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So, I made her off-limits.
I did everything I could to make her understand that whatever she thought she felt for me couldn’t happen.
For fuck’s sake, I thought I was doing her a favor.
Apparently she hadn’t agreed.
The stubborn little blondie wouldn’t give up, and that stubbornness had led to five fucking years in federal prison.
My fingers tightened around my coffee cup until the heat seeped painfully into my palm.
I remembered the courtroom. The verdict. The doors closing behind me.
The first night in that cell.
And beneath all of it, the knowledge that she was the one behind ripping my life apart.
Betrayal was a sick, hollow feeling that someone you protected used that protection against you. But then came the cold and hard anger, and that was what settled into my bones.
I had carried both her betrayal and my fury for five years.
And now the gloves were off.
Sienna had no idea what was coming.
“You do know that Aiden and I have your back,” Kyran drawled.
He took a long swallow, settling into the chair opposite of me like he was my fucking therapist.
I didn’t need a therapist. I needed her, and I was so fucking close to finding her.
“I know you’re dealing with something that you refuse to share,” Kyran continued, studying me over the rim of his beer. “Which tells me it’s something big.”
“It’s nothing.”
I lifted the coffee to my mouth and took a swallow while he continued to stare at me.
I stared back.
Kyran and I used to share everything. And I meant everything. Secrets. Women. Money. Problems. Fights.
We’d grown up together, bled together, and learned how to survive together. There had never been a wall between us.
Until Sienna.
She was the only thing I had ever refused to share.
I’d never even told him her name. I’d never told Aiden about her. Nobody.
And now, sitting in this office with five years of rage still burning beneath my skin, I knew I would never share her. Sienna’s life was mine.
Kyran shook his head and muttered something under his breath. The word fuck sounded off several times.
That pulled at the corner of my mouth. My twin had always been able to do that.
“You look in excellent shape,” Kyran said suddenly. His eyes traveled over me, assessing the changes five years had made. “Women won’t mistake us anymore. Swapping girls is definitely out of the question now.”
Five years ago, someone looking at us from across a room could easily mistake one twin for the other.