Falling For The Wrong Twin

Barbara

Maverick

Gia was stubborn.

She was the type of woman who would rather bleed dry on the floor than admit that she wanted me just as badly as this sick, depraved mind of mine was hyperfixated on having her.

She was like a drug that I desperately needed in my system.

That resistance back there, I’d expected it, prepared for it. And every calculated move was meant to rope her back in.

I had dealt with egotistical clients in the boardroom, enjoyed flipping the chessboard on them, and watching their confidence crumble. But an egotistical woman like Gia? It was new to me.

Now I wanted nothing more than to watch her crack, break, as that burning fire dimmed from her eyes—the moment she reached a point where saying no to me was a torture she didn't want to put her body through.

A dark thrill thrashed violently in my veins, and that intoxicating and lingering taste of her swirled in my mouth. And paired with an aged Macallan. Chef kiss.

I wanted Gia.

I had always wanted her.

She used to seem so far, lost, out of reach—like trying to catch the wind in my fist.

Now that she was trapped in this deal, it wouldn't end until she became mine.

'Mine'

The word looped in my head.

Maverick Delwanosky's woman.

I caught a glimpse of Gia, as she buttoned her shirt all the way to her neck. She whirled around, frowning, and as her eyes found mine, she didn't hesitate to flick both middle fingers at me before storming out of the house.

Satisfaction curled deep in my stomach, my eyes following her through the floor-to-ceiling windows until she descended the small steps and disappeared from view.

I reached for the Whisky, about to fill my glass with it when a shadow moved right in front of me.

Mitch.

He set down a glass, pushed it towards me as

my eyes slowly moved up to his. "Are you lost?"

"Lost?" He adjusted his glasses. "You don't mind pouring your twin a drink?"

I took a slow, deliberate sip, my eyes trained on him over the rim. He bore a striking resemblance to Mum. It was uncanny.

I slowly filled his glass, jaw clenched. "What do you want?"

"I should be the one asking that question," he took it, raising it to his mouth. "What do you want, Maverick? What games are you playing with Gia?"

A small chuckle left my mouth, the lines of his throat working as he downed the Macallan in a single gulp. His eyes reddened from the burn.

I clicked my tongue in my mouth. How did he grow to become this pathetic?

"That's what happens when you take more than what you can handle. Toying with two hearts and now that she's out of your reach, you are spiralling because you’ve realized that you never had her wrapped as you thought,”

I refilled his glass, enjoying the way his face slowly darkened with anger. "What are you talking about?"

"Drink" I nudged towards his glass. "Slower this time,"

"I'm saying you should be happy for Gia. For us. For the fact that you'll be promoted from best friend to brother-in-law,"

His eyes flared with rage,as his jaw flexed, the muscle at the corner twitching.

"You are not good for Gia, Maverick. Not at all. I won't sit back and watch her walk straight into a ditch,"

A low hum vibrated through my chest.

"Explain what good means,”

Mitch leaned in, his eyes piercing mine. “You’re a bad influence on Gia. If she could hide something this big from me, it only proves the kind of influence you have over her. And I’m scared of what she’ll become if she isn’t saved from you.”

I remained calm, wearing the very smile that seemed to infuriate him even more. “Or you’re scared you’ll completely lose her to your worst nightmare—me.”

“You don't bother me, Maverick!”

“I do. That’s exactly why you’re standing there, gritting your teeth”

The tension in his face relaxed. “Stay away from, Gia”

“Or what?”

“I’m warning you, Maverick, stay away from Gia,”

Mitch turned, and before he could take another step, I called after him. “Mitch.” He halted, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “Gia would really want you there that day, as my best man. Please don’t disappoint her,”

His face twisted. “f**k off!”

I leaned against the counter, a smile on my face as I scrolled through Gia’s bikini photos. She was just too beautiful and hot to tear my gaze away from. I couldn't even decide which photo deserved the honor of becoming my phone’s wallpaper.

The rich scent of caramel and cardamom drifted into my nose.

“That Whisky was for your dad,” Barbara’s voice was quiet as she moved around the kitchen, opening the cabinet and retrieving a plate.

I ignored her, fixing my gaze back on Gia’s picture.

Silence stretched between us as I heard the soft scrape of a knife against the cake before she carefully dropped a slice into the plate.

“Maverick,” she started. “Gia…is she the reason you wouldn't kiss me?”

I let out a frustrated growl, gaze snapping to hers. “Barbara, please can you act like I'm not here right now and do your own thing?”

Her fingers trembled, the knife clattering to the plate as she dragged in a shaky breath, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Why are you being mean to me? Did you see the texts I sent this morning?”

“I saw the threats. Ignored them,”

A tear tracked down her face. “Maverick, this isn't what I had planned. You are supposed to fight for me! For whatever f****d up thing we had. It might mean nothing to you but it did mean a lot to me. You should be begging me to cancel the wedding with your dad…not bringing another woman and introducing her as your girlfriend!” Her voice was rising.

“Fight for what? What do we have” I pocketed my phone, fixing her with a stern gaze. “Are you okay?”

I knew the answer to that question. She wasn't. She has never been okay.

Barbara and I reconnected three years ago at a yacht party. She used to be a model before she decided to pursue a career in finance.

We had s*x that night.

It was supposed to be casual. A one-night thing. She said it was casual too until she pulled a three-sixty on me and demanded a relationship from me. To make her my girlfriend.

I rejected her advances.

I thought it would have ended there but with Barbara no!

She started showing up unannounced outside my apartment, flooding my phone with endless texts until it became so excessive that I had no choice but to involve the police. I almost filed a restraining order against her.

Apparently, reporting her had triggered her so much that she wasn't willing to let it slide. And Barbara’s twisted idea of revenge? Marrying my father and becoming my stepmother.

So, here she was as Dad’s fiancée.