Page 85 of Protected By the Sinner

“I never thought you were normal to begin with.” It’s the plain truth. He’s my best friend—loyal, honorable—but also totally capable of killing the men we hunt[11] without losing a single minute of sleep over it.

“Is there any chance you have a twin sister?”

My whole body tenses. Talking about my childhood isn’t something I do. It’s all shitty memories of foster homes, the second-to-last one being the one that made me who I am today. Because no matter how much falling in love and marrying Lilly changed me, there’s still a dark side in me always ready to surface.

“You know I have no clue about my past. Never had a way to find out. Whoever left me at the orphanage door didn’t want to be found.”

“I know, but I still want you to take a look at something.” He nods toward an envelope on the table.

I pick it up and pull out a photograph—and it’s like looking in a mirror.

The woman in the photo is my female counterpart.

Same hair color, same skin tone, and those same strange, yellow-tinted eyes.

I sit down and study the photo more carefully. Sure, there are doppelgängers out there, but this? This is something else.

“Why a twin and not just a sister?”

He shrugs. “We don’t know your exact birthdate, right? We could be off by a few months either way. But to me, she looks like she’s your age.”

“How’d you find her?”

“By retracing the investigator’s steps. She’s American but currently living in Italy. But that’s not what caught my attention. Aside from the fact that she hired someone to look into you, her past is a mystery. Just like yours.”

“No one’s untraceable.”

He gestures for me to calm down. “I was getting to that. I will find out everything about her, no matter how well she thinks she covered her tracks. But I’ll need a few days. I figured you might want to keep this,” he adds, pointing to a slip of paper on the table. “Just in case you want to contact her.”

I pick it up.

Elodie Martin.

A sister? No way. If that were the case, why would she wait until now?

“What are you going to do?” he asks.

“I don’t know yet. I need to think.”

That night

Lilly looks at me, clearly holding back from asking something. One thing that hasn’t changed over the years is that my wife still has no filter between her brain and her mouth. She doesn’t beat around the bush.

“What’s wrong?”

“You tell me, Amos. You’re totally out of it. You didn’t even complain when Bruno[12] let the soaking wet dog climb onto your favorite armchair.”

I shrug. “He loves that mutt, so I don’t mind.”

She huffs and stands up. “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

“Lillyana.”

“Don’t start with that macho-alpha ‘Lillyana’ voice. We have a deal: you’re in charge in bed, but outside of it, we’re a team,” she says, turning her back on me—pissed as hell and sexy as ever.

I go after her because, as usual, she’s right. I catch her in the hallway. “Ethan thinks I might have a twin.”

To my surprise, instead of being shocked, she smiles. “I knew it.” Then she runs off to our bedroom and comes back a few minutes later holding her wallet. “I bumped into a woman at the mall the other day and thought she looked just like you. Now I’m guessing she was following me. She seemed really nervous. But wait . . . Something is off. She looked too young to be your twin.”