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  “This has to be a joke, right, Alex?”
    My voice wavered as I spoke, but Alexander didn’t look at me. Instead, he lowered his gaze to the documents in front of him, flipping a page with calculated indifference before signing. Then, standing, he walked around the desk and handed the signed document to the man claiming to be my father.
    Alex didn’t even glance in my direction as he returned to his seat.
    “I don’t understand. What is going on here?” My chest tightened, but I forced my voice to stay firm.
    “I’m your father,” the man repeated.
    I shifted my gaze to the woman beside him. My stomach twisted.
    “So that’s the bitch who tried to kill my mother. And I’m guessing she’s your wife?” My words dripped with venom.
    At that, the man smiled a knowing, almost amused expression. “No,” he corrected smoothly. “This is my sister, Felicia.”
    Felicia. The woman’s crimson nails glinted under the soft light as she smiled at me like I was some long-lost treasure.
    Where was his wife? The thought crept into my mind before I could stop it. And why the hell were they here?
    “What are you doing here?” My tone sharpened.
    Maybe that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, because his smile faltered slightly. “I know I haven’t been in your life,” he admitted. “I only found out about you recently from Alex, your husband.”
    He turned toward Alex, who still refused to meet my eyes. Oh, he better look away. He better look away.
    So this was his plan all along?
    Unbelievable.
    I let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Look, I don’t care who you are, and I don’t care what you want. I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m not your child. I am my mother’s daughter.”
    I took a step back, my pulse hammering. “My mom told me everything about you. And you don’t just get to show up now and expect me to welcome you with open arms.”
    “I understand,” he said, his tone cautious. “But there’s so much we need to talk about.”
    I shook my head. “I don’t have to talk about anything with you. Your wife—” I cut myself off, exhaling bitterly. “Your wife tried to kill my mom.”
    “Isla—” He reached for me.
    “Don’t touch me!”
    I stormed out, my breath ragged. Footsteps followed, but before they could reach me, another presence intervened.
    Alex.
    Of course, it was him.
    “Isla.” He grabbed my arm, his grip firm but not forceful.
    I spun on him, yanking free. “So this was your plan all along? This wasn’t a contract marriage, was it?” My chest rose and fell rapidly. “You married me just to hand me over to my father?”
    His jaw clenched. “Isla, look, you don’t understand—”
    “I don’t understand?” My voice cracked as my rage boiled over. “I am confused, Alex! Mom just told me about this man. I just found out I had siblings. Maybe one of them is already dead maybe because of you.”
    His expression darkened. “So you really think I killed Beatrice?”
    “Yes!” I shouted. “Who else?”
    For the first time, he looked at me really looked at me. “Beatrice isn’t dead.”
    My breath hitched. “What?”
    “She’s alive.”
    My stomach dropped. “Then why did you bring me here to replace her?”
    His hands curled into fists. “I never meant to—” He let out a sharp breath. “I needed you.”
    He exhaled, like saying it out loud was a burden.
    “I was married to Beatrice, yes. I brought you here to play her role. But she isn’t dead. At least… not that I know of.”
    His voice was raw now, stripped of its usual arrogance. He turned and walked into the kitchen. I followed, my mind spinning. He ran the faucet and plunged his hands under the water. For the first time, I noticed the bruises along his knuckles. A faint pinkish hue swirled down the drain.
    “What happened to her, Alex?” My voice was quieter now, edged with something I couldn’t place.
    His back stiffened. “She ran away, okay?” He shut off the faucet abruptly. “She was pregnant when she left me. She ran away with my child after suffering several miscarriages.”
    I inhaled sharply.
    “Drew and his mother were here that night,” he continued, voice hollow. “When I found her letter. She said she couldn’t cope with me. That I was suffocating her.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “I loved her. I really did. But when she left, my father… he thought it was because of my… my ways. My ‘infidelity.’ He threatened to cut me off from the will if I didn’t get her back.”
    His fingers curled into the edge of the counter.
    “I couldn’t get her back.”
    Silence stretched between us.
    “That was why I needed you.”
    My heart pounded against my ribs.
    “I needed you because you looked just like her. After my father died, the only way I could secure my inheritance was by bringing back Beatrice—or at least making the world believe she had returned. If I married someone else, it wouldn’t work. It had to be you so i had to lie that you lost your memory.”
    His hand disappeared into his pocket, retrieving a silver flask. He unscrewed the cap and tipped it to his lips, swallowing deep before lowering it with a slow exhale.
    For the first time since I’d met him, Alexander looked… haggard. The shadows under his eyes were deeper, the arrogance in his posture slightly slumped.
    “Why didn’t you use the other one?” My voice was quieter now, but it carried weight. “My other sister. I believe we’re triplets.”
    Alex’s grip on the counter tightened, highlighting his bruised knuckles. He tipped the flask of alcohol to his lips again, swallowing hard.
    “The other one doesn’t look like Beatrice.” His voice was hoarse, almost reluctant. “No, she doesn’t.”
    His weary gaze flickered to me then. “You and Beatrice look exactly the same.”
    That hit me differently. It was one thing to suspect it, but hearing him confirm it sent a chill down my spine.
    “That was why you wanted to send me to Dubai, wasn’t it?”
    He inhaled sharply, exhaling through his nose before nodding. “Yes.”
    I clenched my fists. “That’s why you were so desperate to get rid of me. You never wanted me here. You just needed me to be a pawn in your scheme, and when I became a liability, you tried to push me out of sight.”
    He hesitated before speaking again. “You weren’t supposed to see what you saw.”
    “Nadia killing herself,” I whispered.
    A heavy silence stretched between us.
    Alex dragged a hand down his face, looking suddenly exhausted. “That was something you were never supposed to witness. It was… unexpected.”
    I stared at him, my heartbeat thrumming in my ears. “Unexpected?”
    He set the flask down with a soft clink and finally turned to face me completely. “I owe you at least this much. I told your father everything. That you’re with me. That your mother is with me. He wanted to see you.”
    I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Huh. I see.”
    Alex didn’t respond. He just looked at me, but it wasn’t me he was seeing. It was her. Beatrice.
    The ghost of the woman I’d been playing this entire time.
    I swallowed hard, pushing down the unease curling in my gut. “Who killed Nadia?”
    That was the question that had haunted me since the moment I saw her lifeless body.
    His eyes darkened. He didn’t hesitate.
    “She didn’t kill herself.”
    The breath left my lungs. “Then who did?”
    A long pause. And then—
    “It was Beatrice.”
    I didn’t want to see anyone.
    Not my so-called father. Not Alex. No one. Well….. nit exactly.
    This whole thing was suffocating, pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake off. I needed space. I needed air. I needed to see faces that weren’t tied to this mess.
    So, I locked myself in my room and refused to come out until they were gone.
    And somehow, they did leave.
    I don’t know how Alex managed it, but when I finally stepped outside my door, the estate was empty. No sign of my father. No sign of his sister. Even Alex was gone.
    Not that I believed they were really gone.
    They were probably holed up in a hotel somewhere, waiting for the next move. Because that’s what people like them did. Wait, Watch and Scheme.
    I sank onto my bed, my thoughts circling back to the one person who lingered in my mind.
    Beatrice.
    She came to this house to kill someone.
    But how? Why? Was it even true? Or was it just an assumption? Were they blaming her because she wasn’t here to defend herself?
    I wanted to see her.
    I needed to see her.
    What would happen if I did? How would I react? Would she even care that I existed?
    And if she really killed someone… what does that say about me?
    That night, my phone rang. Candice.
    I picked up. “Hello, babes.”
    “Hi, Mrs Blackwood! Are you up?” Her voice was barely audible over the noise in the background. A bar. Of course.
    “Not exactly.”
    “Oh, come on! I want us to hang out!” She was definitely tipsy. “Jake… the guy who asked me out the other day—”
    I groaned. “Oh no, you’ve finally remembered Jake.”
    “Yeah, yeah, whatever. He’s been asking about you a lot.” She lowered her voice like she was about to share a scandalous secret. “And since I know your marriage with Alexander is just a contract… it’s not that bad if I hook you up with him, right?”
    I sighed. “Candice, I really don’t think I want that right now.”
    “Why?” she teased. “Are you suddenly in love with Mr. Alex?”
    “No, babes. Not like that.”
    “Then what is it?”
    I hesitated, my stomach twisting. “I’ll call you back, okay? There’s… a lot going on.”
    “Fine, fine. But you owe me!”
    The call ended, and I let out a slow breath.
    After a long shower, I found myself standing outside Alex’s door.
    I knew this was my chance.
    I knocked.
    Once.
    Twice.
    Three times.
    No answer.
    I was about to turn away when the door finally creaked open.
    Alex stood there, shirtless.
    My throat went dry.
    He was dressed in only jeans as his upper body was naked to my greedy eyes.
    He looked… exhausted. Like he had just gotten back from handling the mess with my father. His usual cool demeanor was stripped away, leaving something raw and worn beneath it.
    “I need to talk to you.”
    “Go ahead,” he said.
    “Inside, please.”
    He exhaled, then stepped aside, allowing me in.
    The room was familiar now, but tonight, it felt different. More intimate.
    I sat on his bed, crossing my legs as he angled away from me, reaching for something in his wardrobe.
    “I need to know what’s in this for me.”
    He stilled. “What’s in it for you?”
    “Yes.”
    His shoulders tensed slightly. “Nothing. You’ll go with your father. Your mother. You’ll live happily. You’ll be protected. Safe.”
    “That’s it?”
    “That’s it.”
    I stared at his back, my fingers curling against the sheets. “And what happens when Beatrice comes back?”
    His jaw tightened. “She’s not mentally stable.”
    “So what? You’ll take her back?”
    “No. She needs to be in a psychiatric hospital.”
    I let out a slow, stunned breath. “Wow.”
    “Exactly.” He let out a humorless chuckle, finally turning to face me.
    “So, I have a sister… who’s not normal.”
    His lips twitched. “You could say that.”
    For a moment, silence stretched between us.
    Then he casually leaned against the dresser, watching me. 
    I blinked. “Do you know that you sleepwalk?”.
    “What?.” His voice was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes… something he wasn’t saying.
    I swallowed. “You sleepwalk.”
    I don’t know what prompted me to say it, but before I could stop myself, the words slipped out.
    “Did you know you kissed me while sleepwalking?”
    Alex froze.
    His fingers, which had been idly running along his abs, stilled. His gaze darkened, pinning me in place.
    Then… before I could react he reached for me… his hand shot out, gripping my waist bringing me on my feet.
    Heat flooded my skin.
    “I did, didn’t I?” His voice was low, husky.
    “Yes.”
    His fingers trailed up my side, brushing against my jawline, his breath fanning against my skin.
    “Would you want me to do that again?”
    My heart pounded. “Alex—”
    “Do you want me to do that again, Isla?”
    I didn’t know what came over me. I didn’t know what I was thinking.
    “Yes.”
    His mouth was on my throat before I could process what was happening. Slow, deliberate kisses trailed down my skin, sending a shiver through me.
    Warmth pooled in my stomach, my breath hitching as his lips left wet spots in their wake.
    Then he lifted his head.
    Our foreheads touched.
    And in the next moment, his lips crashed into mine.