My spine shivers at the memory of pain all over my body.

This war is so much bigger than I thought.

It takes Reina three days to move out of Alexander’s house.

Three fucking days.

She had to have a sappy goodbye with that fucker Jason, who’s starting to get on my nerves.

If I watch him put his arm around her one more time, I’m breaking it and killing any chance of him going pro. Every time he watches a game on TV, he’ll think about me and wish he’d never laid a hand on what’s mine.

Reina had a small farewell gathering with Elizabeth and the staff then made sure Alexander was good with her move and that he stationed her new security at her apartment.

The old Reina would’ve never minded people surrounding her. She’d have made her decisions in a heartbeat and the world could suffer.

Well, it turns out she’s Rai or what-the-fuck-ever. I should’ve known Alexander had all this information. I just never thought he and Gareth could’ve hidden an identity switch this way.

Does her name matter? Does it change anything?

No, and fucking no.

I was never interested in Reina prior to her disappearance. The one I got entangled within all the wrong ways was the girl who returned with Gareth that day.

The girl who watched her surroundings every time she moved as if suspecting someone was chasing her. Turns out, she really had people chasing her all along.

I didn’t know how to feel as I listened to her conversation with Alexander a few days ago. She suffered in her childhood and was a kid on the run with no one but her mother—and even that support was taken away.

It’s sort of like Ari and me after Mom died.

No. I won’t think about Ari.

That’s the thought I’ve been pushing away since I found Reina unconscious in that cottage and after she nearly jumped off the balcony.

She almost fucking jumped.

My muscles tighten at the memory as if I can see her in front of me, shaking, eyes welling with tears and her leg threatening to give up on her.

Just like Ari.

I briefly close my eyes as I push the building’s door open. The concierge nods in my direction. He knows better than to question me. After all, Alexander owns the whole damn thing.

True to his word, the man who calls himself my father got her security. They’re stationed outside the building, and one of them is at the far end in the corner, near the concierge’s desk. Even the latter has some security training and would react fast in case of danger.

I press the button for the penthouse’s floor and enter the code. As the doors close, I lean back, placing both hands in my pockets and letting my mind roam around the endless fucking possibilities that arose out of nowhere.

Reina will never be safe unless her sister is. Even if her sister is dead, there’s no telling if Ivan will come after her. He’d want to eliminate the last descendent of Nikolai Sokolov’s bloodline.

So far, only Reina remains.

And Rai.

She lived amongst them for years, so I’m hoping she has a trick or two up her sleeve like her mother did.

True, there’s always that tiny possibility the twins switched back when they reunited that night. With the memory loss, Rai could’ve thought she was back to being Reina.

That possibility barely exists for me.

I recognize Reina no matter who or what she is. Her personality deviated a little—a lot—after the memory loss, but there are those few tells.

The way she shuts out the world by crossing her arms over her chest. The way she leads the cheerleading squad like she was born for it. How she dances, how she jumps, and how the corner of her mouth twitches when she smiles.

All those little details are enough evidence she’s still the same. It’s only that she’s more spontaneous now, more maddening.

Sometimes, I have no fucking clue how to deal with her.

The door hisses open straight into her living room, and I push off the wall to step inside.

The lights are on, but there’s no sign of her. I ignore the kitchen and go to her room. Reina would never cook even if you paid her for it. She says she doesn’t know how to cook, but I’m starting to think maybe it’s because she only knew Russian dishes before and didn’t want to expose that detail about herself.

Soon, I’ll get her to open up to me like she did on that balcony.

Like she always wanted to when we were pre-teens.

The sound of running water in the shower greets me as soon as I step into her room. Her clothes and purse lie on the chair in complete disorder.

I shake my head. Another thing about Reina? She can’t get organized to save her life.

My cock twitches at the thought of joining her, making her jump in surprise, feasting on her blushing face, and then sinking into her warmth.

I can fuck her against the wall or on the floor.

That has to wait, though.

She defied me, and that won’t go unnoticed. I sit on the edge of the bed, the same bed on which I had her for dinner—three times—before I exhausted the fuck out of her.

My cock strains against my jeans in remembrance. Since I started eating her pussy, I’m a fucking addict going through withdrawal.

The sound of the running water cuts off and soon after, she strolls inside. Reina doesn’t notice me as she readjusts the tiny towel around her. It barely covers the swell of her tits and the curve of her ass.

Her wet hair falls on either side of her shoulders, dripping down her neck and the deep line between her tits.

My cock bulges in my pants as I watch her every movement. It takes all my self-restraint not to grab her, throw her on the ground, and fuck her like an animal.

The only reason I’m stopping is because she needs to pay first.

A small voice in the back of my head tells me I shouldn’t be doing this. This isn’t my plan. This isn’t how Ari will rest in peace.

But I kill that voice like I always have since this new version of Reina woke up in the hospital, since she sucked my finger like she meant it, like she actually fucking wanted it.

A gasp falls from her lips as her gaze lands on mine. Those ocean-deep eyes, those eyes that could drown people with a look.

When I was a teenager, I yearned to own those eyes, to trap them somewhere and have them only look at me. Years later, nothing has changed, only now, I’m more forthcoming about my methods.

“W-what are you doing here?” She freezes and looks down at herself before her cheeks turn crimson.

Fuck me and the way she blushes. No one can fake that, not even Reina’s level of conniving manipulation.

I raise an eyebrow. “Did you think I’d ask you to move out if I didn’t plan to join?”

“Well, I thought you’d tell me first.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as if she’s self-aware.

That’s what I like about this new version of her—she’s more real, human.

Breakable.

This Reina isn’t scared of showing her emotions, unlike the old one who did everything to smother them—even if it meant hurting herself and everyone around her to achieve it.

Her world was a constant battle of being a robot, being reactionless and blank. Maybe that’s why she’s now having these moments where she just breaks, letting the outside world crack her armor.

This Reina doesn’t remember why she needed to hide her emotions, and as a result, she’s more genuine.