Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 123575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 618(@200wpm)___ 494(@250wpm)___ 412(@300wpm)
“Look at him,” I demand, voice tight with barely controlled rage. “Look at him and tell me we’re the same. Tell me you can’t tell us apart.”
“I never said—” she starts, her voice muffled against the glass.
“Say it.” I press her face against the glass a little harder, and she winces. “Say we’re different. Say my name.” Through the glass, Aries watches with predatory interest, head tilted at a slight angle, like he used to when we were kids—studying weaknesses, calculating advantages.
“Arson,” she speaks clearly, her breath fogging the glass. “You’re Arson. He is Aries. I know who you are.”
“Do you?” I lean closer, speaking directly into her ear while maintaining eye contact with Aries through the glass. “Then why the fuck is his name on your lips? Why does he have a place in your thoughts after treating you with so much disdain?”
Aries steps closer to the window, chains dragging across the concrete floor.
“Trouble in paradise already?” he calls, voice carrying clearly through the intercom I never switched off. “It’s a shame. I thought you two were so perfect together. The damaged girl and the psychopath.” His mockery only feeds the rage festering inside me.
Lilian squeaks as I sink my fingers deeper into her hips. I ignore the slight tremble of her body, the fear radiating off her.
“Tell him,” I demand. “Tell him how you called me by his name. How even after he used you and left you for dead, it’s still him you think about.”
“That’s not true,” she insists, voice breaking. “It was a mistake—just a slip.”
A laugh fills the air, the sound identical to mine but somehow colder that belongs to Aries. “A Freudian slip, I believe they call it. Revealing deeper truth through verbal errors.” Stepping closer to the glass, he continues, “What seems to be the problem, Brother? Insecure about your position in her affections?”
“Shut up,” I snarl at him and tug Lilian away from the glass an inch so I can get a good look at her face. “Is this what you want? Who you want? After everything he did to you?”
“No,” she whispers, and tears finally trail down her cheeks. “Please. Arson, listen to me. This isn’t you. I’m sorry.”
“Isn’t it?” Aries taunts through the glass. “All you’ve known this whole time is what we wanted you to know, what we wanted you to see. When in reality this is exactly who he is. Who we both are. Monsters with identical faces.”
He’s right. As much as I hate him and as much as I want revenge, there is no denying that we’re more similar than we are different.
“She still doesn’t see it,” I tell Aries, voice dropping lower as something dark and irrevocable takes root. “Still doesn’t understand what we are. What we’re capable of.”
Aries’s smile widens, recognizing the dangerous edge in my tone.
There’s almost a manic glint in his eyes, and that look both excites me and makes me sick to my stomach. “Then show her, Brother. Show her exactly what happens when someone confuses us.” The suggestion feels like permission, a release of whatever final restraint has been holding me back.
If I don’t do this, Lilian will never see me. She’ll never see the difference.
With deliberate movements, I pull Lilian away from the glass, one hand gripping her arm while the other reaches for the security keypad.
“Wait! What are you doing?” Her voice rises with genuine alarm as she pieces the puzzle together in her mind. “Arson, don’t.”
I punch in the security code, and the door to Aries’s cell slides open with a pneumatic hiss. For a moment, everyone freezes. Lilian stares in horror at the open doorway, Aries stands motionless as if unable to believe his luck, and then there is me vibrating with a rage so complete it feels like clarity.
“If you want him so bad…” I tell Lilian, voice eerily calm now, “then you can have him.”
I don’t give her the chance to respond. I shove her forward with enough force that she stumbles into the cell, catching herself against the far wall. Aries’s gaze follows her movements with precision, watching as she regains her balance.
She shakes her head slowly as if she can’t believe what’s happening.
“What are you doing?” she repeats, panic edging her voice. Like a mouse caught in a trap, she tries to escape, but I block her path, maintaining position in the doorway.
“Giving you what you want, what you’ve always wanted.”
“No. I don’t want this,” she insists, her fearful eyes darting between Aries and me, who remains strategically still, chains limiting his movement but not eliminating it entirely. “Arson, please. This isn’t funny.”
“Do I look amused?” I ask coldly, crossing my arms over my chest.
Aries shifts, and his chains clink with the movement. The sound makes her flinch, attention divided between the twin threats.