Chapter 10 The next day, Drew drops off a couple more laptops and phones for us. The past twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind of ups and downs, but it appears Arson and Aries have come to an easy truce...or maybe a better word would be an uneasy truce. It doesn't really matter. I don't expect them to always get along or to let go of what happened. I know there are unresolved issues and trauma there, but it makes me feel better that they want to put their differences aside, at least for me. After spending a good portion of the day reading over reports. Any mention of the names Arson gave me. Of reports related to Hayes Enterprises, and of the Medical Research Division looking for any inclination or hidden meaning, and very quickly, I want to claw my own eyes out. Aries approaches me with a smile while I'm sitting at the small kitchenette table. I'm finally in my own clothes, and he is, too. It might seem strange to comment on, but there's so much comfort in a little bit of normalcy, especially when everything has been far from normal. I wonder if it feels weird to him? To return to his old life, but be a completely different person. "Hey, you." I greet him with a smile. He doesn't greet me with a hello. Instead, he bends down and scoops me up into his arms like I weigh nothing. For someone who's spent months in captivity, his strength is surprising-his muscles may have atrophied, but the core power is still there, coiled and ready to be unleashed. "What are you doing?" I ask, my hands automatically finding purchase around his neck. "We need to talk," he says, voice low and determined. "Alone." Arson stands at the opening of the hallway, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He shoves off the wall, his posture shifting from casual to threatening in the blink of an eye. "You're not taking her anywhere." I hold up a hand to stop him. "Relax. It's fine." "The hell it is," Arson growls, eyes locked on his twin. "I'm not letting him take you anywhere alone." Aries's entire body tenses, his arms tightening around me to the point of discomfort. "I'm not going to hurt her," he spits out, the words practically vibrating with rage. The anger in him is so close to the surface these days, bubbling just beneath his skin like lava ready to erupt. It's nothing like the controlled, measured Aries I grew up with-the perfect Hayes heir who never raised his voice, never lost his cool, never showed anything but calculated charm. That was the man I fell for, but this new Aries makes me crave him even more. He's raw and exposed, his emotions no longer buried beneath layers of conditioning. It's terrifying, but if I'm being honest with myself, it's also a little thrilling. "It's okay," I tell Arson, trying to defuse the situation before it explodes again. "Give us a few minutes. I'm serious. You don't get to decide when I spend time with him or you. You both know the rules." The way Arson clenches his jaw proves how unhappy he is with the arrangement, but he takes a reluctant step back. The three of us are tensed in a triangle of tension so thick I could cut it with a knife. "The bedroom," I tell Aries, pointing toward the hall. Arson's expression darkens further, but he says nothing as Aries brushes past him, carrying me out of the room. I can feel him following a few steps behind, his presence like a shadow at our backs. He pauses just outside the door, and Aries, balancing on one foot, pushes it closed. The bedroom remains unchanged from the day before. However, clothing and other items are scattered around the makeshift space. Aries sets me down on the edge of the bed with surprising gentleness, then straightens, looming over me with an unreadable expression. I take a moment to really look at him, to catalog the changes captivity has wrought. He's thinner, yes, the sharp angles of his face more pronounced, but it's the change in his eyes that really strikes me. There's a hardness there that wasn't present before, a wariness that makes him look older than his twenty-six years. The polished veneer of the Hayes heir has been stripped away, revealing something more raw and authentic beneath. "Don't even think about it," I tell him when he stalks forward, flames of desire flickering in his hazel eyes. He freezes, surprise flashing across his features before it's replaced by frustration. "Why not? You didn't seem to have any problems jumping into bed with my brother." The accusation stings, but I refuse to be shamed for my choices. "Don't," I warn. "You don't get to judge me, Aries. Not after years of hot and cold, pushing me away one minute and pulling me close the next. I'm not going to have sex with you right now just because you've suddenly decided you want me. We need to heal some of the wrongs, work on us, and what we never had the chance to be." "Fuck, I understand that. I get it, but I also want you. Need you." He lets out an almost growl and turns away from me, frustration in every line of his body. I stand, shifting to get right in his face despite our height difference. "You don't get to make this choice. You don't get to tell me I'm ready for something just because you think you are. At least Arson is man enough to admit what he wants. He doesn't play games or pretend he's not interested in protecting me. I want you to tell me what I am to you. What I mean to you. I know it already, but there is a difference between hearing someone tell you something and knowing it based upon instinct." Aries's jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek. "Is that what you think I was doing? Playing games? None of this has ever been a game. I cannot even put into words how naive you sound right now. I'm playing games, but Arson literally used you in his own twisted game of revenge to hurt me." "This isn't about Arson. This is about us. What else should I call it?" I challenge. "One minute, you're looking at me like you want to devour me, and the next, you're pushing me away, telling me we can't, we shouldn't, it's too complicated. For years, Aries. Years of mixed signals and almost moments and nothing ever happening. I can't even describe how much your rejection hurt me." "I didn't want to reject you. I wanted you. But I also wanted to do the right thing," he argues, but there's less conviction in his voice now. "You're my stepsister. We grew up together. Our parents⁠-" "Our parents are monsters." I cut him off. "We both know that, and I think we knew that even back then. It's time to stop hiding behind family dynamics and propriety. That's not why you kept pushing me away, and we both know it." We glare at each other, both breathing hard, neither willing to back down. "Fine," Aries finally says, the word forced through gritted teeth. "You want me to say it?" "I want you to say whatever you want to say." "Then the truth is, I want you. I've always wanted you. Like the air I breathe, like the night sky needs the stars, like a fucking flower needs the sun to grow. I've longed to make you mine, and I hated myself every time I gave in to the selfish want and need to claim you for fear that my father would use you against me if he discovered how much you meant to me." The confession hangs in the air between us, raw and imperfect and entirely inadequate. But it's more than he's ever given me before. "Is that it?" I ask, unable to keep the disappointment from my voice. He knows what I'm asking for. I can see it in his eyes-the struggle, the fear, the words he can't bring himself to say. "No, there is more, but I can't give you all of it right now," he says quietly, and for a moment, the anger falls away, revealing a warm vulnerability he never allows anyone to see. "I know what you want from me, but I can't... I'm not..." "It's okay. It's fine if you can't tell me everything right now." I soften my voice. "But if you want this, want me, you need to accept that I won't let you push me away anymore. Not out of this twisted desire to protect me, or any other stupid excuse you can fathom. I know I said it yesterday, but I really need you to understand that I can't be in the middle of your hate for each other. I won't survive it. I care about both of you too much to allow either of you to use me against the other." Aries's gaze softens, and I see a flickering of guilt. "We won't. We agreed to try to let shit go. Neither of us wants to lose you." I nod and take a deep breath. Last night, I thought about what a future between the three of us would look like and how there would be no room for jealousy. It made me realize that the only way to help ease that would be to ensure they both knew what the other was doing or not doing with me. "I understand that, and I was thinking about it last night, and I decided the only way to really help ease the jealousy between the two of you is to ensure that both of you know if I'm sleeping with the other one, and the only way to do that is to make you aware or have you be present during the act." The shock on Aries's face would be comical if the situation weren't so intense. He looks like I've slapped him. "You can't be serious," he says. "Dead serious," I confirm. "Those are my terms, including trying to make amends with each other. Take them or leave them." Aries runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration I've seen a thousand times. "So what, we're supposed to share you? Take turns? Watch while the other-" He cuts himself off, apparently unable to even finish the thought. I swallow and then clarify, "All I'm asking is that you or him be in the same room. To acknowledge that I care about both of you in different ways. I'm so tired of being the object you use to hurt each other. I'm more than that, Aries." "I know this, but it's just insane," Aries mutters, though I can see him considering it. Weighing his desire for me against his hatred for his brother, against the idea of sharing, of fucking me in front of him. "Those are my conditions," I say firmly. "Like I said, I won't be the reason you two destroy each other." There's a tense moment, and then Aries scoops me up into his arms again and kisses me so hard our teeth scrape together. When I blink up for air, he holds me tight against his chest. "I'll do it. I agree to your terms. If that's the only way I can have you, then so be it. I've wanted you for years, Lilian. FUCKING years. You're a burn in my blood I can't shake, no matter how hard I try to extinguish it. I won't give you up." I wrap my arms around his neck, a little pleased with the entire declaration. "From what I heard, you tried a lot...with a lot of different girls." His cheeks pinken, and it's the cutest fucking thing I've ever seen. "I'm not saying this is going to be easy. I'm asking you to try." Aries juggles me to hold me tight in one arm and goes to the door to throw it open. "Come in, asshole. I know you were standing there listening the whole time." Aries and Arson exchange a long look, some silent communication passing between them that I can't interpret. For all their hatred, there's a connection there-a twin bond that neither captivity nor revenge has fully severed. "Whatever you want, Lilian," Arson finally says. I search his face, looking for any sign that he's agreeing just to appease me, that he'll go back on his word the moment I let up. Yet despite the reluctance in his tone, there's a resignation in his eyes that tells me he's accepted the terms, however unhappily. "Thank you," I say softly, reaching out to touch his arm. The muscle beneath my fingers is tense, coiled with restrained emotion. "Don't thank me yet," he mutters, but he doesn't pull away from my touch. "We don't know if it's going to be a miracle or a disaster." "At least it will be something," I concede. "In my mind, it's the only way forward that doesn't end with one of you killing the other." Aries's gaze flicks to Arson, who's watching our exchange with calculated interest. Something unspoken passes between them-not quite understanding, but perhaps the beginning of a reluctant truce. The moment stretches, taut with possibilities, before Aries breaks it by turning back to me, this time with more urgency, more intent. "What are you doing?" My voice comes out startled, shaky from the sudden shift, my body jolted into his arms. "Taking you to the bathroom," Aries says, his voice dropping low, rough with intent. It's the kind of tone that seeps beneath skin, curling hot and dangerous in my stomach. "I want to wash his scent off you before I have you." The possession in that statement makes my heart clench inside my chest. How long have I waited for Aries to show me this side of him? Desire pulses between my thighs. Something deep and primal answers to his authority, to the sheer force of his will. He carries me with ease, every step purposeful, his grip branding me as his. When we reach the bathroom threshold, he turns-his stare locking with Arson's. The air between them bristles, thick with unspoken challenge. "You can watch from the doorway," Aries says, tone hard as steel. "Hell, join if you want to, but I'm fucking her first." I don't know what to say in response to that, and it appears Arson doesn't, either. He falters for a moment before his composure cracks, just enough for me to catch a flicker beneath-the sharp edge of jealousy, followed by the darker lick of desire. It's a layered and complicated emotion, something that makes my pulse stumble. "You can take her first, just remember who it was that she came to first." The dig is calculated, surgical, and it hits its mark. Aries tenses, his whole body vibrating with fury, a growl rumbling up from deep in his chest. I feel it echo through my ribs, through my blood, through every place we're pressed together. Before the fury detonates, I slide my hand to his cheek, forcing him to look at me, not his brother. "Don't," I whisper, softer than I intend but no less urgent. "Don't give him what he wants. Not now. Not when you finally have me." The war in his eyes nearly breaks me-rage and rivalry clashing against years of buried hunger. For a breathless heartbeat, I don't know which side will win. Then, with a sharp exhale, Aries claims his choice. He strides into the bathroom and kicks the door shut so hard the slam ricochets off the tiles, reverberating like a declaration of war. He sets me down on the counter, his hands already at my shirt, rough and demanding. His gaze devours me whole-dark, dilated, dangerous. His fingers drag beneath fabric, callouses catching on my skin as if mapping territory that was always meant to be his. It's nothing like Arson's precise, taunting control. Aries is raw need made flesh-reckless, unrestrained, a wildfire finally set free. "Do you have any idea," he rasps, lips grazing the hollow of my throat, "how long I've wanted this? Wanted you?" I arch for him, my breath trembling. "Then why did you keep pushing me away?" He stills, forehead pressed hard against my collarbone, like it takes everything in him not to shatter. His voice breaks low, threaded with honesty that feels ripped from his chest. "Because I was terrified. Because wanting you meant more than it should have. More than I could afford." The admission slices through me, raw and unguarded. For once, the weight in his voice is heavier than the lust. And then-the door opens again. Arson enters without hesitation, all coiled grace and watchful fire. He leans against the wall, arms folded, but the blaze in his eyes betrays him. "The deal was both of us," he says evenly. The words hang heavy, a challenge wrapped in inevitability. Aries stiffens, his grip tightening at my waist as though he could anchor me, claim me, keep me from slipping away to his brother. His jaw flexes, his body torn between refusal and surrender. Then his eyes-dark, frantic, searching-lock to mine. "Are you sure about this?" he asks, so low it's meant only for me, like a plea wrapped in command. My answer is wordless. I reach for the hem of my shirt and strip it away in one fluid movement. The fabric falls to the floor with a soft whisper, but the silence after is deafening. Aries inhales sharply, ragged, as though I've just ripped the last thread of his restraint apart. His eyes drag over me, darkening into something dangerous, something starving. Behind him, Arson shifts, his composure unraveling, desire cracking through the mask. His jaw tightens, the fire in his eyes no longer hidden. The air thickens-charged, volatile, dripping with possibility. And for the first time since this storm began, I feel the balance tilt. Not toward Aries. Not toward Arson. But toward me. Their hunger, their rivalry, their restraint-every ounce of it circles back to me. And as Aries's rough hands slide up my bare sides while Arson watches with eyes that burn, I realize with startling clarity: This is my moment. My power. My choice. And I've never felt more alive.