoring the ache. When I reached the door marked *115,* I paused, my hand hovering over the handle. I wasn’t ready to see her like this—to see my sister, my twin, lying broken and vulnerable. But I had to. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, my breath catching in my throat at the sight be

Kurtis’s POVJames was a menace, a shadow that loomed over Lyra and Angela's lives for far too long. As I stood by the window of my penthouse suite, staring at the city lights below, the thought of letting him roam free even for another day was unbearable. Lyra’s safety wasn’t just a responsibility, it was personal. “I’m not waiting for him to make his next move,” I said, turning to Detective Harper on the other end of the phone. Harper’s voice was professional but tinged with determination. “We need solid evidence to make the arrest stick, Kurtis. What you’ve given us so far is compelling, but I need more to ensure he doesn’t wriggle out on a technicality.” I clenched my fist. “Then you’ll have it. I’ll send over every document, every email, every recording we’ve compiled so far. And I’ll make sure he has no place to run.” After hanging up, I paced the room, my mind racing. James was clever, but arrogance was his fatal flaw. He never imagined I’d play the long game, collectin

Kurtis’s POVThe morning after James was arrested, I woke up feeling lighter, yet there was still a lingering weight on my chest. Alice. She was the real puppet master, the mastermind behind James’s schemes. If I let my guard down now, it could all be for nothing. I sat at the edge of the bed, watching Lyra sleep. Her face was serene, untouched by the chaos that constantly tried to invade our lives. I wanted to keep it that way. Standing up, I grabbed my phone and dialed Detective Harper. “Harper,” her voice was sharp and awake despite the early hour. “We’ve got to move on Alice,” I said, my tone firm. “If she gets wind of James’s arrest, she’ll bolt. We need to act now.” There was a pause on the other end of the line before Harper responded. “Agreed. Do you have anything concrete on her yet?” “Not enough to keep her locked up for long,” I admitted. “But James’s arrest is going to shake her. If we can catch her making a move, we’ll have something to work with.” “I’ll dispa

Lyra's POV The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee drifting up to my room. For a moment, I stayed under the covers, savoring the warmth of my bed and the quiet anticipation that filled the air. Tomorrow, I would become Mrs. Lyra Hartley. The thought sent a flutter of excitement and nerves through me. Finally, curiosity got the better of me, and I padded downstairs, barefoot, my robe loosely tied. In the kitchen, I found Angela standing by the counter, a steaming mug in her hands. Her back was to me, and she seemed lost in thought. “Good morning,” I said, stepping closer, my voice soft so as not to startle her. Angela jumped slightly but quickly recovered, turning around with a faint smile. “Good morning. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just... couldn’t sleep.” I reached for a mug and poured myself some coffee, the rich aroma wrapping around me like a comforting hug. “You didn’t wake me,” I assured her. “But you being up this early is definitely unusual. What’s on your