Chapter 1
1159words
But these twins are the first who dared to target my bed.
Using their identical good looks, they pretended to be the same person dating me, conspiring to swindle my money and gain leverage in their family.
They thought their little performance was flawless.
In all their cleverness, they never realized I saw through their scheme the moment the younger brother first showed up as a replacement.
A woman who controls all the dirty money in New York would be six feet under if she lacked such basic insight.
Yet I didn't expose them.
After all, their young, vibrant bodies, pretty faces, and that raw ambition to climb higher... all quite entertaining.
Paying for one, getting double the service.
One cold and restrained, one burning with passion.
This deal? Worth every penny.
Damn worth it!
...
The first time I met the younger brother was in a casino.
The casino blazed with light, the air thick with the decadent mixture of money and expensive perfume.
I nursed my drink, my gaze lazily sweeping the room before settling on the man walking toward me.
Vince—my current boyfriend.
But this man was Vince's twin brother, Luke.
He wore the same bespoke suit as Vince, his face a perfectly practiced mask of indifference.
Light cut across his profile, creating sharp shadows and highlights.
His walk matched that bastard Vince's rhythm perfectly—languid and nonchalant.
But those eyes... those couldn't be hidden.
Clear, nervous, with a hint of unease.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, baby."
He leaned against the doorframe, the curve of his lips practiced a hundred times over, desperately trying to mimic Vince's bad-boy charm.
His slender fingers unbuttoned his suit jacket in slow motion, his collarbone just visible beneath the open collar.
"Did you miss me?" He walked toward me trailing the scent of tobacco, lifting my chin with his fingertip.
The callus on his fingertip brushed my skin, but just as he was about to deepen the touch, he paused. Then, as if scalded, he stiffly traced the line of my neck down to the small of my back, his hand resting there lightly.
His touch was feather-light.
I nearly laughed out loud.
Far more interesting than Vince's boring, clichéd moves.
"Your collar."
I raised my hand suddenly, hooking my fingertip on his slightly folded collar to fix it.
His entire body froze, breath catching.
I felt the hand at my waist instantly tighten.
One more glance showed his ears had turned bright red.
"So innocent?" I deliberately lowered my voice and blew softly into his ear.
He shuddered.
"What's wrong? Can't handle my touch?"
I moved closer, my breath sweeping across his sensitive, reddened skin, my lips nearly touching the curve of his ear.
"Baby, are you sweating?"
His Adam's apple bobbed as he kept his mouth shut tight, unable to speak a word.
Can't keep the act up anymore, can you, little one?
My fingers around his collar tightened, pulling him an inch closer, forcing him to lower his head and look directly into my eyes.
"Cat got your tongue?"
I smiled, my fingertip sliding from his collar to his Adam's apple, pressing gently.
His breathing suddenly went ragged, rapid and erratic.
I raised my eyebrows mischievously as the casino noise swelled around us. Then, feigning nonchalance, I released my hand. "Let's go play. The betting's already started over there."
The next day, sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting dappled shadows across my desk.
Vince pushed open the door and entered, standing before my desk, hesitating.
"Last night..." he began, with a hint of inquiry in his voice.
I looked up, blinking in feigned confusion, and pushed a document toward him.
"What are you talking about? Weren't you having a good time at the casino yesterday?"
My gaze fell on the crisp collar of his shirt where, at the edge, a subtle hint of red was faintly visible.
Well, well. That must be the handiwork of Vince's little lover.
Vince was indeed still meeting his side piece in secret.
Another reason the brothers teamed up to deceive me—Vince needed time to appease his little sweetheart.
I withdrew my gaze, fingertips tapping lightly on the table with a crisp sound.
"Did everything go smoothly today?"
Vince responded coldly: "Smoothly."
I let out a soft laugh, leaning back in my chair, arms crossed over my chest.
"Is that so? Seems like someone was quite... enthusiastic about you."
His expression changed instantly. He instinctively reached up to flip his collar upright, covering that telling mark.
"Just grazed by a bullet," he explained stiffly, eyes wary.
He feared I might discover his little sweetheart and do something to her.
Evening
When I returned home, the entrance light flickered on automatically.
Luke came to find me.
My gaze fell on his neck, where a square medical gauze was attached, perfectly covering the hickey that had been beneath Vince's collar earlier that day.
Well, well. Vince was out fooling around with his lover, leaving evidence behind, yet it's his brother cleaning up his mess.
Coming up with such a lame excuse as being "injured" to cover a hickey must have been quite the mental gymnastics.
He stood there silently, staring at me intently, his whole demeanor screaming "notice me, praise me."
"Got hurt?" I kicked off my heels and walked toward him barefoot across the cold floor, step by step.
"Mm." His Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to make his voice sound as deep and cool as Vince's.
I stopped before him.
He stood a head taller, forcing me to look up. From this angle, I could clearly see his tense jawline and that conspicuous bandage.
"Is that so?" I reached out, my cool fingertips lightly touching the edge of the bandage.
"Try not to hurt yourself again."
My voice was soft, my breath brushing against his ear.
His body suddenly stiffened, lips quivering like a startled cat, stammering: "I, I didn't..."
Before he could finish, I cut him off.
I had no interest in his fabricated story.
I cupped his face in my hands and, catching him off guard, kissed him.
He probably expected a kiss on his forehead or cheek—he even turned his face slightly to accommodate.
But he never expected I'd go for his lips.
A gentle kiss, with a hint of punishment.
His lips were cold, his body stiff as a board. He even forgot to breathe.
I stepped back slightly, watching his face turn instantly red, ears burning, and chuckled softly.
"Breathe, Vince."
I deliberately called him by his brother's name.
Those three words flipped a switch.
The next second, he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me toward him, crashing down with a burning, passionate kiss.
No longer feigning inexperience, but with reckless intensity, he forced my lips apart and invaded.
Now this was getting interesting.
