THE DE LUCAN DYNASTY

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ai De

r sights of the city blurring into meaningless shapes. It had been three days

always reached out, always found a

ustration-all of it churned together. I told myself I did the right thing, made the best d

decor she'd painstakingly chosen, the soft glow of the lights she loved so much-it was all gon

d the soul out of the place, l

the surface. "I gave her enough money to buy a damn villa,

room. It was in me, too. And that ter

nnoying thoughts. Why the hell am I even thinking about her? Camill

to leave the room, when someth

old

, I walked toward it, my steps hesitant. My fingers trembled slightly as

e, on the di

ng was always so poised, so elegant. But here... it looked different. I frowned, runnin

d as I gritted my teeth, trying to suppress the

a

What the hell was she thinking? I had assumed it would take time-convincing, nego

re it was.

ging at the corner of my lips. It had always been about the money with

y shoulders sagged, and I let out a slow breath. I should be happ

feel like I'd

't even tell me she signed it. The irritation flared aga

y eye-an unk

jaw tight as I brough

harply, expecting

Hospital. How ma

on flickering through me.

ruptly and dialed m

ou?" I demanded the mo

he turned down everything you offere

y voice rose,

it all. You instructed me not

barked, cut

as the words replayed in my head. Turned down everyth

unnoticed. Every step, every move she'd made, I had anticipated and bl

she

y. Without the h

inding. My mind spun with unanswered que

t she tak

it bother

to the spot. The silence in the house was deafening, pressing on m

echo through these walls, calling out to me, always trying to please me. But no

chest told a different story. Why did it feel so wrong? Why d

have an

rowed as the knot of emotions tightened, impossible to untangle. Regret? Guilt? Ang

e and dialing my assistant before abruptly en

ear the bookshelf caught my eye. A photograph,

ly faded, but the faces in it were unmistakable. My parents stood in the center

asn't ju

t in my throat as I stared at him. He looked exactly like me-same sharp fea

dn't be. I didn't remember this photo, and I didn'

te. No name. Just a blank back, as though whoev

tions stormed through my mind. Who is this? Why indoe

uffocating. I couldn't shake the feeling that this

t

from the boy who looked so much like me but wasn't me. Fo