Damian Point of Views
The room spun.
He was me but not me.
Same jawline. Same storm-gray eyes. But where I had fire, he had ice. Controlled. Calculated.
“Adrian,” I said slowly, the name foreign in my mouth.
He smirked. “So you do remember.”
“I’ve never seen you in my life.”
“Of course not,” Adrian said. “That was part of the plan.”
Ava stepped back. “What plan?”
Rachel folded her arms. “Your father had two heirs. But only one was meant to inherit the Cross empire. The other was insurance.”
“You were the spare,” Adrian added.
My pulse raced. "No. "That is not possible."
Adrian shrugged. "Then how do you explain this?" He removed a worn photo from his coat—two baby boys. Matching eyes. Matching smiles. Matching birthdates.
My fingers trembled as I accepted
