The person he had always been protecting, adjusting for, worrying about—it had never been me.
It had been her.
Her head angled to the side, eyes narrowing with sharp, deliberate interest—as though she were dissecting my face piece by piece, searching for something she already suspected.
“I’ve wanted to mention this since the first time we crossed paths,” she said slowly, a lazy smirk curling her lips. “Has anyone ever told you how alike we look, little sister?”
The words struck like a gunshot.
My breath hitched, and before I could stop myself, my gaze slid to the mirrored wall beside us. The reflection was merciless. Dark hair. Similar eyes. Even the slope of her jaw echoed mine. At a glance, the resemblance was undeniable.
Shame surged hot and fast, tangled with fury. I had always known where I stood in Rocco’s life—never the chosen woman, only the one who filled the space temporarily. But this… this realization was something else entirely. I hadn’t just been a substitute. I’d been molded. Polished. Shaped to resemble the woman he truly wanted.
The understanding cut deeper than any insult ever could.
Under her satisfied stare, my composure finally cracked. The restraint I’d spent years perfecting shattered, replaced by a restless, bitter energy that crawled under my skin. I couldn’t stay there another second. Swallowing hard, I turned abruptly and walked away before she could say another word.
Back in the private dining room, the noise and warmth slowly thawed the chill gripping my veins. My colleagues’ laughter, their easy conversations, the way they treated me like nothing had changed—it grounded me. For a moment, I almost managed to forget her words.
Almost.
The door flew open with a violent slam.
Conversation died instantly.
Rocco stood at the entrance, his gaze sweeping the room until it landed on me. He froze for a heartbeat, something dark and volatile flickering across his face. Then his hands clenched, and he barked my name, sharp and commanding, ordering me out into the hallway.
Unease crawled up my spine, but I followed.
The corridor was dim and cold, the air tight with tension. I barely had time to register the shift before pain exploded across my cheek.
The sound echoed.
It was the first time he had ever laid a hand on me.