Page 15 of Twin Deception

She’d spotted me. She was on to me. Yet, she didn’t run.

With a turn behind a taller man dancing, she vanished.

Fuck!

I was slipping. I was getting too distracted, so turned on and fantasizing about her, for fuck’s sake, that she knew I had been tailing her.

I pushed a woman grinding against me aside, needing a clear path ahead. Dancers swarmed too close, crowding me back from where Isabel had headed.

Her coral dress was lit up further into the throngs of people in front of me.

There!

Annoyed that I’d been sloppy in stalking her, I ignored my regret that she’d gotten to me and weakened my focus.

I plowed past people, chasing after the woman I couldn’t—under any circumstances and for more than one reason—lose.

6

ISABEL

Imade eye contact with the tall man further back in the chaos of the club.

The instant I locked down on him, watching me with those serious brown eyes, almost glaring as if I’d been wreckinghislife, I knew it was him. He had to be the cause of that funkiness I couldn’t shake. He had to be the guy who was following me. Stalking me.

Damn it.

It was definitely him. Tons of people were crowding in here, drinking, laughing, and dancing. An atmosphere of high spirits and the freedom to party weighed over the clubbing crowd. Men were checking out potential hookups. Women were dancing and shooting others sly looks to beckon them to join in on the fun. And vice versa. The mob of twentysomethings mixed with thirtysomethings and beyond. Tourists and locals. Singles and couples. This club was hopping and all kinds of looks were shared.

I wasn’t so full of myself as to assume too many were noticingme, specifically. With the hope of blending in and not standing out at all, I didn’t warrant any extra stares or ogling looks. I wasn’t wearing anything designer. I wasn’t going out of my way to reveal all the possible skin I could without being caught for public indecency.

But that man was most definitely looking atme.

Hurrying away, I held in my panic and tried to cram my way further into the crowd. Music blared too loudly, shaking from the floor up and juddering through each footstep I took. Dancing strangers stood as gyrating obstacles to weave around, but I had to look back once more. Just to check.

There he was, still after me. His stern gaze didn’t reach me, since I was tucked behind a tall man, but he was still there, intent on reaching his prey.

All doubt faded. There was no question in my mind. He was, most definitely, hunting me down.

Fucking hell.

I’d hoped. I’d wondered. In my hotel room, I paced all afternoon and into the evening until I broke down and had room service bring me a late dinner. Leaving my room didn’t seem like a great idea when I was analyzing and debating my dilemma. Figuring outifI had a dilemma was the first step. I had to decide whether my problem was imagined or real.

Very real. That man is definitely, absolutely following me.

I questioned myself all afternoon and night because it just seemed so unlikely. I had cut ties with my father when I was sixteen. Seven long years ago, I emancipated myself from him.The day the judge ruled in my favor for me to officially go no-contact was the day I saidno moreto being Louis Flores’s daughter.

Adios. So long. Farewell.

I’d kissed my life with him goodbye and never looked back. Making my life my own as an artist and struggling to stay in place long enough to really make any friends, I'd turned the page and chosen a new chapter in my future. And in those seven years, I didn’t hear a peep from him.

I never looked him up. I didn’t want to know what kind of mayhem he was starting.

I never reached out. I didn’t want to worsen the ire and frustration that came with his crappy parenting and lack of care about me.

Seven years had passed, and it was as though I’d succeeded in erasing the fact that I was once related to him.

Of course, I couldn’t wipe out my genetic connection to him. He had contributed to my existence. Like my mother told the staff at Bayshore Residences, I was a product of my father.

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