When I woke the next morning, Mitch was sitting on the sofa staring at his phone

“Good, you’re up. Daniel called me a few hours ago. Joaquín will be released at eleven.”

I glanced at the clock. It was nine thirty. I would see my brother soon. But I didn’t care about seeing him. All I wanted to do was see my husband. “Any word from Grant?”

“No. Kyle is trying to get access to him. Kyle’s pissed, by the way—I hope he doesn’t throw Grant in the brig. I’m going to head over to the jail to get your brother.” Mitch walked over and knelt in front of me, forcing me to stare at him. “Stay here until I drop Joaquín off. And if he hurts you, make sure you protect yourself. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Okay. I’ll give you a call when I have him. Don’t open the door to this apartment until you hear from me.”

“Okay, okay. I get it. I’ll behave. Thanks, Mitch.” I hugged him, needing to feel safe and protected before I embarked on this journey.

Mitch left and closed the door behind him. I locked it and jumped in the shower, trying to wash yesterday out of my mind. Within an hour, my brother would be free.

I tried to take my mind off of Grant being locked up and what I would do when I saw my brother, but it was useless. There was only so long I could stare at my phone, so I eventually turned on the television.

After twenty minutes, I heard the lock click and all my attention focused on the knob. When the door pushed open, my whole body froze.

“Hey, sis.”

Joaquín stood in front of me, and his mouth widened in a devilish smile. His chest was even more massive than when he’d been a SEAL. He’d developed some new lines on his face and his dark eyelashes shaded his haunting eyes.

A lump grew in my throat. “Oh my God! Joaquín! What are you doing here? Did Mitch give you the key?” I instinctively rubbed my ring on my finger, as if I expected it to shoot a message to Mitch, alerting him that the plan had been altered.

He laughed. “No, I picked the lock.”

Grant’s words echoed in my head. “You know who taught me to pick locks? Your brother.”

I tried to move, say something, do something, but I remained frozen on the sofa.

“Aren’t you going to give me a hug?”

“Of course. I’m so sorry. I’m shocked, that’s all.” I stood and ran into his arms. He lifted me, his strong grasp holding me tight, and I fought the urge to be sick.

I pulled back as soon as I could without looking suspicious, but before I could start talking to him, he grasped my face and pulled me in for a kiss.

But it wasn’t a kiss the way a brother kisses a sister. It was a kiss the way lovers kiss.

My skin crawled.

I pulled away, my jaw dropped, and my eyes bulged.

He didn’t let go of me as he walked me backward into the apartment and kicked the door closed. Then he grabbed my jaw and turned my face back toward him. “Listen to me. I know this will be a little weird for you at first, but you know the truth now. I lied to you in jail—I did know that we weren’t biological siblings.”

“What? How?”

“On my sixteenth birthday, I went to get my license, and when I read my birth certificate there was another man’s name on it. I thought it was a mistake, but Papa told me the truth. It crushed me. I’m Mama’s son and you’re Papa’s daughter. They married when we were young. After I flipped out, they got a fake birth certificate for you so you would never know and they made me promise not to tell you. I fucking hated them for making me think I was crazy. I hated them so much . . .”

He didn’t finish that sentence, but the hair on the back of my neck stood up.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me? It’s been years since they passed away!”

“I couldn’t. It would have crushed you, and I couldn’t stomach the thought of having you look at me the way Papa did. Mia. I’ve always fought it, hated myself for thinking these unnatural thoughts. I knew you didn’t know how I felt about you, how I still feel about you. But I wasn’t sure you felt the same. I tried to be happy and move on when you were with Grant. I thought I had. But what you did for me in jail—now I know you feel it, too. I see the devotion in your eyes. There’s nothing wrong with it. We are meant to be together.”

My gut wrenched in horror. He was my brother. I had never, not a single time, thought about him in that way.

I took a slow step backward, nausea rolling in my stomach as the realization that I was facing my rapist hit me. I wanted to vomit at the thought of him forcing himself on me.

Then as quickly as the sick feeling hit, anger boiled right over it. He had lied to me and raped me—all for some twisted fantasy about me. I loved Joaquín, no doubt, but as a sister. Nothing more. Never, ever. I only saw him as a brother.

Anger consumed me. I was angry at the drunk driver who had killed my parents. Angry at the man who raped me. Angry at whoever stole my son. Angry at whoever killed Tiffany.

And I realized at that moment that one person committed all of these crimes. And that person was my brother.

Utter panic took hold of my body. But a moment of clarity passed through my brain. Grant’s words rang in my head. “Don’t be scared. This is the only way we can find our son. You can do this. I believe in you. You are strong and brilliant. I love you.”

I had to go along with this. Getting this psychopath to believe that I was in love with him was the only way I had a chance to get my son back. If not, he could kill me, or kill my child.

I thought my biggest act had been making sure Ksenya could trick Grant, but I had been wrong. That had been nothing but a dress rehearsal. My greatest performance was now.

And it was showtime.

I turned back to him, my hands rubbing his hair, as I forced the bile back down my throat. I disconnected my mind and pretended Joaquín was Grant.

Acting, I was acting. This was a love scene, a fake kiss, nothing more.

I leaned up to him and kissed him on the lips. “You know I love you too. I did all this for you. I can’t live without you.”

He seized the moment, his hands rubbing down my body and his mouth raped mine. “I’ve dreamed of this, baby.”

Hearing him call me “baby” was like hearing nails on a chalkboard.

“Me, too,” I forced myself to reply.

A grin swept across his face. “I can’t wait to make love to you again.”