Page 55 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

Silence follows my reply; only the wooden clock ticks loudly on the wall. I focus on my breath, not letting the panic overtake me, and wonder how fast all this can end so I can go back home.

Dad was right all along. Chicago is not for me, and I never should have stepped foot in this damned city that has brought me nothing but heartache.

Lachlan’s assumption doesn’t scare me. Once Remi learns he didn’t touch the real Amalia, he will ignore me. I bite my lower lip at the painful pang in my heart.

However, Amalia is set on a path to destroy me, it seems. Her next angrily spat statement makes me drop onto the couch, struggling to breathe. “He has been stalking me for years. A completely obsessed psycho who has barely accepted no as an answer.”

Psycho? What does she mean by that?

She chuckles, although it lacks any humor. “I’ve refused all his advances and gifts. And now, when I’m about to marry the man I love, you screw it all up for me?” The last part she yells as her chest rises and falls.

Remorse sinks into every bone in my body, demanding I soothe her distress, because just the idea of hurting her brings misery to me. “I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say, and by how fury glides over her features, she doesn’t give a damn about my remorse.

In fact, it only fuels her anger more. I’m surprised smoke is not coming out of her ears at this point. “Well, your sorry won’t fix things, will it, Penelope?” She pinches the bridge of her nose and turns to Lachlan, who is still sipping his whiskey with an indifferent expression on his face, making it impossible to gauge his true feelings on the matter. “Let’s send her to Paris on a private plane, and I’ll handle Remi.”

Irrational jealousy washes over me at the idea of her—in all her gorgeousness—being in the same space with him. My insides demand I stop her from doing so, because he is…

What?

The air here must be poisoning my blood; my stupidity can’t even be measured in the current situation.

And what does she mean by handling him, anyway?

According to the firm lawyer, she never met with him or accepted her inheritance, so how does she have money and power to go against the mighty Four Dark Horsemen?

Lachlan must be very wealthy if he managed to keep Remi at bay all this time, and judging by how Amalia shows him respect, he’s important to her.

I blink and then pay closer attention to them, my gaze darting between the two, and a question slips past my lips. “Are you her fiancé?” It would explain his protectiveness and displeasure with all this shit.

Amalia gapes at me as if I’m insane, while Lachlan lifts his splayed palm, flipping it as the ring on his finger—a simple platinum band—glistens under the light. “I’m already married and have a daughter.” By how possessiveness echoes in his answer, he leaves no doubt his obsession with his wife rivals that of Remi’s toward Amalia.

I wonder if beauty is the requirement to have a man want you so much, or is there some other magic quality?

Or just a lack of rational thinking.

Who would willingly marry a psycho? Not that Lachlan gives the impression of one, but any man who kidnaps people for whatever reason cannot be called sane.

Groaning inwardly at my weird mind that likes to think about the most random things during inappropriate times, I say, “Let me talk to him. After I explain, I’m sure he won’t bother you again.” I force out the words that taste like poison on my tongue. “Then I’ll buy a ticket on the first flight, and you won’t ever have to see me again.”

Clenching my dress in my hands, I pray she’ll reject my offer and change her mind about our reunion, letting me know all of this was just a bad dream and we can start over.

Even though it’s selfish, because she probably didn’t have an easy life. Otherwise, she wouldn’t hate me this much.

Amalia’s laughter echoes through the space, and I swallow hard, as the sound alone breaks my heart in tiny pieces, scattering them around the spotless floor for everyone to see. “I always knew you were naïve. But I didn’t expect you to be this stupid.”

My head snaps up at this. Annoyance zips through my body, blanketing the hurt swirling in my being and reminding me I love my twin with everything in me.

But no one gets to mock me or, worse, treat me as a doormat or a punching bag for their anger. “If loving someone and wanting to fix my mistakes means being stupid, then by all means I am. Too bad you have no idea about such things. Maybe then you wouldn’t act like such a bitch toward me.” I cover my mouth in shock at what I just said, and by how Amalia blinks several times, I know I’ve managed to surprise even her.

Before anyone can react to my statement though, a piercing alarm blasts around us, so loud and disturbing I wince and cover my ears, while the siren intensifies with each second.

“Well, it looks like Remi found us,” Lachlan says and gets up, placing the glass on the nearby table. “Stay put,” he orders Amalia and then disappears behind the door, while the alarm makes it almost impossible to focus.

Finally, the alarm stops, and I exhale in relief, but then his words register in my ears, freezing me on the spot. My heart almost stops and then gallops in my chest, and I jump up. “Remi is here.” I dart to the door, wanting to get to him and explain this big misunderstanding.

Amalia catches me by the elbow and pulls back so hard I stumble a little. “You’ve done enough.” We come face-to-face, and I’m horrified to see the cruel glint in her eyes. “Now you’ve left us no choice but to declare war.”

“War,” I repeat in confusion.

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