Page 134 of The Wrecked One

After he picked his jaw up off the floor, she showed him a photo of Adelina.

“You’re not serious.” His brow tightened and all the color drained from his face as he shoved the iPad back in her hand.

“What is it?” She set the device aside, wide eyes pointed on him. “What’s wrong?”

Mason took two steps back, tearing his fingers through his hair. “I know her,” he rasped. “Like know her, know her.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

And then it clicked, and it was me blurting this time, “You’re not serious.”

Mason’s gaze whipped to me before he peered at Mya. “We, uh, dated before. I mean, I never really dated anyone, but you know what I, um . . .” He cleared his throat as if he could kill the awkwardness with it.

Nope, not happening, man. Because you slept with Mya’s sister? Twin sister. Not identical, but still. My brain and stomach hurt on his behalf.

Mya remained quiet, just staring at him slack-jawed. “You know my sister.”

Her words inspired my skin to break out in goose bumps from head to damn toe.

“Mya, your sister has been looking for you for a long time. I had no clue it was you, of course. I mean, she said your name. Spelled differently, but how would I know . . . just thought it was fucking weird.” He rotated his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “I didn’t make it a habit of introducing you to the women I . . .” He coughed into a closed fist, then rushed out the holy-shit news. “She works for the FBI in New York, in their kidnapping unit. She hunts the kind of assholes who took her sister. I mean, you.”

Here I thought we were done with any more jarring plot twists.

“She told me the police report said a man at the park overheard the woman who took her sister speak English. American accent. It’s all she had to go on, and why she moved to the U.S. and became a citizen.”

I could tell Mya was shaken up and about to go down. That her knees were buckling. Lightheadedness taking over. The stubborn will to push through to the positive was on pause.

Hooking my arm around her back, I held on to her so she didn’t fall.

Mason scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “If I had just introduced you two, then maybe you’d have realized you’re sisters. Hell, I don’t know. This is wild.”

“She was so close to me. Living in New York. Hunting people like I was doing with you, just kidnappers instead of serial human traffickers.” Puzzle piece after puzzle piece had to be snapping into place as she spoke. “And dating you, I mean, my God, we really are . . . alike.” From the corner of my eye, I saw her tears start to fall. “What do I do?”

I guided her around to face me, doing my best not to let my own emotions get the best of me so I could be there for her how she needed me to be. “I’m thinking it’s time you let her know she no longer has to keep looking for you.”

53

MYA

FLORENCE, ITALY – THREE DAYS LATER

“Mya Cattaneo.” I’d stumbled over the proper way to say my last name, so I gave it another shot as we hit a bump in the dirt road, knocking me into Oliver sitting next to me. “Sounds so strange.”

“After thirty years, hearing a different last name paired with yours will do that.” Oliver squeezed my hand, resting our clasped palms on top of my long, flowy linen skirt.

I must’ve changed a hundred times trying to decide what to wear to meet my family, finally settling on an off-the-shoulder khaki-colored top paired with a matching long skirt.

My parents and sister had no idea I’d be at the small police station in Fiesole, a hilltop town with great views of the city of Florence. They’d been summoned to the station with an update on the “cold case” of their missing daughter, and they’d requested Adelina be present as well for the news.

I didn’t want my parents and sister preparing themselves for the worst, assuming police had found the remains of a child presumed to be their daughter, so I’d asked them to come across positive without giving too much away. I wanted the story and truth to come straight from me. It didn’t feel right having it shared via a third party before our reunion.

So, there I was heading to the station after only learning the truth a few days earlier myself. Easton and Teddy were in the SUV with us as our security escorts, with Teddy behind the wheel, and there were two additional armed vehicles boxing us in as protection.

Oliver leaned closer and whispered in my ear, “Everything will be okay. They’ll love you.”

I still couldn’t believe this was happening. Or that Mason had “hung out” with my twin sister in his late twenties. And here I thought he’d usually only “dated” models in between when we’d been doing the whole friends-with-benefits thing. My sister is an FBI agent in New York. Holy shit.

“You two good back there?” Easton turned in his seat to look at us.

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