Page 109 of The Twins

“Carey’s on set,” I tell her, scrolling through the girl’s Instagram on my desktop.

Grey inquires, “On a Sunday?”

“Apparently.” Jumping to Twitter, I add, “She’s tweeting about a performance in New York City next week where she’ll see her dad again. She seems fine on social media.”

“She told me that her accounts are controlled by her PR,” Grey says, sighing in disappointment. “And the tracker?”

“The tracker shows her at the studio,” I inform her.

“How long does Big Daddy take? At this rate, we could’ve murdered the man already and moved on with our lives,” Vegas yawns. He stretches his arms and legs. He rolls his head, bones cracking left and right.

“I thought we weren’t doing that anymore,” Grey mumbles, and I turn to look at her.

“We’re not,” Charles assures her. “I haven’t killed anyone in years. I swear. I’m office-bound now.”

“What a pussy,” Vegas taunts Charles.

“And you’re the dick that needs Viagra,” Charles bites back.

“You both need to stop with the sexist language,” I tell them.

“Last time I checked, we were born in the eighties. We understand humor, dipshit,” Vegas sneers at me, and I roll my eyes at him.

“Times have changed. You might be offending Grey if you use the word pussy the way you do,” I say. My eyes drift over to Grey, whose eyes are shut. I hear light snores, and I relax. She needs her rest.

“What is that?” Charles points at my screen, and I shift to see it.

It’s an emblem, swaying around on my screen. It’s K in capital letters, enclosed by red roses and butterflies. I’ve never seen this emblem before, and it shouldn’t be on my screen. I’m impenetrable, for fuck’s sake.

Apparently, I’m not.

I lean back from my desktop, rocking slightly in my chair.

“Remo?” Vegas approaches the desk, his concerned voice a numbing afterthought in my current terror.

“I’ve been hacked.”

Silence befalls the basement, and I let my failure sink in.

“It took me a day to come through, but here I am.”

Fuck.

Grey yelps at the sound that comes from my computer, waking up from her short nap. Charles takes out his gun, pointing it at the screen. I can’t blame him for being old-fashioned. Vegas is… Amused? He tilts his head to the side, his eyebrows raised.

I’m the only one freaking out.

“I come in peace,” the voice from my laptop sounds again.

“Who the fuck are you?” I ask. My stomach pains and it comes out in my shaky voice. This is my worst nightmare. After years of winning, staying ahead… I’ve succumbed to another man, a superior one who breaks my system in one day.

Charles glances at me. He doesn’t say a word, but his promise is clear.

I’ve got you. Don’t fucking worry.

“Fylox Castro,” he introduces himself. “I believe two members of your family met my wife. I’m calling in from the Katantian palace.”

“I’d hardly say this is calling in, but go on,” Vegas chimes in.

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