Not to sexualize her.
To empower her.
Apollo gets it.My twin is an empath like me and understands people, while Ares only understandsAres.He’s all about the quick fuck and the easy money.And for that reason, we have to protect Ophelia from him.
I watch her interact with Ares, slapping his arm to push him away.She hates him.But I can also see a burning attraction.
As they go back and forth, pretending they don’t like each other, my charcoal pencil glides across the page of the sketchbook.Ophelia’s big, brown eyes widen as Ares whispers in her ear.
She hits him again.
This time with her elbow.
He comes back with another retort, and surprisingly, she smiles.She has a beautiful smile that reaches her eyes and lights up her face.My brother must have stopped saying stupid shit.Because now, she’s practically glowing and leaning into Ares’s arm.
He touches her thigh.
She bites her lip.
He bites his.
She looks away.
They’re going to fuck.
It’s inevitable.
Apollo glances over my shoulder and watches me draw, tapping his fingers on my chair.“I see you’re obsessed with her, too.”
Ignoring my twin, I add the tiny mole above her lip, capturing every detail of her face.I’ve only lived in this house for one week and have dozens of pages filled with Ophelia.
“Focus,” Apollo says in a hushed tone.“We’re not here for her.She doesn’t have to get hurt.”
I nod.“I’m not the one who needs a reminder.”My eyes dart to Ares.“As usual, he can’t control himself.”
“I’ll handle Ares,” he whispers.“Just stick to the plan.”
Belen is our target, not his daughter.We watched her for months before coming here.Ophelia isn’t a snake, like her father.Her employees respect her because she’s fair, loyal, and honest.
Not her father, though.
“After the show Ophelia and Belen just put on,” Apollo says in my ear, keeping his voice low, “we need to escalate our plans.”
One month.
Our new timeline.
I nod to agree.
After breakfast, Ophelia leans over the back of my chair, her sweet perfume creating a cloud around me.“We can talk in the sitting room when you finish drawing.”
I snap the book shut before she can get a good look at the page.“Yeah, sure.”Tucking the pencil behind my ear, I push my chair out from the table.“I’m ready now.”
Apollo’s cell phone rings, and he exits the dining room with his hand raised, gesturing that he will see me later.My twin spends most of his days staring at numbers or on the phone with investors.
I like to create things.
His mind works differently from mine.We have almost no similarities, apart from our dark hair and the same Roman nose.Most people can’t even tell we’re twins.
