Antony frowns. “You know it’s not that easy. I’ve sworn loyalty to Brutus and can’t back out, and you—”
I give up on the bottle and hand it to him. “I know who I am. We’ll find a way. A lot can happen in five years. As Daddy would say, alea iacta est – let the die be cast.”
Antony sighs, but he pops the cork and fills two glasses. “So be it.”
I sip my lukewarm Champagne and try to stomp down the terrifying sensation of the coffin walls closing in on me. As cages went, this one was pretty magnificent. Five years. Five years of waiting and hiding and hoping. If that’s all it takes for a chance at getting out of the hell my legacy has gifted me, then I’m all in.
Just call me Mackenzie Malloy, the Ice Queen of Emerald Beach.
1
Eli
“That’s not Howard and Ainsley Malloy in these photographs. You’re not Mackenzie Malloy. Who the fuck are you?”
Not-Mackenzie freezes, her lips pressing together in a pout that might have been utterly irresistible if she was actually the person she says she is. But she’s not. All these weeks, she let me live with the hope of finding her again. But it was all a lie, a confidence trick.
Killer.
Liar.
I don’t know which one is worse.
Pain arcs across my chest. I’m splitting in two – my ears ringing, my insides tearing apart.
She’s even worse than my father.
Not-Mackenzie’s shoulders sag. She doesn’t look upset, only resigned. “If I don’t explain, you’re going to the cops, right?”
The Ice Queen returns. That’s all she thinks about – whether I’m spilling the beans on her perfect plan to steal Mackenzie’s life. She doesn’t care about what this will do to Noah. To Gabe.
To me.
Of course she doesn’t. She’s not Mackenzie. That’s the only way she can be this cruel.
“Noah nearly got shot,” I spit at her. My fists clench at my sides. I’m not violent, but I want to punch a hole through Howard Malloy’s dark mahogany desk, to hurl furniture across the room, to destroy something precious to her in the same way she’d done to me. I suppose I have in a way – I exposed her secret. Too bad I’m collateral damage. “Damn right I’m going to the cops, unless you give me a compelling reason not to. Since you’re a murderer who’s committed fraud and theft and possibly a million other things, I don’t see that happening. How is it you look so much like her? Is it plastic surgery or natural-born subterfuge? Did you just happen to open a newspaper one day and see an opportunity to con your way into the Malloy coffers?”
“The latter. Eli, I can explain—”
“Hey God Almighty, did you find Mac?” Gabe pokes his head through the door. “My dear, your bar is woefully understocked. I’m trying to teach your gorilla-friend how to make a half-decent martini, but your vermouth tastes suspiciously like floor polish—”
“She’s not Mackenzie,” I hiss through gritted teeth.
“You going blind, mate?” Gabe’s hand on my shoulder is a bolt of fire. His voice is too loud, his gestures exaggerated. He’s drunk. I register that I’m supposed to be concerned about this, but I can’t make myself care. “Blonde hair, ice-cold eyes, that distinctive and shaggable arse. Of course that’s Mackenzie. You need a stiff drink. Let Dr. Gabriel take care of you, my friend, as soon as I locate the old man’s vermouth…”
Gabriel’s words trail off as he nudges the locket with his boot. He stares at the picture, then at the family portrait in the heavy gilded frame behind the desk, then back at the locket again. His face twists as the recognition sets in. “Mac? What’s going on? Why do you have two strangers in your locket?”
Not-Mackenzie shakes her head, her blonde waves tumbling over her shoulders. The movement nearly undoes me. “I can explain. Just give me—”
I struggle for breath. The ringing in my ears obliterates whatever she says next. I don’t want to be here in this house, surrounded by my memories and the girl who’s grinding them to dust under her spike-heels.
I sense a looming presence behind me. No one looms like Noah Marlowe, especially now he’s bulked up. “What’s going on? I heard raised voices. Eli never raises his voice.”
Not-Mackenzie waves her hand at me. “Help Eli. He looks like he’s going to keel over.”
Noah’s hands go under my shoulders just as my body pitches forward. The locket lurches toward me, those two