Chapter 3 - Shadows of the Past
The office seemed to spin off its axis.
Selene stood up so abruptly her chair screeched against the hardwood floor. “That’s insane! That’s—that’s a mistake! I’ve never even met you before three weeks ago! I got this job through an agency in the Loop after Mrs. Thornbury posted an ad for an estate archivist!”
Stellan didn't move. He stood frozen, the phone still clutched in his hand, his gray eyes locked onto Selene with an expression of such profound shock that he looked entirely stripped of his terrifying aura.
“Sterling,” Stellan said, his voice terrifyingly calm. “Are you certain?”
“I’m looking at the sequencing right now, Stellan,” the doctor confirmed. “The chromosomal markers, the rare genetic predisposition for cardiovascular resilience—it’s an exact match to your profile. Unless someone tampered with the reference samples, that little girl is your biological daughter.”
Stellan slowly lowered the phone onto its cradle.
The silence that followed was heavy enough to crush bone.
Selene backed away toward the office door, clutching Fern tightly against her chest. Her mind raced through a horrifying labyrinth of logic, memory, and deception. Four years ago. The diner in Rogers Park. The man who called himself Evan Hart. He had the same dark hair, the same sharp jawline, the same haunting gray eyes as the man standing across from her now.
They weren't just brothers.
They were identical twins.
“He lied to me,” Selene whispered, tears of absolute betrayal spilling over her eyelashes. “The man I lived with... he wasn't Evan. Or... or he was Evan, but he pretended to be you, or... Oh, my God.”
Stellan moved forward, his steps slow and deliberate, his hands held up defensively. “Selene, stop. Don’t move.”
“Stay away from us!” Selene cried out, her maternal instincts flaring into fierce, protective rage. “You people—your family—what kind of sick game is this?! Your brother steals my life, pretends to be someone else, leaves me a single mother, and then I accidentally stumble into your mansion? Is this some kind of sick syndicate trap? Are you going to kill us to keep your family secrets quiet?”
Stellan stopped dead in his tracks. The accusation hit him like a physical blow.
“Look at me,” Stellan said, his voice thick with an emotion Selene couldn’t quite identify. He pointed to the jagged white scar slicing down his left cheek. “Did the man you knew as Evan have this?”
Selene blinked through her tears, staring at his face. She shook her head. “No. His face was clear. But... but you two look so much alike. If you were twins...”
“We were identical twins,” Stellan corrected quietly, his eyes dark with old pain. “At least, we were until we were seventeen. That scar was carved into my face during a turf war in the warehouse district while Evan stood by and watched. He ran away that night. He took everything he could steal from our father’s safe, assumed a new identity, and vanished into the city.”
Stellan stepped closer, his voice dropping into a desperate plea.
“He didn't just lie to you, Selene. He lied to everyone. He used you to hide from the life he was running away from. But Fern... Fern didn't choose any of this.”
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Selene looked down at her baby girl. Fern had drifted back into a deep, peaceful sleep, her tiny fingers still curled safely into the lapel of Stellan’s black suit jacket where she had grabbed it earlier.
The bitter irony of the universe crashed down around Selene. She had spent three weeks tiptoeing around this terrifying man, terrified of losing her job, only to discover that the man whose blood ran through her daughter’s veins was none other than the most dangerous syndicate boss in Chicago.
