Chapter 4 The corporate apartment's main room reeks of expensive neutrality-beige walls and generic furniture. The kind of soulless space designed to be forgotten. Two guards lie unconscious on the hardwood floor. Blood pools beneath the head of the one Drew pistol-whipped when he reached for his radio. It felt fucking good to watch that bastard drop. My knuckles throb from connecting with the other guard's jaw, the pain a welcome reminder that I'm free, that I can fight back. Months of captivity have left me weaker than I've ever been, but rage makes up for a lot of lost muscle mass. "That was unnecessary," Drew mutters, checking the pulse of the guard I dropped. Still breathing, unfortunately, despite the two shots I fired at them. Okay, to be fair, I was only trying to scare them. I don't really want to deal with any dead bodies today. "Was it?" I flex my fingers, working out the stiffness. "They're keeping Lilian prisoner. Fuck 'em. Plus, you just pistol-whipped that dude, man. A couple of warning shots and a punch to the throat isn't going to matter much as long as they are alive." "I suppose, as long as no one dies." My gaze swings to my identical twin. Arson stands over the unconscious bodies with cold satisfaction, like he's cataloging their injuries for future reference. A similar satisfaction fills my chest, and all I can think is that sometimes you need to hurt someone just to remember that you still can. One single door leads off the main room, and I know somewhere on the other side is where they're keeping her. The door is reinforced steel with an electronic lock pad that's been flashing red since we arrived. Nothing says I'm hiding something like extra security. I can hear voices, though they're muffled, on the other side. Adrenaline zips through my veins. We're so close to having her back, to having her safe. That's when Arson's phone rings. Not the burner he's been using to coordinate with his backers, but my phone-the sleek device that has been part of my daily life for years, carrying my contacts, my history, and my digital identity. Arson pulls it out, his face filling with dread. I peek at the screen and see Richard's contact information. Fuck, this isn't going to be good. "Shit," Arson hisses, staring at the device like it might explode. "What the fuck could he want?" Drew glances between us, confusion evident. "Who?" "Richard." The phone continues ringing, each tone another second of Lilian being locked away and out of sight. "Answer it," I finally say. "You've been playing me for months. Why stop now?" Arson's gaze cuts me in half, and I know what he's thinking. This isn't happenstance. He swipes to accept the call, his voice shifting into familiar patterns as he easily slips back into his impersonation of me. "Yes, sir," he says, and the formality makes my skin crawl. Do I really sound that deferential when I speak to Richard? I can't hear Richard's side of the conversation, but I watch Arson's expression shift from neutral to concerned to barely controlled anger. Whatever Richard is saying triggers Arson and has me on alert. "I understand," Arson continues, voice clipped. "Yes. Of course, no, that won't be a problem. I'll be there." The call ends a second later, and Arson stares down at the phone screen for a beat before looking up at us. "Emergency board meeting at Hayes headquarters," he explains, his voice tight. "Now. Apparently, there has been some unexpected movement regarding an acquisition. Richard wants all hands on deck." "What convenient timing he has," Drew mutters, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Richard doesn't do coincidences," I say, the familiar weight of suspicion settling in my gut. "What else did he say?" Arson's hesitation confirms my fears. There's more, something he doesn't want to share. Something that's shifted the calculus of this entire situation. "Nothing worth repeating," he dismisses, already moving toward the door. "We need to focus on getting Lilian out." "Bullshit." I grab his arm, noting how he tenses at the contact. "I have a right to know. What aren't you telling me?" Our eyes meet again, identical faces reflecting identical determination. For a moment, I see past the hatred he's cultivated over the decades, past the carefully constructed walls of rage and resentment, and what I see makes my heart skip a beat. Regret. "He said something about traveling," Arson admits finally. "That's not going to happen. I can't leave right now. Not with...everything going on. I won't." Richard uses vague language like that when he's maneuvering pieces on his chessboard, as he prepares for some larger play that requires absolute control over his assets, which would include his son. "Something's wrong," I announce, studying Arson's expression. "Does he suspect something about your behavior?" "Maybe." Arson's jaw tightens. "He doesn't know I'm free, but he might be picking up on inconsistencies. Things you would do differently." "Like what?" "Like caring about Lilian's whereabouts. Like missing meetings. Like any of the hundred small things I've had to guess on while playing you." Arson runs a hand through his hair. "If he's suspicious enough to call an emergency meeting..." "Then maybe he's testing you," I finish, the familiar dread settling in my gut. "Seeing if you'll respond the way I would." Drew shifts nervously. "What happens if you fail the test?" Neither of us answers, but we both know what happens. Richard doesn't tolerate deception, especially not from family. If he discovers his golden son has been replaced by the twin he'd had committed... all hell will break loose. "We're all fucked." Arson's expression is grim. "Then you have to leave, right? We can't take the risk." "There isn't another option." For the first time in forever, I see my brother conflicted, and I understand that feeling all too well. "Why couldn't he have called ten minutes later?" "Look, it's fine. We'll get Lilian out. You go deal with him. It'll look way too suspicious if you don't show up." Arson nods once, slowly, and we agree. Just two brothers staring down the same monster. "Don't fuck this up," he says, already moving toward the apartment's exit. "If anything happens to her, there won't be anyone to stop me from killing you." "Likewise, Brother." What I don't tell him is that if anything happens to Lilian, if she dies because of this, I will never forgive myself. He pauses at the door, one hand braced on the frame, looking back at me with an expression I can't quite read-part fear, part something else I'm not ready to name. "I mean it... if anything happens to her⁠-" I cut him off, sharper than I intended. "Nothing is going to happen. I won't let it." My voice lowers, steadier now. "I'll update you the second we have her and figure out what the plan is." "Okay." The word is quiet, almost reluctant. His gaze lingers, searching my face like he's trying to make sure I understand something he can't bring himself to say. His mouth opens, then closes again. A thousand unspoken words hang between us, heavy enough to feel in my chest. Then he's gone, disappearing into the hallway, leaving Drew and me alone with the unconscious guards and the steel door that separates us from Lilian. In the sudden silence, I can hear all my worries and fears as if they have their own heartbeat. "This is fucked," Drew mutters, checking the electronic lock. "If Richard's suspicious..." We're balancing on a knife's edge. One slipup and we could bleed out. There's no denying that Richard suspects something is amiss with his son's behavior, but he's unaware of Arson's existence. If Arson can maintain the deception, continue playing the role of Aries Hayes, we still have a chance. But if Richard sees through the performance... I shake the thought away. None of that changes the immediate reality. Lilian is behind that door, trapped because of our family's toxic legacy. Whatever Richard's endgame might be, it doesn't matter. I can't do anything until I get her to safety. I press my ear to the steel, listening to the conversation within. I can barely make out the muffled voices. "Let's finish this," I say, stepping back as Drew works on the lock. "After we get her out," Drew continues, "where do you want to take her? My place is secure, but I don't want all of this around Bel. I have another warehouse I can take you to." I study him with growing suspicion. "What's your angle in all this? Why help either of us?" Something that looks close to guilt flashes in his eyes before he blinks it away. "That's not important right now." "It is to me." "Look," Drew says, exasperation breaking through his usual composure, "you can hate me later. Both of you. Right now, we need to move before those men in there decide Lilian's outlived her usefulness." He's right, but the betrayal of his negligence still sits in my gut like poison. Drew Marshall-my teammate, my confidant, one of three people I actually trusted. All this time, he watched me vanish and said nothing, did nothing. When this is over, when Lilian is safe, I'll let him know exactly how I feel about his betrayal. For now, I need him, so I bite my tongue and carry on. Drew works on the electronic lock with practiced efficiency, another surprising skill from my supposedly straightforward friend. The red light flickers to green, and the steel door slides open with a soft hiss. The scene that greets us stops me cold in my tracks. Lilian sits zip-tied to a chair in the center of the room. She's alert and unharmed, looking more angry than afraid. Two men in expensive suits stand nearby-the older one adjusting his cuff links with practiced precision, the younger one positioning himself with the casual readiness of someone accustomed to violence. He has his gun out and pressed to the side of Lilian's head. Neither makes a move for more weapons when we enter. If anything, they look relieved to see us. "Mr. Hayes," the older man says pleasantly, as if we've just arrived for a scheduled appointment. His gaze settles on me with obvious satisfaction. "I was hoping to speak with you specifically." "You've got thirty seconds before I put a bullet in your chest." I keep the gun trained on him. "That would be unfortunate," he says, unmoved by the threat. "Particularly since we're all working toward the same goal." "Which is?" "The complete destruction of the Hayes empire." His smile is cold and calculating. "Something that will happen much faster with your cooperation." Drew shifts beside me, confused. "What the hell is he talking about?" The older man's attention never wavers from my face. "Your brother has been quite effective in his infiltration, but there are limitations to what one person can accomplish. Certain access points that require your specific authorization, for example. Your particular expertise. And it will hurt so much more for both of Richard's sons to turn on him." "I'm not helping you with anything." "Not even to save her?" He gestures toward Lilian, who meets my eyes with a mixture of relief and warning. "Your brother seemed quite motivated by Miss Hayes's well-being. I assume you share his...attachment?" The casual mention of Arson's feelings for Lilian evokes a wave of jealousy, followed by a protective rage. They've been using her as leverage, counting on both of us caring enough to compromise our principles to keep her safe. The very thing I spent years trying to protect Lilian from-the reason I denied giving her what we both wanted-was to save her from being used against me by my father. Yet somehow, she has become a chess piece in a game I wasn't even aware we were playing. "What do you want?" I ask through gritted teeth. "What we've always wanted. Richard Hayes destroyed. His empire dismantled. His legacy erased." The older man's expression hardens. "He's caused considerable damage over the years to too many people. It's time for that debt to be paid." "And you think kidnapping Lilian will make me help you?" "I think your brother's weeklong deadline to eliminate Richard Hayes will be much easier to meet with your assistance." He checks his watch with theatrical precision. "Six days, eighteen hours remaining. Hardly enough time for a lone operative, but with both Hayes sons working together..." A week. They've given Arson a week to kill Richard, and they're using Lilian to ensure compliance. The cold calculation of it makes my skin crawl. "You're insane if you think⁠-" "Your brother has already agreed to these terms," the older man interrupts smoothly. "Quite enthusiastically, actually, once he understood the alternative." I look at Lilian, seeing my own understanding reflected in her eyes. We've all been maneuvered into this position, manipulated by forces we're only beginning to understand. "Let her go," I demand. "Then we'll talk." "Actually," the older man says, producing a knife to cut Lilian's restraints, "your brother was quite insistent about that particular term. Miss Hayes goes with you. Immediately." The zip ties fall away, and Lilian rubs her wrists, relief evident on her face. She doesn't move toward us, eyes darting between the suited men with obvious wariness. "He negotiated for her release?" I ask, surprised despite myself. "Your brother can be quite persuasive when properly motivated." The older man's smile makes my stomach churn. "He made it clear that Miss Hayes's safety was nonnegotiable. That her continued captivity would interfere with his ability to focus on the task at hand." Another piece of evidence that Arson's feelings for Lilian run deeper than I'd understood. He'd put her safety above his revenge, above everything he's worked toward for years. "Come on," I say, extending my hand toward Lilian. "Let's get you out of here." She takes my hand without hesitation, her fingers cold but steady. The contact sends a familiar jolt through me-the need to both protect and possess her all at once. "Six days, eighteen hours," the older man reminds us as we move toward the door. "We'll be monitoring progress closely." "Just because Arson already agreed doesn't mean we do. What if we refuse?" Drew asks. "We could just kill you right now." "Then Richard Hayes continues breathing, and a lot of innocent people don't. Including all of us...you think I'd invite you here without a backup plan?" The threat is delivered with casual efficiency. "Now, I don't think that further violence is necessary at this point. After all, we all want the same thing-justice for past wrongs. And definitely not to be blown to tiny bits by the bombs lining the exterior of this floor." I have Lilian tucked into my side by the time we reach the doorway. The older man makes no move to stop us, his confidence absolute. "Oh, and Mr. Hayes?" he calls as we step into the hallway. "Your brother mentioned you might need additional...motivation. Rest assured, we have extensive files on everyone you care about. Miss Hayes is simply the most convenient pressure point." The casual mention of threats against others that I care about chills the blood in my veins. I could react, could retaliate, but there wouldn't be any point. I have Lilian, and she's safe between Drew and me while we put further distance between us and the men who think they can orchestrate our lives. "We'll be seeing you soon." The older man smiles as we disappear out the door. We don't slow our pace until we're near the building's exit, and it's only then that I feel like I can finally breathe. "Drew has a safehouse," I mutter to Lilian as we exit the building, stepping over the unconscious guards. "He says it's secure." "For now," Lilian says quietly. "None of us is truly safe until this is over. They'll be waiting and watching until the last second." She's right. We're not free-we're just playing by different rules in the same twisted game. The only benefit is that we're at least together, the three of us against whatever Richard and these shadow backers have planned. I don't know what the future holds, but I do know that whatever happens next, whatever price we'll be forced to pay, it starts with keeping Lilian safe and figuring out how to turn this weeklong deadline into something we can survive.