The CEO's Regret: You made me your lie, I become your Loss-Chapter 61: We always share

Amara turned to Julian, her exhaustion finally showing. "Julian, thank you. I need to get a few things. I’ll come with you."

"You aren’t leaving this house, Amara," Amira interrupted, her voice dropping to a manipulative honey-sweet tone. "You’ll stay. For Mother’s sake. Remember her poor heart? If she comes home to find her daughters at war, or one of them missing again... it might just kill her."

Amara froze. Her sister knew exactly where to twist the knife. After the nightmare with Seb, Amara didn’t have the strength to break her mother’s heart. She was trapped, not by locks and keys this time, but by blood.

"Julian... I think you should leave," Amara whispered.

"What? No! I’m not leaving you with her," Julian protested, his hand tightening on her arm.

"It’s okay," Amara insisted, looking him in the eye. "We need to talk as sisters. My mother is on her way back to the country. I’ll call you the moment she arrives."

Julian looked at Amira with pure loathing before turning back to Amara. "Call me. If I don’t hear from you in two hours, I’m coming back with the police. I will call the doctor to come check on you again."

He reluctantly walked toward the door. As he passed Amira, she leaned in, whispering loud enough for the maids to hear: "Bye, Julian! Trust me, I taste much better than she does. You can try anything you want with me."

Julian didn’t even give her the satisfaction of a glance. He walked out, the heavy doors slamming behind him.

Amara stood in the foyer, facing her shadow. The mansion that used to be her sanctuary now felt like a battlefield.

The air was thick, smelling of old money and something metallic, fear, perhaps. Or maybe it was just the scent of her twin.

Amara stood paralyzed on the cold marble floor, her gaze fixed on her. It was like looking into a twisted, distorted mirror. Her twin sister, Amira.

Amara’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, uneven rhythm. No. What does she want?

Amira took her time, each step measured, her heels clicking against the stone like a metronome counting down to something terrible. She wore a tailored suit that Amara had once owned, fitting her identically shaped body perfectly.

"Now," Amira said, her voice a chillingly smooth replica of Amara’s own, yet devoid of any warmth. She stopped on the third step from the bottom, looking down with a terrifying superiority. "Since you’ve been ’away,’ I’ve made quite a few changes to our schedule. And our bank accounts. We have a lot to catch up on, sister."

Our? The word felt like a violation.

Amara shook her head, trying to clear the haze of shock. "Our?" she repeated, her voice trembling but rising in volume. "Amira, you have your life, and I have mine. Do you get that? Yes, we are identical twins, but we have our own lives!"

She took a step back, her shoulder blades pressing against the cold oak door.

"What do you want from me?" Amara searched her sister’s eyes, those eyes that used to know her better than anyone, looking for a shred of the fifteen-year-old girl she used to share secrets with under the covers. There was nothing there but a cold, predatory intelligence. "Tell me. You just love doing this, right? Tormenting me?"

Amira laughed, a soft, pleasant sound that didn’t reach her eyes. She continued walking, closing the distance between them until she was just inches away.

"Did you know about Seb’s plans?" Amara asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Are you two working together?" Amara felt the tears prickling her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I’m your sister," she choked out, her voice breaking. "Did you not care that he could have seriously hurt me?" 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

She doesn’t care. She hasn’t cared for years. The thought was a crushing weight in Amara’s chest.

Amira’s fingers lingered in Amara’s hair, not a gesture of affection, but of possession. She finally withdrew her hand, clasping it behind her back as she paced slowly in a small circle around her twin.

"Well," Amira began, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness, "what I have is yours, and what you have is mine. Right? As you said, we are identical twins."

Amara watched her, every nerve ending screaming. This is not my sister. This is a stranger wearing my face.

"For the record," Amira continued, pausing to examine her own manicured nails, "I didn’t know what Seb was planning. And he loves you, you know. He won’t hurt you. I just happened to see him grab you, and..." She shrugged nonchalantly. "...I did nothing."

I did nothing. The words echoed in the vast foyer.

She watched. She watched him kidnap me, and she did nothing. The realization hit Amara like a physical blow, stealing the air from her lungs.

"And I just hate that you have everything," Amira hissed, the sweetness vanishing, replaced by a raw, naked venom. She stopped pacing and stepped directly into Amara’s personal space, her eyes blazing. "Why must you be the legitimate one while I’m the illegitimate one, when we share the same face? I don’t get it!"

Amara recoiled, her back hitting the cold marble wall. The world seemed to tilt. Legitimate? The word felt wrong, like a jarring note in a symphony.

"What do you mean?" Amara asked, her voice barely a whisper. If we’re twins... if we’re identical... how can one of us be illegitimate and the other not? A terrifying thought blossomed in her mind, Could we be adopted?

"Tell me what you mean, Amira!" Amara yelled, the fear breaking through her shock, her voice echoing off the high ceiling.

Amira didn’t flinch. Instead, a slow, cruel smirk spread across her lips. She pulled her phone from her pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and held it up to Amara’s face.

"You know her, don’t you?" Amira asked.

Amara looked at the screen. It was a photograph of a woman. The resemblance was striking, the same eyes, the same nose, the same curve of the jaw. But as she looked closer, she realized it wasn’t her mother, Arabella. It was close, but wrong. The woman in the photo had a quiet, subdued air to her, nothing like the vibrant, commanding presence of the mother Amara knew.

Wait... is that not... mother? Amara thought, her mind struggling to make sense of the image. The features were too familiar, yet the soul behind them was completely different.

Just as Amara was about to ask who the woman was, to demand an explanation for the madness of this conversation, the heavy front door to the mansion groaned open.