Amara didn’t hesitate. She took a third step, then a fourth, her pace quickening. She wasn’t running out of fear; she was walking out of pure, cold indifference. She didn’t care if he lived or died anymore, she just wanted her life back.
"Amara, stop!" Seb’s voice finally cracked as she reached the fifth step. "Don’t you have even a drop of pity left for ?"
"I used up all my pity for you seven years ago, Seb," she said without turning around.
Seb’s hand trembled as he reached for the fifth glass. There were only two left. The odds were now 50/50. His heart hamred against his ribs. He had expected her to break, to cry, to beg him to stop. Instead, he was staring at the back of a woman who was already gone in her mind.
He raised the glass to his lips, his eyes watering. He was about to drink when the heavy glass doors of the terrace were suddenly blown inward.
"Amara!" The roar was accompanied by the sound of boots on marble. Julian burst onto the terrace, his tactical gear covered in sea salt, his rifle aid directly at Seb’s head. His n sward the balcony, disarming the villa’s guards in seconds.
Amara froze, her heart leaping into her throat as she saw Julian.
"Amara, get behind ," Julian commanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
Seb laughed, a jagged, broken sound. He held the fifth glass higher. "You’re too late, Julian! We’re playing a ga. If she takes one more step, I drink. If I die, she’s free. If I live, she stays! That was the deal!"
Julian didn’t look at the glasses. He looked at the man who had dared to touch what was his.
"The ga is over, Seb," Julian said, his finger tightening on the trigger.
The tension on the terrace snapped as Seb tilted his head back and drained the glass. For a second, ti seed to stand still. Then, the glass slipped from his fingers, shattering against the stone.
Seb’s knees buckled. His face went pale, a thin trail of dark blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"Amara..." he gasped, his voice a faint rattle. "You are free now, my love. I love you... always. In my next life, I promise... I will treat you better. I’ll be the man you deserve."
He collapsed into a heap at her feet.
Despite everything, the kidnapping, the manipulation, the lie, his betrayal, drugging and wanting to erase her mory Amara flinched. Seeing the man who had been her entire world for a decade dying on the floor triggered a primal instinct.
"Help him! Please do sothing!" She cried out, her voice cracking.
Julian’s dical team, who had stord the villa with him, rushed forward. They worked with clinical speed, pumping his stomach and injecting him with an ergency antitoxin. They moved with the efficiency of soldiers, and soon, the lead dic looked up.
"He’s stable, sir. But he’s unconscious. The poison was potent; he’ll be out for a long ti."
Julian stepped over the unconscious Seb, his eyes searching for Amara’s face with a desperation that matched her own. He reached out, his hands shaking slightly as he cupped her face.
"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Julian’s voice was thick with emotion. "I’m so sorry I’m late. I thought I’d lost you."
He looked at her intensely, a flash of fear in his eyes. He had seen her cry out for the doctors to save Seb. He had seen the way she looked at her ex-husband’s fallen body. He was terrified that the Stockholm Syndro or the old ten-year bond had pulled her back to Seb’s side.
"Amara..." Julian whispered, his thumb brushing a tear from her cheek. "Tell you’re still with . Tell you still want to go ho."
Amara looked from Julian’s warm, protective eyes to the broken man being carried away on a stretcher. She realized that while she didn’t want Seb to die, she also didn’t want to be his anything not his wife or lover or friend ever again. The pity she felt wasn’t love, it was the final closing of a book.
"Take ho, Julian," she said, her voice regaining its iron strength. "We have a snake in my house that needs to be dealt with."
Julian’s expression hardened. The relief was visible, followed by a cold, calculating fury. "Amira. I haven’t forgotten what she did."
As they boarded the helicopter, leaving the cursed island behind, Julian handed Amara a tablet. On the screen was a live feed of the Pedro mansion. Amira was currently in the master bedroom, trying on Amara’s most expensive jewelry, unaware that her reign of terror was about to end.
Amara stood tall, though her body was still weak from the island. She looked at her sister, the sa eyes, the sa hair, but a soul that was unrecognizable.
"Julian, et my twin sister, Amira," Amara said, her voice trembling with suppressed hurt. "We were separated at fifteen. She wanted to study abroad... but really, she just wanted to get away from . Because she wanted Seb, too."
Amara turned back to her twin. "I thought you said you wanted to leave the country for good? Why are you here, Amira? Why my house? Why my life?"
"Oh, we’ve already t," Julian said, stepping up behind Amara, his hand resting firmly on her shoulder to let Amira know exactly whose side he was on.
"I don’t get it," Amara whispered. "You are just as much a Pedro as I am. Mom and Dad loved you. Why do you have to pretend to be ? Why do you want to destroy my life?"
Amira didn’t look guilty. She lounged back against a marble pillar, a wicked smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, look who’s back and lecturing , as always. As you said, this is my ho too. But the world only knows one ’Amara Pedro.’ Since we share a face, there can only be one of us at the top."
She stepped closer, her eyes glittering with malice. "Besides, we shared a womb, didn’t we? It’s no big deal. We can share n, too. I don’t mind sharing my flings with you... can you share yours?" She glanced at Julian with a hungry, provocative look.
"You’re sick," Amara snapped. "You need help. If you’re staying here, I’m not."
"What happened to the sweet, understanding Amara?" Amira laughed, the sound sharp and grating.
"She died," Amara said, her eyes cold. "You all killed her."
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