Page 8 of The Final Contract
For half a second, his lips twitch into the faintest smirk as Aurora dives for cover. Almost human. Almost soft. But then he looks up at me, and just like that, the smile is gone. As if I’d only imagined it. His eyes harden, his attention sinking back to his phone.
Stasia leans back in her chair, lifting her teacup with a pointed look. “So,” she says, far too casual. “Care to explain why my darling sister was splashed across the Friday papers?”
My stomach dips.
She pulls her phone from her pocket, scrolling until she finds the headline. She turns it toward me, and there it is, bold across the screen:The Jewel of the Phantom Is Carried Off After Fainting at Gala.
Stasia arches a brow. “Did you really faint?”
I hesitate, toying with the edge of my nail polish like the answer might be written there. “No.”
Her eyes narrow. “Then what really happened?”
I look away, pretending to sip my tea, but she’s not buying it.
“My twintuition is screaming at me,” she says flatly. “So I’ll just go ahead and guess. The stalker?”
The word hits harder than I want to admit. I’ve never hidden anything from my twin. It would be impossible to try. She’s always known everything going on in my life, always supported me—even when she wants to scream at me and shake me by my shoulders.
I don’t answer right away. I can’t. But after a moment, I nod. Just once.
Stasia exhales slowly, her gaze shifting toward her children, her expression softening as Aurora edges back out from behind the porch post, still wary of her brother.
“I hate that this is your life,” she says, her voice low but fierce, like it’s meant for me alone.
My throat tightens. Because she doesn’t mean the job—never has. Stasia was the one who held my hand when I finally told our parents what I really did for a living, the one who patched the fallout as best she could. Needless to say, Mom and Dad weren’t exactly thrilled to learn their darling daughter was a professional escort. But over time, they learned to pretend—to smile like they believe I’m still a nurse working alongside my sister.
Ignorance is bliss.
But not for Stasia. She’s never wanted the façade. She’s always been my partner in crime, the one who asks about my clients, the yachts, the cities I pass through like postcards. She doesn’t hate what I do—she hates the shadow that follows me, the stalker who turned the fantasy into something sharp and ugly.
And maybe, deep down, she hates that I didn’t stay in the life we started together—two sisters in scrubs, fresh out of nursing school, pulling shifts at the same hospital. She chose a steady future with Daniel. I chose freedom and the Ledger.
“I thought he was gone,” she murmurs.
I toy with the rim of my teacup. “He just … backed off. A little.”
Her breath hitches, a long drag through her nose as she watches Aurora giggle again, safe in the sunlight. Oliver crouches low, plotting his next ambush, as if worms could solve everything.
Then her gaze slides past me. To him.
“Does this have anything to do with the giant iron mountain currently sitting under my porch?” she asks.
I can’t help it. A laugh slips out, soft and unsteady. “Stas?—”
“Uh-huh.” Her tone is pure triumph, her mouth twitching into a knowing grin. “That’s about what I thought.”
I wave her off quickly, heat crawling up my neck. “He’s just my bodyguard. From the … other incident.”
Her brow arches. “Sera, you’ve had so many life-threatening events lately I’m losing track. Which one was this again?”
I groan, sinking deeper into my chair, but she doesn’t let me off the hook.
Her eyes sharpen, voice dropping into that tone she only uses when she’s about to give me the truth I don’t want to hear.
“So, tell me,” she says, leaning closer, “when are you going to think about moving on? About getting out of the Ledger? Maybe going back to nursing? Or something else?”
The words hang there, heavier than the tea between us.
