No One Owns Me

Chapter 9 — The Truth About Us

The cottage suddenly shrinks, walls pressing in like they know too many secrets are about to break free. Outside, dark shapes idle at the end of the lane—silent, waiting. Inside, Isabella hasn’t let go of my hand since she pulled me across the threshold; her fingers are still cold, still trembling, and I don’t think either of us knows how to be apart anymore.

Duncan glides to the window, then pulls the curtain fully closed, blocking out the sight of the black cars. “Keep away from the glass. They’ll be watching.”

Ward moves fast, checking the back door, then the kitchen, then every shadowed corner of the hallway. “Two exits. Front and rear. No other way out.”

I lean against the wall, watching him. “You always this thorough?”

“Paranoid,” he corrects. “Always.”

“Good.”

He blinks. “Good?”

“I’ve spent my whole life wishing someone would worry enough to be careful.” I nod at him. “I like it.”

A faint, quiet smile tugs at his mouth. “Best compliment I’ve had all year.”

Isabella watches the exchange, her head tilting like she’s piecing together a puzzle. “You trust him. A lot.”

I glance at Ward, then back at her. “Yeah. I do.”

“But you’ve only known him a few weeks.”

“Trust isn’t about how long you’ve known someone.” I think of all the lies, all the people who pretended to care while hiding the truth. “It’s about who shows up when everything falls apart. He’s always showed up.”

Ward shifts his weight, looking away—but I catch the way his shoulders relax, just a little.

Duncan clears his throat gently. “As much as I appreciate that—we need to hear what you know, Isabella.”

She sits on the edge of the sofa, and I sink down beside her. For a moment we just sit there, shoulder to shoulder, two strangers who share the same face, the same blood, the same broken beginning. I study her properly now: the thin scar above her left eyebrow, the way she worries her bottom lip when she’s thinking—exactly what I do. She catches me staring.

“What?”

“You look like me.”

She gives a sad, wobbly smile. “So do you. It’s weird, isn’t it? Like looking at a version of myself I never got to meet.”

We both laugh—soft, shaky, a little bewildered. Then her smile fades completely.

“There’s something you need to know. About why we were separated. Why you grew up thinking you were alone.”

My stomach twists tight. “Okay.”

“Our mother didn’t give me away.” Her voice is steady, but her grip on my hand tightens. “She never abandoned me. She was trying to save both of us.”

I glance at Duncan; his eyes are closed, like he already knows what’s coming.

“The night we were born,” Isabella continues, “men came to the hospital. They weren’t doctors. They weren’t police. They worked for the Crown.”

The name sends a cold shiver down my spine. “What did they want?”

“An heir.” She meets my eyes. “From the three families—De Vito, Moretti, Grant. The bloodline that binds them all. They said only one of us carried the right claim. And they chose me.”

Silence swallows the room. I stare at her. “But… everyone protected me. Everyone hid me. Why?”

“Because Mum swapped us.” The words hang heavy between us. “She gave them you. Or—who they thought was me. And she got me out.”

My head spins. “So I was the decoy. All along?”

“She didn’t want to. She had no choice. If they’d taken both of us… they’d have killed you to make sure there was only one claimant left.” Isabella swallows hard. “She handed me to a woman named Evelyn. Someone she trusted more than anyone else.”

“Evelyn?” Duncan’s voice is sharp, disbelieving. “Evelyn who worked for the Crown?”

“Mum knew she was loyal first to her. Evelyn got me out of the hospital that same night. But she couldn’t keep me. She gave me to a couple living three counties away—people who didn’t know anything about any of it. I grew up normal. Quiet. Until I turned thirteen.”

“What happened then?”

“I found a box hidden under the floorboards. Letters. Photographs. Of you. Of me. Of Mum.” Her eyes glisten. “I learned your name. I learned we were twins. I tried to find you. I wrote letters. I tracked old addresses. But before I could get close… they found me.”

“The Crown?”

She nods. “They’d been watching Evelyn. Waiting for me to wake up. I had to run. I moved every few months. Changed names. Kept my head down. I thought… I thought if I stayed hidden, they’d forget about you.”

I look toward the window, at the dark shapes still lingering at the end of the lane. “They never forgot. They never stopped looking for either of us.”

“Casey—” Her voice cracks. “They won’t stop. Not ever. Not until one of us is gone.”

I squeeze her hand until our knuckles turn white. “Then they’ll have to get through both of us first. I’m not letting you go again. Not for anything.”

Tears spill over. She leans in, and I wrap my arms around her, holding her as tight as I can, like I can shield her from every shadow that’s chased us both for seventeen years. Across the room, Duncan turns away, scrubbing a hand over his face, and I see his shoulders shake. Ward gives us space, stepping quietly out the back door.

A little later, I find him leaning against the porch rail, staring out at the overgrown garden. The air smells like damp earth and wild roses.

“You okay?” I ask.

He turns, and his usual easy smile is softer than I’ve ever seen it. “Fine. Just giving you two some room.”

“Liar.” I nudge his shoulder with mine. “You’re feeling it too. All of it.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Fair. You handled that in there really well, you know.”

“I almost fell apart.”

“Falling apart isn’t weakness. It means you care enough to hurt.” He looks out at the dark trees. “You’ve spent so long fighting everything—fighting lies, fighting people trying to control you, fighting to stay alive. You don’t always have to be the one holding the wall up.”

“That’s all I know how to do,” I say quietly.

“Then maybe it’s time you learned something new.” He turns to me, his gaze steady and sincere. “How to let people stay.”

My throat tightens. “People leave. They always leave.”

“Not all of us.”

“You mean you?”

“Me. Duncan. Drake. The whole crew.” He shrugs, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “We’re not going anywhere unless you tell us to.”

“What if I mess it up?”

“Then we fix it together.”

“What if you change your mind?”

“I won’t.” He says it like it’s a fact, not a promise. “You’ve already done the hardest part. You found your sister. You found your dad. You don’t have to carry the rest alone.”

I look back through the kitchen window. Isabella is sitting close to Duncan, pointing at one of the old photographs, and he’s smiling—really smiling—for the first time since I found out who he is. My family. Real, messy, broken, mine.

“Thank you,” I say to Ward.

He nods. “Anytime.”

Then the front door slams open hard.

We both spin. One of the Kings bursts inside, breathless, his face pale.

“Drake—there are more of them. Coming from both sides. Dozens of cars.”

Duncan is already on his feet, gun drawn. “We’re surrounded.”

I grab the knife from my boot. Ward steps between me and the door, but I shake my head.

“Together,” I say.

He meets my eyes, then nods, shifting so we stand side by side. “Together.”

I look over at Isabella. She doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t hide. She steps straight to my other side, her chin lifted, her hand finding mine again.

The first gunshot cracks through the air, shattering the quiet. Somewhere down the lane, car doors slam open.

I don’t know what happens next. But I know this: I’m not running alone anymore.

I have my sister. I have my father. I have people who will stand with me.

And we’re not going down without a fight.