They are calling my show dark and twisted, a new mind and a gritty imagination. I quite like the sound of that, to be honest.
The cab drops me off in front of the building, and I head in fashionably late.
I know Richardson will be pissed, but it’s just another way to show him he’s not the boss of me. Fucking his daughter being the main way of showing him that.
As soon as I walk in, I’m shocked by a crowd that has gathered, and when they lay eyes on me, a round of applause breaks out. They whoop, too, and I give a flash of perfect teeth as I walk to the center of the room.
I refuse to take the microphone someone offers me, instead heading straight for the bar.
Marissa and Richardson are next to me in moments as I order myself a double Scotch on the rocks.
“Great turnout,” Richardson says proudly as he claps me on the back.
“So proud of you, Adam,” Marissa gushes at the same time and I refuse to look at either of them, already feeling annoyed. I ignore them both and leave them to chatter to each other as I walk around the displayed paintings.
There’s a ‘sold’ sign to more of them than I thought there would be, and I can’t help the pride swelling deep inside me. I’ll be sorry to see the paintings go. They’re a special part of me, a lighter side of the fucked up reality.
Just as I turn around from a pretty innocent canvas, I hear a whisper going through the room, and my eyes land on a couple just coming inside the gallery.
She’s wearing nude heels that accentuate her legs and some kind of skin tight dress that makes my cock bulge in his pants. He’s looking uncomfortable in a tux, but the truth is undeniable.
They’re an attractive couple, perfect for each other.
And his face is a mirror image of mine.
It’s Blane and Emme, I realize with shock.
I haven’t seen either of them since a year ago when I met Richardson. I’ve been thinking about them most of the time, and my plan is still in motion, but seeing them in person, I can feel my blood boiling in my veins.
“Fuck,” I curse under my breath, gripping my glass tightly as I watch them moving through the room, smiling and making comments this way and that. What the hell are they doing here?
Richardson approaches them like some puppy, following them around the room, and even Marissa tails behind. It’s like my two worlds are finally crashing together.
And seeing Marissa next to Emme, I finally realize I can’t compare them. Emme’s beauty outshines Marissa’s attractiveness by a mile and I am immediately annoyed by the fact I can’t have the real thing.
I realize I’m staring a minute too late, because the face I see every day in the mirror turns towards me, and I’m face to face with my twin brother.
His mouth gaps open at the sight of me and I raise my glass in the air with a smirk, toasting him.
Before I can do anything, he comes over in three long strides, until we’re finally face to face. After two years and three months, here is my twin, Blane. And I have to fight every urge in my body so I don’t rip his throat out.
“Brother,” I say with a smirk and he looks at me with pure confusion.
But there’s more there. He’s anxious, scared. He’s homesick, I can tell. He wants to talk.
I pity him for his weakness.
“Aiden,” he says, his voice shaking with shock.
“It’s Adam now,” I say calmly. For once, I’m happy I changed my name. I’m sure Blane and Emme wouldn’t be here had they known whose exhibition it was. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
“You’re all the rage,” Blane admits and a small smile crosses his lips. “I always believed in your art, Ai-Adam. You know that.”
I smirk, not bothering to say a thing, and instead feeling sorry for the spineless prick he is.
I fucked his girl. I fucked him over. I ruined their lives, and I’m nowhere near done yet. Yet here he is, smiling at me like I’m a motherfucking prize at a festival.
He steps around awkwardly and finally clears his throat. I can tell he’s about to start saying some emotional crap, but instead, I decide to cut him off immediately.
“So, back to work,” I say with a bored voice. I can see I’ve cut him deep to the bone, the disappointment clear on his face.
“Sure,” he says roughly. “I hope …”
I don’t let him finish. I leave my boyfriend alone as I walk away from him.
I make sure to make my path cross with Emme’s, knowing it will drive him insane and make her uncomfortable. She hasn’t spotted me so far, but I make sure to bump into her when I pass by.
I take a whiff of her silky skin when I’m next to her, and there it is again, her unmistakable scent. She wobbles on her heels and steadies herself on me.
“So sorry about that!” she gushes, even though I’m the one who tripped her. Then, her eyes finally meet mine.
The moment when her expression full of apologies turns into fear is the moment I live for. I can almost hear her quickened heartbeat, smell the beads of sweat forming on her skin.
“No,” she breathes softly when she sees me, and I reply with a self-satisfied smirk.
She’s still terrified. Just the way I like her.