Patricia.

I hadn’t expected him to barge into the room like a mad man.

One moment, everything had been still, quiet, almost suffocating, and the next, the door flew open with such force that it startled even me. My head snapped up instantly, my eyes locking onto him as he stormed in, his presence filling the room with urgency and something dangerously close to desperation.

For a brief second, I considered shifting, adjusting myself just enough to face him better but the sharp pull at my wrists reminded me immediately.

I couldn’t.

My hands were still restrained, tightly bound to the chair, the ropes digging into my skin every time I moved even slightly. So instead, I settled for turning my head just enough to keep him in view, my brows pulling together as I tried to make sense of his sudden appearance.

And then...He spoke.

And the question he asked made even less sense than his entrance.

A twin?

Of all things?

What exactly was he thinking?

What could have possibly led him to that conclusion?

"What twin?" I asked, genuinely puzzled, my voice carrying both confusion and disbelief as I stared at him.

But he didn’t back down, nor did he hesitate. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence looming as he leaned in slightly, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that made it clear he wasn’t asking casually.

"Are you sure?" he pressed, his voice sharper now. "Think harder, Patricia."

I blinked once.

Then slowly, I let out a small scoff, the sound laced with mild amusement despite the situation I was in.

"All my years of growing up, Damien," I began, my tone steady, almost nonchalant, "I have never heard of Maria being a twin."

I paused briefly, watching his reaction, noting the way his expression tightened ever so slightly.

Interesting.

"I wonder why you’re suddenly asking," I added, tilting my head just a little, my lips curling into a faint, teasing smile. "Do you want her to be?"

The question lingered, playful on the surface, but there was something more beneath it.

My smile widened slightly because from where I was sitting, it was obvious.

He was frustrated.

Fed up.

Maria had clearly gotten under his skin far more than he would ever admit and now, he was looking for something, anything to make sense of it or rather to justify it.

"No!"

The word came out quickly, almost too quickly, like a reflex but then he stopped.

His expression shifted slightly, as if my last words had finally caught up with him, like he was just now processing what I had implied.

For a brief moment, he said nothing.

"She better not be," he added, his voice lower this time, more controlled, but there was an edge to it, something unresolved, something unsettling.

Without another word, he straightened abruptly, turning away from me as if staying any longer would only make things worse. And just like that, he stormed out.

The door slammed behind him, the sound echoing through the room before silence settled in once again.

I watched the door for a moment longer, the faint smile still lingering on my lips, slow and knowing.

"Whatever."

The word slipped out of my lips the moment he stepped out completely, the door shutting behind him with a dull thud that echoed faintly in the room. I let my head fall back slightly against the chair, my eyes lingering on the door for a second longer before I finally looked away.

But the question he had asked...It didn’t sit right.

My brows pulled together slowly, my mind replaying his words over and over again.

A twin?

Why would he even think that?

What exactly made him come to that conclusion?

I exhaled quietly, my gaze drifting to the side as I tried to piece it together, but nothing added up. There was no reason, at least none that I knew of, that would lead him there.

Because as far as I was concerned...Maria was never a twin.

Father had never said anything like that, not even once. The only thing he had ever mentioned about her was far more...strange.

That she was born still.

I could still remember the way he had said it, the weight in his voice, the finality of it.

She wasn’t supposed to live and yet, somehow, miraculously...she came back.

Crying.

Alive.

I clicked my tongue softly, the sound sharp in the silence as a bitter expression crossed my face.

"She should have just remained like that," I muttered under my breath, my voice low but filled with resentment. "Why did she bother to come back and cause trouble for me?"

The words lingered in the air, heavy with frustration, with anger that had been building for far too long.

My gaze drifted slowly around the room, taking in the dull, suffocating surroundings before finally settling on my hands.

Still tied.

Still restrained tightly against the chair.

The ropes dug into my wrists, the slight movement causing a faint sting, a constant reminder of my current situation.

I let out a slow breath, leaning back slightly as I forced myself to relax, just a little.

Oddly enough...A faint sigh of relief escaped me.

Because this?

This wasn’t over.

Not even close.

"Maria..." I called out, my voice rising slightly as I straightened just a bit, my eyes narrowing with a dangerous glint. "You better prepare yourself."

My fingers curled slightly despite the restraints, my body tensing as the anger settled deeper, more focused now, more controlled.

"Because once I get out of here..." My voice hardened. "I will make you feel the exact pain I’m feeling now."

The words echoed, filled with promise rather than threat.

I didn’t stop there.

Because there was someone else. Someone who had crossed a line he could never undo.

"And you, Darren..." I added, my tone dropping, colder now, sharper, my jaw clenching tightly. "I will make you regret the day you ever chose to side with Maria."