Page 73 of Sadistic

"Did too. Face it, Rev. You're falling for your stalker."

"Arranged husband," I correct.

"Tomato, to-mah-to." She stretches out on the couch, putting her feet in my lap. "So what happens to this place after the wedding?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, are you moving in with him? Am I supposed to find a new roommate? Get my own place?"

There's vulnerability in her voice now. "I know you'll be married, but... we've never lived apart. Not really. Even when we went to different schools, we were still in the same city."

"We’ll figure something out," I say firmly. "You're my twin sister, and twins don’t separate, ever."

"Rev, I can't be the third wheel in your marriage?—"

"You're not a third wheel. You're my sister." I squeeze her ankle. "Doran knows we're a package deal. I already told him—where I go, you go. He agreed."

"He did?"

"Without hesitating for a split second. Even said something about upgrading security for the building." I roll my eyes. "Apparently our current setup isn't sufficient."

"Wait, is that why the pizza guy was weird? Is Doran having us watched?"

"Probably." The thought should bother me more than it does. "He's kind of intense about the protection thing."

"Kind of? Rev, the man put bulletproof glass in your car."

"Which might actually come in handy if Njal really has lost it."

Dalla sobers at that. "You really think he's dangerous?"

"I think he's desperate. And desperate people do stupid things." I think about those final texts, the pain in them. "I just hope someone finds him before he does something that can't be undone."

"Me too." She's quiet for a moment. "You know what's weird? Part of me feels bad for him. Like, I know he's being a possessive ass, but he really did love you."

"In his way."

"Yeah, but his way wasn't healthy. Even before all this." She sits up, facing me fully. "Remember last year when you couldn't go to that law conference because he pitched a fit about you being gone for a weekend? Or when he showed up drunk at that study group because that one guy in class who flirted with you too much was there?"

"I remember."

"I'm just saying... maybe this is for the best. Even without Doran, I don't think you and Njal would have lasted."

She's right. I know she's right. But it still hurts to think about what we could have been if we'd both been different people.

"This is so fucked up. A week ago, our biggest problem was passing finals. Now you're getting married to the Bratva, I'm considering switching careers, and your ex is missing and possibly manic."

"When you put it like that..."

"Right? Our lives are a soap opera." She grabs the wine bottle, refilling both our glasses. "At least the sex is good."

"Dalla!"

"What? I'm trying to find silver linings here." She raises her glass. "To my sister, who's apparently going to be a mafia wife with great orgasms."

"I hate you."

"You love me." She clinks her glass against mine. "And I love you. Which is why I need you to know—I'll be there. Every step of this insane journey. Maid of honor?"