The Wrong Twin He Buried

Lucien didn't wait for an invitation. He walked into _my_ bedroom like he owned the penthouse, the air, me. He picked up the diary from the floor, flipped to yesterday's entry, and whistled. "D, your handwriting's gotten worse. You always did press too hard when you were lying." Damian didn't move. Didn't blink. "You weren't supposed to come upstairs." "Plans change," Lucien said. He looked at me. Really looked. Not like Damian, who catalogued. Lucien _saw_. "So you're the forger. Smaller than I expected. Meaner eyes." "Get out," I said. My voice didn't shake. Three years of coffee training was good for something. Lucien grinned. "She sounds like you when you're pissed, D. It's uncanny." He tossed the diary onto the bed. "I'm just here for the merger documents. The ones Daddy signed this morning. The ones that transfer Kaine Corp's controlling shares to the 'Kaine spouse' in the event of his death." Ice slid down my spine. Damian's expression didn't change. "You're not dead, Lucien." "Not legally, no." Lucien pulled a folded paper from his jacket. A death certificate. _Lucien Kaine. Cause of death: accidental drowning. Date: April 2nd, three years ago._ "But you filed this. You buried me. You told the world I was gone so you could have the company to yourself. And now you've married her"-he pointed at me-"so when you _do_ die, she gets everything. Not me. Not Dad. Her." I looked at Damian. "Is that true?" "Yes." No denial. No explanation. Just _yes_. Lucien laughed, but it wasn't amused. "He's been planning this since college, sweetheart. He knew Celeste was weak. He knew you were strong. He just needed you legal. A wife can inherit without a will. A mistress can't." "So I'm a loophole," I said. "You're the whole damn plan," Damian said quietly. "Lucien embezzled forty million from Kaine Corp three years ago. I covered it up. I declared him dead to save the board from a scandal. In exchange, he disappeared. He was supposed to stay gone." "Until you married the wrong twin," Lucien cut in. "Now I'm back, because if I don't get those shares, I go to prison. And if I go to prison, I'm taking you with me, brother. I kept records. Of everything." He stepped toward me. "That includes the part where you told Celeste to break it off with me or you'd ruin her. The part where you leaked the boat accident story yourself. The part where you've been stalking Elise since she was twenty." Damian's jaw ticked. First crack I'd seen all day. "Stalking?" I asked. Lucien pulled out his phone. Swiped. Turned it to me. Photos. Hundreds. Me at college. Me at my old apartment. Me signing Celeste's name on a loan doc. Me, last week, buying this exact wedding dress _in my size_ because Celeste "lost weight." Time-stamped. Date-stamped. Years of them. "He had me followed," Damian said. "For your protection." "Protection," Lucien mocked. "He has a room, Elise. At his old place. Walls covered. Schedules. Food orders. He knows you hate cilantro. He knows you cry at dog food commercials. He knows you forged Celeste's SATs so she could get into NYU." I felt sick. Violated. _Seen_ in a way that had nothing to do with love. "So what now?" I asked. My hands were steady. They always were when I was cornered. That's what made me good at forgery. "You two fight to the death and I get the company?" "No," Damian said. He finally looked at Lucien. "We do what we agreed. She signs the documents." "What documents?" I said. Lucien smiled. "The ones that make her CEO if you die, D. And the ones that make me CEO if _she_ dies." He pulled a knife from his jacket. Not to stab. To cut. He sliced his thumb, then held it out to me. "Biometric safe needs fresh blood, sweetheart. Yours or his. I'm betting you don't want it to be his." Damian didn't stop him. He just watched me. And I understood. This wasn't a marriage. This was a hostage exchange. Damian wanted me to control the company so Lucien couldn't. Lucien wanted me to sign so he could kill me later and take it anyway. And Celeste? Celeste was the decoy. The only person in this room who got to run. I looked at the knife. Then at Damian. "Three years ago. The fundraiser. You said I told you I'd quit coffee the day I stopped loving you." "Yes." "Celeste never loved you." "No," he said. "But you did." The room went silent. "What?" "The fundraiser," he said. "You were there. You weren't on the list. You wore the catering uniform so you could watch Celeste. You spilled wine on your apron. I helped you clean it up. You told me you were pre-med. You told me you hated your sister's life. And you told me you'd quit coffee the day you stopped loving the man who made you wear that uniform." I remembered. God, I remembered. One night. One conversation with a stranger who had kind eyes and a scar through his eyebrow. I'd thought he was a waiter. He'd thought I was the help. "You never told me your name," he said. "But I found out. And I've been waiting for you to stop wearing hers." Lucien snorted. "Jesus, D. You're sicker than I thought." Damian ignored him. "Sign the papers, Elise. Take the company. Burn it down. I don't care. I just want you to choose. Her life, or yours." He slid a folder across the bed. _Kaine Corp Contingency Transfer_. My name already typed. _Elise Kaine_. Not Celeste. Lucien put the knife to his own palm. "Sign it, and I walk. Don't, and I start with him. Your choice, Mrs. Kaine." My forger's hands didn't shake. I picked up the pen. And signed it _Celeste Marie Kaine_. Perfect. Flawless. Indistinguishable from the real thing. Damian's face went white. Lucien started laughing. "Oh. Oh, you're _good_." I dropped the pen. "If you wanted Elise, you should have proposed to her," I said to Damian. "But you didn't. You proposed to Celeste. So that's who you married." I looked at Lucien. "And if you want the company, you'll have to kill the right twin. Good luck figuring out which one that is."